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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Feb, 2021
Getaway Car Unfortunately, love makes you do crazy things. Those were the words in the back of my head that day. “We’d be kinda like Bonnie and Clyde,” Marcus said, shaking my arms. He wiggled them so they jiggled like worms, and I shrugged and sighed. “I don’t know,” I groaned, leaning on the steering wheel. “Well maybe you don’t h...
The Shivering Skeleton “So, how are you today, Stephen?” “I’m alright.” My voice is as stiff as my posture. I sit upright in the wine-red velvet chair, careful not to wrinkle my freshly pressed suit. “You Von Walshes are always impeccably dressed,” she used to say, poking fun at me. She was always dressed in modern attire, silly things like flared jea...
The Milky Bar “Huh, I just realized it’s February fourteenth,” he said, looking down at his phone. “So?” she asked. “Happy Valentine’s Day!” He lifted his paper cup towards her to cheer, but she looked back blankly. “It’s an old commercial holiday from my home planet. It’s a celebration of romance.” “Oh.” She smiled, nervously. “Where is that?” “Terre. It’s actu...
The Children of Nine Thick curtains weighed heavily against the high windows of the drawing-room. They narrowed the tunnel of light to a sliver between burgundy velvet. I had never been in the mayor’s house before, but this is exactly how I’d imagined it, dark and grand with an air of mystery, like the lair of a rich villain. All the houses on Nine street looked like they...
Oh, Leane The ceiling lamp flickered like a cliché horror film, casting an eerie light of uncertainty across the small kitchen. The walls were lined with shelves of pots and containers with suctioned lids, overflowing with lavender, mint, and ground tea leaves. Above is where my teacups neatly hung on hooks, on display like tiny trophies. Having collected them since I was about te...
*TW MISCARRIAGE* Mother Nature By Laura Pamenter I caught Andrew watching me from the kitchen window. His eyes tracked down to the pile of china plates drowning in the bubbly sink when our eyes met, terrified, as he often was now, to face me. I suppose it was my bark—hoarse like a heavy smoker—that always trailed after he said anything to me. ‘How are you feeling?’ ‘...
1-800-Spiritual-Specialists Laura Pamenter There is no weather in the phantom realm. Just a gust of wind of every time a new ghost transports to our world, leaving behind their first home. The banshee-like howl of the wind woke me today. It tore through my bedroom window like a hurricane, sharp and ferocious. They say sleep isn’t necessary f...
The “M” in FOMO stands for Mars By Laura Pamenter I roll over in my cot and look out my oval window to the dusty red horizon. My bedsheets are rough on my bare arms, as they’re made from scratchy canvas, locally grown on our cotton-field where I earn my barely liveable salary. “Be a part of the new world!” they said. “Be the future...
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