Lynne McAnulty-Street

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Aug, 2020

Stories (3)

3 Stories

78 karma pts

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“From the Past.” by Lynne McAnulty-Street

Submitted to Contest #61

Lacey was about nine or ten when Joy, her Mum, asked her to go fetch her gold watch, while she and Robert, her Dad, were getting ready to go out. Lacey ran to fetch it, knowing this was a special sort of night out, as Mum and Dad never had dressed so grandly for ages. She gently slid the chest forward from the top of the cabinet, and let it drift down to sit on the edge of Mum’s bed. Lifting the arched wooden lid, there was the upper tray full of earrings and brooches.She’d once sneaked a flick through what was under the tray, and knew Grand...

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“Who Was Here?” by Lynne McAnulty-Street

Submitted to Contest #59

IN THE LAST SUNGLOW of twilight, a motorcycle thrummed into town along the beach road. No one noticed, if an absence of porch lights turning on meant anything.. Maybe everyone was on their back porches watching the orange tipped waves on the shore while sculling back a beer. On their store verandah, Singh and his wife were hauling in display racks before locking up. They never looked up from their work as he polished the windows while she swept the floor. They closed the door and turned off the lights - except one, near the back. Two bache...

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“Power's Down - How?” by Lynne McAnulty-Street

Submitted to Contest #58

Miss Deirdre stepped off the rising escalator on the fifth floor, into the usual vast empty-feeling open space. Window glazing on both sides allowed light to reach every corner, while in front of her the bank of escalators brought personnel up or down from all floors, to this one -- the lowest floor with elevators, being the only means of reaching the building’s egress below ground level. The floor began filling with people as more and more stepped off escalators, out of elevators from higher floors and off travellators from the other win...

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Author bio

I've been writing most of my life. But the "blahs" hit me a few years ago, and I've achieved nothing. Zero. Nada. It's been too long, and I've been comparing my writing against too many other ("better") writers. This is just one place where I may get some mojo back, hidden in a world of creative prompts which I may, or may choose not to, follow precisely. Here's hoping one person - just one - finds something in my work worth commenting on.