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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jan, 2022
Submitted to Contest #263
John Fisher saw his rival in the bathroom before the contest and knew he would lose again. His stomach dropped at the the other's aura of invincibility, standing ramrod straight, and a lean, fit physique.John did not know if he could beat him today; he still had the headache, and an vague imbalance from his poor sleep last night. John kept his head down, maybe he wouldn’t be noticed.“Hey.” The Man spoke as John washed his hands. John stopped, then looked up to catch his eye, reflected through the mirror. The Man wore all black, his coun...
Submitted to Contest #260
Something terrible, Tina James knew, had happened because her heart raced, and she could barely breathe, but she couldn’t remember what, the last few hours had blurred in her mind. She stared across the counter at the woman in the green uniform and tried to remember how she got here, to this horrible little place, with the blazing lights and the noise. “What’s your boy’s name?” The woman in the uniform asked.“My boy?” Tina blinked, the bright lobby had too many colors and too many sounds. It felt like a ni...
Submitted to Contest #259
With exquisite skill and talent, Matt Perucho would show her the man he was. No longer would he be the dorky Asian kid, but with her on his arm, the coolest guy in school. He knew this was his chance to impress Lani Macatangay, his true love.He felt the three rubber balls in his pocket, then tapped his foot; pressed his pants straight with his hands, and pulled at his collar.In his best suit, bought for his cousin’s wedding last summer, he practically sparkled in the pale blue with a matching tie. He knew he looked good in it, his ...
Submitted to Contest #257
***discussion of suicide****You have to be completely dead to be buried at Arlington National Cemetery, not just mostly dead. But I went anyway, figuring I could kill off the rest of me easy enough on the cross country trip with whiskey, or if desperate, my Sig Sauer. What had been saved after the surgeries, the best bits, I had secured in a box. Army hospitals don’t have much in the way of ceremonial boxes, so I used what I could find. I thought about using my Silver Star presentation box, or the Purple ...
Submitted to Contest #256
Kailani balanced on her Alaia wood surfboard as a Hawaiian goddess, her bronze skin flecked with the spray of salt water. A thick black braid flew behind her as she rode down the face of the wave, her fingers trailing in the crystal blue wall of water. One more day. She recited her fortune, told by her Auntie that morning , the one year anniversary of her Father’s death. ‘Your new future will land soon’. Kailani knew, deep in her heart, that tomorrow her whole life would change. “Damn, look at her fly!” Another surfer shouted as...
Submitted to Contest #255
If pi is an irrational number, does that make pie bakers irrational too? Jasmine certainly believed so, as she eyed the other bakers swirling around the church auditorium. Irrational maybe, but not ghosts, though somehow her dead Grandma had come back from the grave to enter her famous strawberry rhubarb pie.The Pi Day Pie Baking contest didn’t have many rules, the entries just had to be round, homemade and with a pastry bottom. Jasmine Dumas walked along the long tables looking at the competition, the entries glowing under the fluorescent l...
Submitted to Contest #253
I believe reality is relative, especially when what you see from behind a screen is designed, produced, and created by someone else. Our visitors come searching for the real world, a place where the sun shines, and they can touch the reality around them. We were going to give it to him, though he won't like what he’s going to get. Sally and I sat in our usual spot, the weight of the slow summer afternoon heavy on our shoulders, almost forgetting we had a job to do, when he finally stepped off the train. Lo...
Submitted to Contest #252
If Marcus Boddy knew it was going to be his last day on earth, he wouldn’t have drank so much. The dark room spun with alcohol-induced vertigo as he lay in the pillowy soft bed, enveloped in the plaid-patterned quilt. He shook his head back and forth, but the stitched, frilled edges still rubbed against his face. He grimaced, soft beds always wrecked his back. Everything was wrong, off track. He had to make a decision, but he couldn’t think straight.He fought through the fog in his head; something important happened earlier, he had a l...
Submitted to Contest #251
Manuscripts are from the devil, I’d been told, but I felt it too, evil emanating out like heat from a fire. I wrapped it in cloth to be safe, tucked it in my satchel, and now I wait.I had a few hours, enough time I’m sure before my Master discovered my absence, and my theft. I drank my beer down to forget the past, to focus on my future, my hope brightening the walls of the dark Public House.My eyes followed Evelyn as she moved around me, cleaning up from the night before. Her dark hair pulled back tight showed her pale beaut...
Submitted to Contest #249
“patio of Awaken Cafe- I’ll be wearing a hat - see you at noon!’ Joanna re-read the brief text message, looking for some further clue. A mustachioed man bumped her slightly as he walked past. Joanna appreciated his well cut suit, his mincing precise steps, and his unfortunately bare, well coiffed head Zach, Mr. Right, her rest-of-life partner, and future husband, would be waiting for her. That seemed like enough information yesterday, but now looking from the Awaken Cafe door out into the patio, filled with people at small met...
Submitted to Contest #247
Calvert Barrows, known to friends as CB, couldn’t do 10 push-ups in a row. He actually couldn’t do 2 push-ups in a row, but it sounded better when he said 10. Like he had gotten up to 9, and fell just short on his way to 10. A real man was strong enough to do 10 push-ups right? He needed to show his boys, Ben 6, and Theo 3, how to be a man, and push-ups seemed like a good place to start. He charted his plan out, designing a multi-tab spreadsheet in Excel with progressive increases, rest days, and of course a nutrition pla...
Submitted to Contest #241
Patrick O’shea had a knack for finding lost things, people, jewels, even stolen money, but when he got lost, that was a problem. He couldn’t find himself. Out of jail for almost a week, and he still didn’t feel right. O’shea moved the newspaper draped in front of him to catch the morning light coming through the open windows and door. The shaft of sun warmed only his right side, adding to his unbalance. O’shea felt untethered, let loose in a place where he no longer fit. He had no job or purpose anymore. How would he find...
Submitted to Contest #240
Christian Jones felt a breeze on his arm and almost jumped out of his skin.Was it a dream? He rubbed his shoulder against his cheek, and felt the dry sandpaper of a five-day stubble, skin burnt by the sun. The deep blue ocean surrounding their small boat had been playing tricks with his mind, mirages of land, and what did those looks from Rafe mean?Again, a gentle movement on his skin, and he leapt up.“Rafe! Captain Rafe, a breeze!” Christian turned to look at the mainsail, eager for it to fill with wind, to pull them out of the ho...
Submitted to Contest #239
Chef Tyla straightened the last chair on the beautifully decorated patio, huge palm plants surrounding brightly colored tables, fairy lights glittering, glasses and silverware set just so, ready for the guests coming that evening. “Everything looks perfect!” She said to Elbie standing next to her in his white apron. “With the money I’m going to make tonight, I just might make it." She looked around at her restaurant, what she stressed about, sweated over, fought for, during the past five years, all on her own. If everything wen...
Submitted to Contest #238
A grin exploded across his face as Harold Jones walked through the rows of desks to the front of the class to receive his award for the best story of the day. He could be a great writer, knew he had amazing stories stacked up inside him like shelves in a library, but just couldn’t get them them. He had always known this Writers retreat, held at the historic Arts Building at the University of Manitoba, would be the key to unlocking his success, and he finally was on his way. The writers gave up technology to create stories...
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