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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Mar, 2021
Submitted to Contest #301
There is no question that my girlfriend Ebony is what some guys would call “a handful.” And before you think I’m some misogynistic jerk, I don’t mean it in that piggish way that guys refer to the size of a woman’s breasts. Not that Ebony’s breasts aren’t great—in fact, they’re the best pair that I’ve encountered in my thirty-seven years of well, having the awesome privilege of experiencing women’s breasts.Now I’m starting to sound like I’m obsessed with boobs when I’m honestly more of a butt guy. Okay, let’s be real. I am a fan of women’s bo...
Submitted to Contest #299
From: Levi Jones <420itstimetoroll@gmail.com>Sent: Friday, February 7, 2025 7:44:39 AMTo: Professor Reyes< sreyes@smallvillecommunitycollege.edu>Subject: Agree to Disagree about Dwight (Sociology 100, section 54072)Dear Professor Reyes,First of all, your last lecture on meme culture totally resonated with me. I think memes are an awesomely underrated way of expressing emotions, especially for people like me who don’t really understand their emotions and definitely don’t like to use a lot of words.Speaking of memes--what if I subm...
Submitted to Contest #298
It gets exhausting, this compulsion to apologize for every stupid thing that comes out of my mouth. Okay, maybe not stupid—more like thoughtless. It seems that no matter what I say, or how gently I try to couch my words in an uplifting tone, I manage to offend, annoy or generally piss people off.My efforts at keeping my thoughts to myself, or at least severely toning them down for general consumption, are failing miserably. It seems that every other word out of my mouth is some epically failed attempt to make nice. It might be time to accept...
Submitted to Contest #294
The motley crew of five grizzled, road-weary, yet jocular lifelong friends sat in a row at the bar, ready to toast the end of another long week. As had been their tradition for the past twenty-five years, the self-named Compadres met up at The Rancher’s Cut Bar and Grill every Friday at 5 pm, give or take.The men worked hard, earning their happy hour tradition: Rick was a chicken farmer, Phil owned and managed a fleet of porta-potties, Ernie was a letter carrier, Mick was an electrician who pretty much fixed everything that went wrong in tow...
Submitted to Contest #291
My wife, using colorful words that I won’t repeat here, had the audacity to accuse me of being obsessed with my hair. My first instinct, of course, is to strongly deny this unfounded indictment and explain to you the reason my affinity for my hair is most decidedly NOT an obsession. I am not balding, newly consumed by creating the perfect combover to cover a growing bald spot. In fact, I have the opposite problem—unruly, thick hair that has always had a mind of its own.For my entire life, controlling the disaster that is my hair has been an ...
Submitted to Contest #290
The room is overflowing with eager conference attendees, abuzz with palpable dreams of transformation. The theme of this week’s retreat is “Finding the True You.” Makes me want to vomit, but hey, I just work here. I took this extra shift, in desperate need of quick cash after my boyfriend abruptly moved out. He offered to pay his share of the rent for the next few months, but my new Functioning Adult Status, and frankly my pride, didn’t allow me to accept his money. I’m rethinking that decision right now as I’m working for the eighth day in ...
Submitted to Contest #288
Trigger warning: references to suspected domestic violence (no specific details) The wind shifted, carrying punishing sheets of rain that sent the pendant lights crashing into each other. The palm trees swayed in the distance as a dull roar signaled the storm’s arrival. There was a collective gasp, turning to laughter, as we all were instantly drenched by the surprisingly warm rain. Moments earlier, we had been sitting around the mahogany bar under a thatched roof, sharing shots and conversation. Our group had the shared fortune of discover...
Submitted to Contest #286
The longest time Sarah has gone without acknowledging my existence is three weeks. Those were, without a doubt, the longest three weeks of my life. It took everything in me to merely exist, my spirit fading with each passing day. My world felt like a desert seeking water, my very foundation cracking. Sarah becomes like this when work consumes her. She tries to maintain a balance, but her drive overtakes her perfunctory attempts to include me in her world. When she has a deadline, her focus narrows into a tunnel of awareness that includes onl...
Submitted to Contest #284
September 15, 2024Functioning Adult Status Application Dear Universe, I respectfully submit this claim as evidence that I have reached “Functioning Adult Status.” I kindly request that you review my “Hard Lesson” summary below, along with the required “Life Lesson Impact Statement.” For your convenience, these lessons are listed in chronological order but are not necessarily in the order of gravity or life impact. My therapist has indicated that these rankings may change over time as I become more mature and better able to understand m...
Winner of Contest #283 🏆
Being invisible is my superpower. I don’t mean that I’m a superhero who is out slaughtering villains, cape flapping in the wind as I zoom over the New York skyline. The truth is, instead, that I am a “woman of a certain age” who has suddenly morphed into invisibility.But don’t worry, this isn’t going to be a poor me story written by a middle-aged woman longing for her past. That would accomplish nothing. And I am a person who gets things done. I’m used to being the one that everyone turns to for answers, and the one who pretended I wasn’t aw...
Submitted to Contest #282
“I’m sorry boss, better luck next time,” Victor said to the man across the counter. And he meant it—this dude looked like he could use some luck. The other man’s name was Rick, although Victor wouldn’t find that out until many months later. On this day, Rick slowly shook his head and slid his losing $10 Scratcher ticket across the counter, muttering “Just toss it.” He walked away with the shuffle of an old man, but his face was that of someone closer to forty. Victor knew he would see the man again next week when he once again tried hi...
Submitted to Contest #98
It started with the little things. Like not being able to get a parking spot in front of his house for the third day in a row. Or when he went to his favorite burger bar only to be told they were out of buns, but could give him a lettuce wrap instead—um, no. Diego really started to suspect that his luck had turned when his dog Bruno got sick, seemingly out of nowhere. The dog recovered but inexplicably began leaning to the left when he walked, his previously expressive giant brown eyes replaced with a pleading, vacant look. Diego could barel...
Submitted to Contest #91
The crumpled business card bore a simple and cutting phrase, scrawled in blue ink: “I am a truly spineless piece of shit.”The card fluttered to the floor when Allison opened the well-worn copy of The Prince of Tides, the call number on the spine faded to the point of near invisibility. She wondered which of the hipster guests of “The Beach Retreat” would have possibly shoved the card in an old library book. Did they find the book on her “leave a book, take a book” shelf in the lobby, or did they actually bring a library book on their surf va...
Submitted to Contest #86
You aren’t the first person to tell me that I am an arrogant bastard. I assure you that I really am not; I am just horribly, indescribably, frustratingly misunderstood. But I think you know that about me, by now.I was different then, back when I first met you.I was full of big ideas, riding high on the approval of my second patent. I was young and still had the illusion of being in control of my life.And then, there was you. The day we met, forever etched in my mind as one of those perfect days. That bright cloudless March morning with the s...
Submitted to Contest #84
Jane knew it must be either December or June, because she clearly remembered someone talking about yesterday being the solstice. Not someone she was actually talking to, but a person on television, probably. Or it could have been the delivery person from the Thai place down the street. Jane concluded that it couldn’t be the winter solstice, because she totally would have noticed if it was cold outside. Not that she had been outside in the past three months, or possibly four months, with each day being just like the last one. Jane had been ke...
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