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Marilyn Flower

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Sep, 2024

Stories (10)

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12 Followers

11 Following

10 Stories

186 karma pts

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Draft 27

Submitted to Contest #310

I enlarged the font and reread the last paragraph. “Melody closed her eyes and inhaled the warmth of Jeremy’s breath on her cold face. Trudging in the snow, checking on sheep out to pasture was not her idea of a good time. But there was something about Jeremy–maybe the twinkle in his eye, or his wry, Irish sense of humor that made her follow him anywhere. Especially when they stopped to warm up in each other’s arms.” Then I quickly reduced it again and wanted to hurl. That story wasn’t going anywhere. Just like my previous twenty-five...

9 likes

SOULSWAP™: Starter Kit for the Existentially Restless or Just Simply Curious

Submitted to Contest #306

I told myself I wasn’t going to cry as I grabbed a new box of Kleenex. My Jeramie was off to college with his Boho girlfriend in her rusty VW bug. Our Suburu station wagon had tons of room but they needed to do it their way, unencumbered by the baggage of the youth they were in a hurry to outgrow. As I try for one final hug, Bethany yells something about the window being stuck. She lights a joint and smoke fills the Beetle as they flee their childhoods. Jees. They couldn’t wait till they were down the driveway? I wave till my carpel tunnel s...

5 likes

The Ghost Who Came in from the Cold

Submitted to Contest #304

New Orleans was the last place on my list of peaceful writerly getaways. But when my great aunt Millie offered up her little place in Metairie for free if I’d go there and freshen it up for what she called the season, I couldn’t say no. Metairie in January was quiet enough to hear your own second thoughts, and far enough away from the second lines of the infamous French Quarter.Not that I’d be tempted by the revelry–not with a deadline looming and a neurotic New York publisher breathing down my neck. But as a recovering alcoholic, the more m...

11 likes

Help Me Die

Submitted to Contest #300

Help me die…help…me…die I couldn’t get those words out of my mind. They burrowed into my brain as only persistent earworms can the whole way up Highway 101. Not even the majestic redwoods wrapped in their cool, foggy shawls could silence Mom’s manic mantra. Did I help her? Let’s get the suspense out of the way right now. Yes, I did. But it took a while. The last thing on earth I wanted was to say goodbye to the woman who raised me single-handedly on a wing and a prayer and very little else–no thanks to my good-for-nothing father who I ...

8 likes

The Funniest and Realest

Submitted to Contest #298

I love my body.I truely do. Everything about it. Everything, that is, except my ears.They’re not just big.Big ears I could live with. All the better to hear you with, my dear.But they’re—sorry bunnies—fricking big rabbit ears.Seriously.They stick up about seven inches from the top of my head. And no, they don’t flop over. And no, they aren't soft and furry like the read deal.They’re human ears. Made out of fleshy cartilage just like yours. Only humongous.Too big to cover with a wig or a hat.And too embarrassing not to.So, no surprise, I’m a ...

11 likes

Best Laid Plans

Submitted to Contest #297

Stolen kisses are the hottest.Maybe that’s why I have no resistance to the offers I get on the dance floor. Or at the bar. Or even at the office, though that’s a lot more risky.Maybe because of the daylight. There’s something about broad daylight both heightens the risk and flattens the high I crave from those sweet, racy moments.Better to be safe than sorry, I tell myself. And Brad I tell to go fuck himself. In the nicest way, of course. And no, he’s not my boss. Thank God. He’s just the mail room guy, and he’s not really my type. Too blond...

3 likes

In the Name of Love

Submitted to Contest #296

All my life I’ve loved trees. More than most people. And I mean that both ways. I’ll take a tree for companionship any day over a loud-talking, gum-smacking, wise-ass know-it-all all windbag who won’t shut up until he’s bragged about every spelling bee, strip poker, or Trivia Pursuit game he’s ever entered, lost, or won. Or a needy, gushy woman who can’t stop talking till she’s confessed every heart-break, faux pas, and time she’s been done wrong so often, you can’t help but memorize her words, and then they get stuck in your head like ...

6 likes

Epistles to Heaven from a Disgruntled Daughter

Submitted to Contest #294

Dear Daddy,I’m not sure how this Heaven App works, or if it does, but the guy said it transforms my words and their sentiments into anti-particles that penetrate the life-death barrier. Meaning that on some level you, or maybe your spirit, will receive them some kinda way I didn’t fully grok, and that you will be able to communicate back to me. So before I go bearing my soul, let me hear from you. Does this mashugina gizmo really work?  Love,Your curious but somewhat estranged daughter,Myrna***@_++%%%!!!!xxxx~~~&...

7 likes

Flying Home

Submitted to Contest #293

You know how you get on a plane and grab the window seat? But then you put your coat and bag on the middle seat, hoping to make it look like someone’s sitting there. They just went to the lavatory to take a quick pee before takeoff.  That’s when the flight attendant comes on over the PA and says her usual spiel about this being a full flight, so get that idea out of your fuzzy little head of yours and prepare to be squished in like sardines packed in one of those tins that open with a funny-looking key thing.Well, she doesn’t ...

6 likes

The Day the Word Turned Grey

Submitted to Contest #292

The Day the Word Turned Grey Rachel felt the rumbling of the roads beneath the thin souls of her well-worn oxfords. The ominous vibration sent chills up and down her spine. “They’re coming,” she said to no one in particular.  Yet they all heard her, each responding in their own way.   Noah stopped flirting with Esther and closed the curtains. Esther lit the candles and dimmed the lights.   Papa checked under the floorboards where he stashed the guns he ‘didn’t have.’ And Mama started praying. “Shema Yi...

2 likes