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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Dec, 2023
Submitted to Contest #307
I remember the day that The Changing began. It came as a shock even though I had been warned of its arrival since I was ten. Long conversations with ambiguous terms hinted at the approach of womanhood and the many responsibilities that accompanied it. There were endless TV commercials, forbidden aisles of grocery stores, and the cabinet beneath Mom’s sink which was off limits to little girls, which I am. Or which I was. There were also the times wherein Mom’s momfriends would watch me tug on her arm with all my might during an overly-long co...
Submitted to Contest #286
The old man remained idly inside the door to his flat, racking his brain for memories that seemed to retreat from his grasp like minnows, ribbon-like and slippery. Civil Control Station. 8:00AM on Saturday. Essential personal effects. His mind whirred fruitlessly, grasping at these wisps of cloud and trying to tie a thread from one thought to another. Saturday. 8AM. It was Friday afternoon, a brisk March day typical of this lower end of San Francisco. Kiyoshi could always note the afternoon hours by the lances of clean light that cut t...
Submitted to Contest #271
Her thumbs pushed deftly into her shut eyelids, as if the pressure could halt the pulsing headache thrumming through her head with a nauseating swell. Mona concentrated on the needling fireworks of color playing against the inside of her eyelids. And, of course, there was that feeling again. That fluttering nestled in the soft cleft beneath the sternum - a flailing, scrambling, slipping need to scream. “Mona, what are you doing? We’re supposed to be walking out the door this minute. Tell me you’re ready to go.” Mona’s eyes snapped open to me...
Submitted to Contest #231
The heavy door swung open, ushering in a vacuum of cold air that settled in the bones like a bird landing on a perch. Radio chatter sifted through cinnamon-laced warmth and a freshly purchased fir tree stood proudly in the center of the festively-adorned living room. The hollow patter of little stockinged feet on the dark wood floor coincided with a muffled cry from several rooms away. Suddenly, the home became alive with fumbling footsteps and hurried words exchanged behind a closed door. The stockinged feet propelled themselves into the ar...
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