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Author on Reedsy Prompts since May, 2024
Submitted to Contest #304
“The first challenge every pro writer must face is deadlines,” After class, Professor Markle put an inbox in the assignment tab and a description. “The most common excuse I here from aspiring writers who never have anything on their paper is that they don’t have the time. Between classes, supporting the family, a full-time job and kids, I can’t make it happen every day. I had all of these things before I was 30, and I made it happen.” Here he goes again with the gloating. “This assignment is a contest. Write a short story about a time, real ...
“The first challenge every pro writer must face is deadlines,”After class, Professor Markle put an inbox in the assignment tab and a description. “The most common excuse I here from aspiring writers who never have anything on their paper is that they don’t have the time. Between classes, supporting the family, a full-time job and kids, I can’t make it happen every day. I had all of these things before I was 30, and I made it happen.” Here he goes again with the gloating. “This assignment is a contest. Write a short story about a time, real ...
Submitted to Contest #297
“Mrs. Webb, what about the homework you assigned over break?” That’s all I needed to say to have five VERY bad kids in my algebra class after my throat. So, let me set the atmosphere. I’m Max, it’s the end of Monday after spring break at Frederick Douglass Junior Academy. Mrs. Webb, our algebra teacher, took her job seriously enough to give us a trigonometry pamphlet over the break. I did all of mine before I even clicked the TV on, and turned it in with a smile. But it was definitely me against the world here. A minority of students wal...
Submitted to Contest #285
Outside the windows poured a river that fell from the clouds. The brick walls that boxed me in bled a dark damp grey. All I had to do was utter one sentence to revive that frozen ambiance from the day she died. The mom was holding her face. She wasn’t crying yet, but I knew she knew this topic would reopen suppressed wounds. Then there was the dad. His black-yellow thousand-yard scowl locked me in a seat at the table. Fine by me. My sanity depended upon this. If sitting was as far as I could go, I’ll be joining her soon enough as compensatio...
Submitted to Contest #267
Note: This story contains elements of sexuality and strong language. I made some of the character speak as stereotypes to fit the message. It's also very long, and I Just wanted to let the readers know, beforeheand. There are no years in your life quite as memorable as your youth. When you are young, you can be fun, you can be stupid, you don’t have to do the things you don’t want to do. Every preceding year, from four years old to 18 years old, you are handed a platter of people to know, people to love in life, before idling 60 hours of ...
Submitted to Contest #250
“You. Me. A Live Skunk. What are we going to do with it? Prank Ms. Donovan, of course! I can see it already. Uh Oh! There was a wee little misplacement we made, bagging her precious Hanukkah Wishlist. She takes it home after nine to five and crashes out on the romance novel piles on her couch. She blacks out, then she wakes up. She’s surrounded. By what you ask? Musk, a STINKY musk. A musk so thick and potent you could feel its stench ball up in your hands. You know what that means. The stench drives in the fight or flight response. She wan...
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