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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jul, 2020
Submitted to Contest #69
To understand this story, it helps to understand something about my parents. And that is that my parents go big. On everything. I mean, just look at their restaurant. It’s called La Gran Torre de las Pupusas. That translates to The Great Tower of Pupusas. And the pupusas themselves….my God, they’re almost as big as an entire plate. If you don’t know pupusas, they’re generally not much bigger than the circumference of a roll of paper towels. They’re filled with cheese, beans and pork. But my parents’ pupusas...
Submitted to Contest #66
“Come on! Harder!” Mayra Alexandra clapped her punch mitts together and squatted to accommodate her tiny opponent. Alicia lifted a fist enclosed in a boxing glove almost as big as her head and tapped the older girl’s mitt. Mayra Alexandra sighed as only a 13-year-old could and stood up. “It doesn’t count if you’re already planning your defeat,” she told Alicia. “Stand back. Watch me.” The bag shuddered as Mayra Alexandra unleashed a flurry of jabs and crosses on it, long braids whipping around her face, hot pink ...
Submitted to Contest #65
I scribble this statement with a trembling hand. My heart still pounds fiercely, though the horror I am about to relate is but two hours past. I have been taking brandy since I arrived at my home, but my nerves are yet unsettled. To he who holds this account, I implore you to read carefully and beware the great Patowmac River.My story begins on this last night of October, just after the clock in the city square had struck 11. My brother John had paused in his travels from Pennsylvania colony to spend three days with me before returning to hi...
Submitted to Contest #62
Warning warning warning: This story deals with a violent assault/kidnapping/confinement. It’s not graphic, but it is dark and disturbing. Younger readers should skip this one. Let me know if you think I should take it down.Bag over head.Scream.Rough hands.Scream.Cords cut into wrists.Scream.Trunk door slams.Scream.The bag over my head smells like vomit. Something sharp digs into my back. The car is hurtling down a road.I can’t breathe.Still I scream.I’m screaming as the hands drag me out of the trunk. I’m screaming as they sho...
Submitted to Contest #60
Cupcakes.I have to make cupcakes for Jason’s class. Today. Right now. Vanilla, nut-free, white frosting, rainbow sprinkles. Vanilla, nut-free, white frosting, rainbow sprinkles. Vanilla, nut-free, white frosting, rainbow sprinkles.A whooshing sound penetrated my sugar and flour dreams.The fridge? The a/c? Oh God, I hope it’s not the a/c. I hope it’s not broken. I hope….The fog cocooning me between waking and sleep dissolved, leaving me shivering. I was lying on my back. Gusts of wind swept over me and I opened my eyes to see only a...
Submitted to Contest #59
The old man moaned. So low, so feeble came the cry that the others never heard it over the whistling and howling outside the cave.But the boy squatting near the old man had tuned his senses for the slightest breath. He glanced at the mound, unmoving beneath the bear pelts, and drove the stick between his palms into the plank at his feet, spinning it with a speed that made his palms burn. The wolf fur slipped from his shoulders, but he poured all focus into the wisp of smoke curling from the dry grasses tucked into the notch. Within...
When Enrique Otero was five years old, a shriveled old mango seller in Caracas told him about the heat of the Venezuelan savanna."First, the rocks begin to smoke," he said to the little boy, knife flashing through the fruit. "Then your nose begins to burn and you know you've breathed in the hottest part of the sun. It moves through your throat and lungs like a thousand burning needles."Enrique swallowed, not bothering to wipe the mango juice dribbling down his chin."It cooks you from the inside, melting the beards off the men.""Wha...
Submitted to Contest #58
The CEO of a multinational corporation owned not one, not two, but three cell phones. They buzzed, chimed, trilled and blared at all hours of the day and night. She also had two tablets, four laptops, 12 offices and 30,000 employees all over the world.The CEO arrived at the office before dawn each morning and left late at night. In between, she fixed unfixable crises, negotiated unnegotiable deals and ran un-runnable meetings.When she wasn’t fixing crises, negotiating deals and running meetings, she traveled to the corporation’s other o...
Submitted to Contest #57
It’s 9:45 am and Dr. Ingalls’ next client will arrive in 15 minutes. He’s a new client – this is his second session following a first session that went something like this:Dr. I: So tell me, what’s on your mind?Client: I know not how to respond to so general a query.Dr. I: Is there something specific bothering you? What’s brought you to psychotherapy?Client: With the greatest respect, sir, that ‘tis a familiar question from one I have only just met.The interview proceeded as such, leaving Dr. Ingalls with the following notes to review a...
Submitted to Contest #56
Of all the strange things that had happened in Eddie Dent’s life - and death - the incident involving Julia Garcia was perhaps the strangest. The night had started normally enough. The politics reporter had slammed down her phone, cursed and raced out of the office, late for the city council meeting. The sports reporter had filed on the tennis tournament and also raced out, late for the high school football game. The crime reporter had stayed hunched over his keyboard clicking and clacking, occasionally swearing, until midn...
Submitted to Contest #55
On April 27, 2017, an emergency meeting of the Secret Society of Auditory Control came to order. It was a secret meeting that took place in the society’s secret boardroom at the tip top of one of New York City’s 274 skyscrapers. Eleven men and one woman gathered behind a heavy door made of African Blackwood. Only the simple outline of a small gold-plated bell positioned where a door knocker would be gave any indication of the work at hand. All was quiet on one side of that door, but not on the other. The Secret Society of Auditory...
Submitted to Contest #54
When Veritae was just seven years old, her mother placed ten coins in her hand. “Listen to me very carefully, Veri,” she said. “This is all we have. You need to go to Avanta. Do you remember where she is?” Veritae nodded. She had accompanied her mother to the home of the local healer before. A violent spasm of guttural coughing spewed from her mother and Veritae waited, knowing it would take time to pass. “Tell her I need the special medicine. She will know,” her mother gasped. “Do not tell her how much you have. Off...
Submitted to Contest #53
I blame the 12-day heatwave of 2015 for the loss of Beverly Bettencourt. You see, Beverly didn’t have air conditioning. She’d grown up in Savannah and brushed off window units, never mind central air. When the summer days turned thick and heavy, Beverly would turn off her oven, leave another golden pie cooling on the windowsill and dab the sweat off her forehead as she moved onto her front porch. There she would sit, slowly rocking, pitcher of sweet tea and plate of her secret recipe chocolate chip cookies by her side, waiting for t...
Submitted to Contest #52
I should be afraid. I’m afraid of spiders scurrying across the floor. I’m afraid of leaving the oven on in my apartment. I’m afraid of being pushed on stage during Karaoke Night. Certainly I should be afraid of these camouflage-clad Venezuelan soldiers shouting at me. But I’m not afraid. I’m just mad. Well, that’s dumb, you may be thinking. Yeah, you’re right. It is dumb. Everything about this day has been dumb. Dumb that I woke up at 3 am to spend nine hours on a cramped flight (middle seat) to Ca...
Submitted to Contest #51
The Very Old Star and the Very Young Star by Kristin Neubauer A very old star and a very young star hung in the inky sky, surrounded by billions of other stars – some shining, some twinkling, some shooting and some falling. “Look down there,” said the old star to the young star. “What do you see?” The young star peered down, past the other stars, through the galaxy’s swirls and streaks to the speck called Earth. It was a mere particle, but no matter. For a star had the power to observe earthly activities as clearly as a ...
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