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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Oct, 2020
Submitted to Contest #77
Amelia and her team were on the cusp of a breakthrough, she just knew it. They huddled around the spectrometer and collectively held their breath. Cups of tepid coffee, empty food containers, dirty dishes, and a general sense of organized chaos surrounded them. “C’mon, you little atomic goblin,” Chris murmured, breaking the hush. Amelia giggled, though it was more nerves than humor. “Three… two... one…” Jo whispered and together they watched as, well, nothing happened. Nothing. No reaction, no change, no breakthrough. ...
Submitted to Contest #71
“Hey, Nanna?” The scent of cinnamon hung in the air as I swept the brown powder and shards of glass into the dustpan. “Didn’t you used to make a kind of ginger-snickerdoodle hybrid cookie when I was younger?” “Yes. I made ginger cookies and snickerdoodle cookies and lots of other cookies.” She looked at me with a hint of confusion. It cleared as she recaptured the topic, “Which should we make, Lucy?” I felt a soft glow—the days when she remembered my name were the best ones. “Well,” I said, smiling at her. “I was thinki...
Submitted to Contest #69
“I’m HOME!” Trish cried out to everyone and no one in particular, slamming the door to punctuate her arrival. Trish typically entered every room expecting applause. Late. Always late. “You’re in the basement bedroom,” Kat muttered, half-heartedly helping Trish with her inordinate amount of luggage. “And mum’s not well, so dial it back—” Kat warned, laying down the ground rules as she’d always done since their childhood. She’d always use the same expression too, head tilted down, eyes raised, as if she were talking to an imbecile.“I’m. N...
Submitted to Contest #67
They said in the Aegean Sea lay Virago, an isle fair. Near the Dodecanese Islands, they said the Viragos descended from the Amazons, wounded warrior women settling farther southwest, away from the beasts of Crimea. Yet most importantly to Captain Wolcott “Plank Walker” Spaulding, they said the Viragos were the Keepers of Treasure Lost. A bounty was said to be on Virago, including armor, shields, helmets and gauntlets from ages past, hammered from the purest Ionian gold. Tales were told of silver axes, heavy broadswords, and jeweled daggers f...
Submitted to Contest #66
Marisol had been ready, willing and able to earn the contract the right way. After all, her cybersecurity firm, CyberAthena, was the best, and Nicholas Kozlosky needed the best.Kozlosky, Inc. was a multinational hedge fund, voraciously engaged in trading on financial markets around the globe. As far as Marisol could see, if a firm ever needed CyberAthena’s expertise in keeping the trading volume of short selling, leveraging, and derivatives safe, it was a target as rich as Kozlosky, Inc. She'd shown up an hour early for her appoin...
Submitted to Contest #65
On Halloween night, far into the forest primeval, past crumbling limestone tombs and gurgling black pools, greasy goblins and ghastly ghouls prepared excitedly for Spellsy!®—the largest (probably) annual spellcasting contest for nocturnal creatures who like to flex their creative enchanting muscles. As was their wont, three hideous witches gathered, muttering and murmuring their various and sundry complaints.“Fair is foul and foul is fair, but these Spellsy!® prompts are far too narrow for either,” griped Hurly Burly. “How do the ...
Submitted to Contest #64
Caroline:“She just wants to get to know you all better,” our father said. “Now that Julia is your stepmum, I think you three should make an effort.”“Make an effort seems to be a catchphrase of yours,” Caroline spat back at her father, mimicking his voice. “Isn’t that what you told Mum all the time? Lorraine, I think you should make an effort and keep this house clean; make an effort and lose two stone; make an effort and wear something more becoming; make an effort and paint your face—she made every effort you asked of her, and did it help h...
Submitted to Contest #63
By the time I stepped outside, the leaves were on fire. In the valley below our cabin, a grove of black walnut, sycamore, and cottonwood trees flickered and popped in the dawn. The stench of acrid smoke filled my lungs as I calculated how far the wildfire had spread overnight. How safe we felt before going to bed. Looking down at the tangle of mountain roads, I wondered fretfully which ones were still passable. We had arrived two days before, a veritable lifetime ago. I remember my contentment then, my determination to spend some focuse...
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