Advice, insights and news
Free 10-day publishing courses
Free publishing webinars
Free EPUB & PDF typesetting tool
Launch your book in style
Assemble a team of pros
A weekly short story contest
Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jun, 2020
''Ben Parks. My, my, my.'' officer Gregory says, grinning, while shaking his head. ''What would your father think? What would he, the President, think if he found out about your 'escapades' with the rebels? Hm?'' he peers, leaning forward, hands gripping the back of the metal chair he made me sit in. I pull back when his warm, tobacco-scented breath blows in my face, filling my lungs with the foul, intoxicating ...
''It doesn't count if you're already planning your defeat. You know that, right?'' his voice breaks the silence of the room suddenly. I lift my gaze and hold his. His gaze is steady, levelled, but serious – meaningful. I wrap my arms around myself, and glance downwards. Everything feels so claustrophobic, so cramped. As if it's all closing in on me. As if this small dim-lit room with brick-faced walls and wooden crates a...
I sit next to him, on his right, my knees pulled up to my chest. I stare out into the room we sit in, the tree house we sit in. My eyelids feel heavy as they sag down, with my long, dark lashes flitting about. I still can't quite get over what happened yesterday, how the world is forever changed. How my life and everyone else's will never be quite the same after what happened. After the rebellion. The resistance.
''So... what do you say?'' He prompted, sitting across from me on an old -very old- armchair. The material started to wear off on the seat, making it look rather bad and badly taken care of. He stared into my eyes, making me understand this was a serious question, his offer, too. I held my breath and clasped my hands together, tapping my right leg on old floorboards as I, too, sat in an old seat. ''Uhmm....
I stare down at my watch: 11.50 a.m. I sigh, shaking my head. She always does this, always stands me up. She's always making promises she can't keep, always making plans that she doesn't stick to. I'm tired of this, and sometimes -guiltily- tired of our relationship, tired of us. I sit in a small Café, with an empty seat by my side, and two empty seats opposite me. She would've been sitting in one of them...
'Suitcase in hand, you head to the station.' You walk to the station, as it's not too far from where you stay - a slight limp-like effect as you walk slowly, with a much-too-heavy suitcase. ''God, I knew this bag would be too heavy!'' You grumble to yourself - under your breath as you waddle forward, the Sun blazing down on you. You pass homes of people with young children, their forms ...
I was lying on my back, on my soft bed, listening to music. The words and beat were dancing in the air from my radio. I hummed the lyrics as I stared at my ceiling, feeling bored and well, lost. I didn’t have anything to write about, no original stories, no original ideas. Nothing. My foot tapped - in the air, to the beat, my body quite literally enjoying the relaxation as well as the music being playe...
The stars were a form of new world, home.Theo and I loved to simply look up and stare. Stare, dream, wish... hope.The sky was a dark blue-blue color with highlights of black. Crickets could be heard nearby and I could smell the grass that surrounded us, as we sat side-by-side, without saying a word. We didn’t need to. All was said in the silence, and we knew it. Besides, the sight of the sky at night, with all its stars and having Theo next to me,...
Mara C has not written a bio yet!
Submit a short story based on one of 5 weekly prompts. Winners get $50 and will feature on our app! Sign up to get this week's prompts.
Oops, you need an account for that!
Log in with your social account:
Or enter your email: