Matthew Turner

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jan, 2020

Stories (26)

26 Stories

531 karma pts

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“HS BFFs” by Matthew Turner

Submitted to Contest #54

“Why are there three quarts of sour cream on your mother’s list?” Heather asked “We’re a big dip bunch!” Rosalyn said with a wide grin “I could have gone my life without hearing that phrase.” They both shared a laugh as Rosalyn pushed the cart and Heather monitored everything that was going into the cart. To minimize time and save money the only things going into the cart were things on the list that Rosalyn’s mother, Donna, had given them. They made their way slowly down the aisles looking lost. The idle wander of someone trying to navi...

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“The Cottage” by Matthew Turner

Submitted to Contest #53

Trees whizzed by in a green blur as the little sedan made its way through the twists and turns of the winding road. It was single lane so there was some measure of caution to be expected but they knew the road too well so they sped along the way with little concern. It was just a few more miles on this road before they would take a left onto their private road towards their cottage                It had been nearly six months since the Smiths’ had visited their cottag...

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“Face Time” by Matthew Turner

Submitted to Contest #53

The room was dark. Craig rolled over and looked at the clock. It was 11:40. He had to think for a moment whether it was 11 in the morning or 11 at night. He reached over and moved the sun blocking curtain. Light shot in and illuminated a cylinder of clarity in the darkness. Must be morning. He figured now was good a time as any to wake up. He got out of bed and put on the same clothes he had on yesterday. And the day before that. What was the point of changing clothes? He wasn’t going anywhere. He wasn’t doing anything. He shuffled down the ...

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“The Chair” by Matthew Turner

Submitted to Contest #53

The last half of the last bit of Bart’s popsicle was sliding down the stick and before he could maneuver it to his mouth it slipped and shattered on the ground in an ugly cherry mess.               “Well if that hasn’t been my whole day”               “You want another popsicle?” Opal asked.               “Forget it, we’re already late...

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“The Big Day” by Matthew Turner

Submitted to Contest #52

The room was hot. Stifling hot. The building was old so everything in it was old, including the air conditioner and vent system. Derrick did his best to try to “think cool” so he wouldn’t sweat through the cheap rent-a-tux he was wearing. It wasn’t comfortable now and he couldn’t imagine it would get any better if he was soaking wet. His groomsmen were loosely gathered around him in the cramped room. It was in moments like this that he realized he didn’t have that many friends. There were five of them all together, him and the four groomsmen...

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“The Faithful” by Matthew Turner

Submitted to Contest #51

When Kira went to sleep, the guilt of her past would crush her. When she was awake it was easy to train herself to not think about it. She would focus on something, anything to not have to think about it. Why would she want to think about something like that, but when she started to slip into sleep her guard would drop. Those fuzzy moments when your breath slows and your eyes close and you begin to unwind your mind from the steady pace of the day. That was when the weight of it would press on her. She would squeeze her eyes shut to push out ...

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“Waiting” by Matthew Turner

Submitted to Contest #50

On the other side of that curtain the whole world was waiting. Her whole life had been on the stage but she still got nervous before a show. It was inevitable. And while it used to annoy her, she had accepted that the nervousness was the electricity that kept her on her toes. It kept her from getting comfortable. When you got comfortable you might get lazy and when you got lazy you got boring. Nobody paid to see boring. She made her way off stage and down the small hallway to her dressing room. It was painfully small with a large lighted m...

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“Get Loud” by Matthew Turner

Submitted to Contest #47

You’ve put it off long enough. What’s the point in hiding? Hiding means you think you’re doing something wrong. You’re not wrong, you’re right. You’ve spent enough time unlearning everything the world tried to press into you about fitting a specific mold. Nobody fits a mold. You know that now. Everything that isn’t the truth is a lie. Remember that. Stop pretending to be something you’re not. The first step is to be real. The real real. Get rid of the fake, the false, the façade. Sure, you were good years ago but lately? Rubbish. It’s the ...

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“97 Pages” by Matthew Turner

Submitted to Contest #46

It was a secret. It had to be a secret. Every time Jess would tell someone about it she would end up losing the battle against her own apathetic nature. She told no one. No hype. No expectations. Nothing but the work. But now that it was done the bitch would be finding people to give it to. People who wouldn’t just kiss her ass or stroke her ego. Someone who would rip it apart. Find the meat and help her clear out the gristle. She needed someone mean. But not too mean. Being as green as she was she didn’t want to be totaled on her first ambi...

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“Casey's Time” by Matthew Turner

Submitted to Contest #27

His heart was on fire. A burning beating mass inside his body that was loud enough that he could hear it and wondered if someone else was sitting in the car would they hear it too. His mind raced over every detail of what was about to happen. He tried playing it forward in his mind. Taking every opportunity to overthink and imagine the worst possibly outcome, weaving a spiders web of nightmare scenarios. All the outcomes, best to the worst, were then set aside. His mind was made. He was going to rob the corner store. Just a year ago Casey wo...

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“Little Mozart” by Matthew Turner

Submitted to Contest #26

Mozart was buried in an unmarked grave. No pomp nor circumstance. The greatest musical mind thrown into a dirt hole. Jody thought about this as he sat in the windowless waiting room on the fourth floor of a government building. The hum of electricity was a B flat. The sharpness of the plain rooms details were perfectly lit in the dim light of fluorescent bulbs. He was there to apply for government housing. A fittingly low point in the life of someone who had once appeared on the cover of several nationwide publications under the title of “th...

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Author bio

I'm writing in my downtime at work. Maybe one day I'll be able to write on my own time