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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Feb, 2024
Submitted to Contest #286
The house was locked but a note hung on the door, flapping in the wind. It seemed important. Willow’s hands shook as she sputtered out letter sounds. The lines jumbled as if the sentences had torn apart, been thrown into the air, and haphazardly landed on the paper. Reading always daunted her but she kept her eyes fixed on the words. It took three tries before she fully understood the message.Willow, we have been searching for you. You cannot stay at your house because your dad will not be there. Pack a bag and return to the Murphy's h...
Submitted to Contest #284
Drool slides from the corner of my mouth and rolls under my chin. As I lift my head, I notice the blotch of saliva on the decorative throw pillow. I'm groggy and haggard. My body, heavy under a blanket of despair, wants nothing but to fall asleep until this day ends. A sigh escapes me, and I collapse to the pillow, urging my mind to slip back into the peaceful slumber I was in a few minutes ago. Two minutes turn into five minutes; five minutes turn into ten minutes. My attempt is feckless. I slide my foot to the edge and press my hand on the...
Submitted to Contest #282
"Hey, folks! Merry Christmas to everyone out there celebrating on this cold and blustery morning. It seems that Santa brought more than presents this year. He delivered a sack of snow. Yes, folks, we got eight inches of snow through the night. It's a white Christmas!"I'm dreaming of a white Christmas reeled from an old 1984 boombox. Earl hummed as he armored himself in an apron with the words Merry Christmas penned under a fat Santa. Earl had woken about the time of a rooster's crow to visualize the order of things, and now th...
Submitted to Contest #276
The EncounterI noticed the glassy eyes first, then her unsteady stance. Before she could speak, her son, William, rushed to the door to receive the box of food I was offering. She backed away demurely and unsure of my presence. I knew William from the mentor program, but this was the first time I met his mother. There was no father, only older siblings who had moved out of the apartment of this Title 8 housing complex. William thanked me and quickly bid me goodbye. I gave a cursory glance inside before leaving—two pieces of furniture and a s...
Submitted to Contest #273
Agnes’s Diary 1872 Written by Agnes Febron in Pennsylvania State Hospital I only wanted to scare Hetty. I thought the sight of the gun would stop the insanity. It was Hetty who came after me that day. She caught me in the canning room. She came not only to confront me but to kill me. She was angry with me because she wanted her sister to marry Laurence and I wasn’t going to let anyone ruin what I built with my husband. After all, I am the lady of the manor! I felt the s...
Submitted to Contest #271
Telltale TrailA walking path meandered through a forest beside a small town with a lustrous square garden and gazebo in its center. Every year Oktoberfest was celebrated in the square with traditional food and fanfare. On a cool October evening, the square came alive with gaiety- throngs of party goers weaving through dense crowds, groups huddled, listening to loud bands blaring instruments, picnic tables of people eating tasty, deep-fried food and steaming stews, drinking dark brews and warm ciders, and winners and losers playing High Strik...
Submitted to Contest #241
Charlotte smoked a cigarette on the balcony while I stuffed pieces of her life in boxes. Her promise to have it all packed before today was a ruse to rope me into helping her move to another apartment. After finishing her second cigarette, she staggard back inside, maneuvering herself around piles of stuff with rumpled hair and a half-buttoned sweater over a crumpled t-shirt, then joined me in the kitchen, where I was packing dishes. I couldn't take the lingering smell of the cigarette smoke, so I excused myself. I decided to work in the bed...
Submitted to Contest #240
The Magic in the WindBy Kristine K. McCraw My reflection, a silhouette of contemplation, stared back at me from the water. I sat on the dock like The Thinker—crouched forward, furrowed brow, and deep into my thoughts. A breeze skimmed the surface of the water and washed over me. I watched my reflection ripple. Should I mail the letter? I asked myself again. Its power was peculiar—so light in weight, I could barely...
Submitted to Contest #237
Going East, Spruce Street led to the little town of Treesville. Going West, it traveled through the wide-open space of the country where White Pine Highway crossed over Spruce. This is the crossroad where I discovered my true love. Friday afternoon, my mind was tapping out thoughts of a good weekend as I drove west on Spruce toward my little country cape cod. It was a yellow kind of day: sunny, energetic, and almost happy hour. I planned a short nap before meeting Marcia at Town Tavern by six. Let's go, people. My head was screaming at the r...
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