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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Apr, 2021
Submitted to Contest #244
“We want to thank you for your generous offer and we gratefully accept,” says Dr Long. Marlow nods emphatically. Awaken, their multi-layered virtual reality simulation, gives the user the opportunity to interact with a loved one who has passed on. There’s a set up process that takes some time, but once complete, the user only needs to insert the programmed contact lenses into their eyes to begin the simulation. "Awaken" is the name they chose, and, after the many sleepless nights that have led up to this business meeting, the irony make...
Submitted to Contest #161
Warning: loss of a child The papers laid out on the coffee table are yellow with old news. He jiggles the stiff window latch open; it needs a little oil. The lively commotion from the street below fills the silence that hangs in Helen's empty home.He wipes down the mantelpiece, dusting a photo of the five of them at his son’s wedding in 2009. He and Val have their arms around each other, looking proudly at their boy, while Helen and her sister laugh with their little brother.He lifts Helen's ashtray, a cheap trinket from a holiday to Tenerif...
Submitted to Contest #157
It was all Charlie's fault, really. They moved away because he fell in the pool. It meant Max had to leave his and Charlie's bedroom with the two cartoon frogs on the wall that Charlie and Da had spent hours labouring over with their paintbrushes. "My two little frogs" Da said, beaming at his sons, his paint flecked hands on his hips as he admired his handiwork. It meant leaving the street on which he, Charlie and the McCarthy brothers spent hours racing their bikes, up and down endless times, each of them hopeful that this time, they would ...
Submitted to Contest #140
I remember when we were young, we would sneak up to your attic to watch the fields turn to gold. Do you remember that, Marian? The ladder was spiky with splinters, and we had to be careful of our hands. When we got up there, in between inhaling clouds of dust, we would unlatch the window and look out at the setting sun. You could see the end of the world from your attic window, Marian. We were like two little sparrows looking out from the eaves, me and you.Do you remember, when we were young, Marian? We would run down to the bakery and pick ...
Submitted to Contest #126
We pull up in the driveway on a crisp New Year’s Eve morning. It's been two months since I ran away, two months since my failed fresh start.The social worker is watching me. I avoid her gaze.“I won’t be long.”“Take as long as you need, Emer. I’ll be here.” As I leave the car, I catch her gaping at the glass-enclosed terrace, the twin koi ponds that edge along the stone path to the front door, the lavish grounds with green shrubbery, dusted with a fine sprinkling of white ice. I wonder if she thinks I am mad for running away.We're o...
Shortlisted for Contest #109 ⭐️
They say we are made mostly of water, but I am made mostly of air.At work, they call me The Shadow, because I’m built like a narrow doorway and glide noiselessly on the red rubber floors. My world is populated by the ghosts of my past; most prominently the spectre of my sister, Grace.On the geriatric rehabilitation ward, I check cannulas, pass out painkillers, hold hands and heave bedpans. I gently guide my patients through basic motions and write up their treatment plans. I gravitate towards the elderly; they have stories to tell and I like...
Submitted to Contest #106
Day 1In the summer, the fires come. You feel them before you see them; they form an invisible wall of pure heat. Usually, they devour the wild brush and grass that fringes my city, but this year, they poured onto us like lava, swallowing up homes, schools and hospitals, sightless, ravenous, merciless.My apartment is on the fourteenth floor, so I saw the blaze rolling over the city lines like a flaming tsunami. I saw people, as tiny as ants, running for their lives.I bundled my phone and laptop into my backpack, shoved clothes and food i...
Winner of Contest #101 🏆
Colleen is packing to leave for university. She folds her clothes into neat piles, her fair hair arranged in an artfully messy bun, with gold strands curling around her face. She packs her rolled up socks into the maze of groves left by the clothes piles. Her movements are thoughtful and tender, like she is tucking them into bed. I watch her from my quiet corner outside the door of her room, chewing on a hangnail. I am still wearing my pyjamas and I haven’t showered yet today. I stare at her, willing her to hear my voice in her hea...
Winner of Contest #98 🏆
I am spinning slowly in my tank, suspended in doped-up air, buoyant, bobbing. Piano music (Beethoven?) plays softly in the background. My eyes are closed, but if I opened them, I would see only pale yellow light enclosing me in a warm glow.I like the piano music. It makes me feel calm. That, alongside the sedation. The Facility keeps mine light, because I prefer it that way, and because I am well-behaved. The Facility knows my ways, knows I don’t misbehave. I have been here for a long time now. It must be years, though there is no sense of t...
Submitted to Contest #96
Katy arrived on my doorstep drenched from a summer shower with a single plastic bag full of her belongings. Her social worker, Siobhán, smoked under a chic umbrella, dark sunglasses over red lipstick. I offered Katy a towel, while Siobhán stubbed out her cigarette in my trinket dish and tossed her sopping umbrella over a houseplant. It didn’t take long to give the house tour of my ramshackle home. The two trailed along behind me, Siobhán inspecting, Katy drifting, as aimless as a ghost. I opened Katy’s room and stepped aside. I had stri...
Submitted to Contest #92
Francie wakes to a half drawn curtain pouring sunlight on her face. Sleepily, she rolls out of bed and pads to the kitchen, skipping around any pools of sunlight streaming in through the slants in the windows. She makes herself a cup of coffee and sits at her writing desk, inhaling the tangy aroma, heady and delicious. She sits with her head nestled in her hands and sifts methodically through her thoughts, watching the spools of steam rise in the air above her cup.We don’t get much sunshine in Ireland, something deep inside her complains. Yo...
Submitted to Contest #91
Nanny told me not to, but I did it anyway.For the Irish history project, some picked the Famine, some the invasion of the Vikings. I picked the history of our town, Ballymunroe, for no reason other than that it seemed to require the least amount of effort. Nanny grumbled as she squeezed us fresh orange juice, the pan of rashers and eggs crackling next to her.“Why would you pick that? Sure can’t I tell you everything you need to know about it? Haven’t I lived here all my life?” She flipped an egg, sunny side down, just the way I liked it...
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