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Meadow Hill

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Nov, 2024

Stories (23)

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23 Stories

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The Book of Denzel

Meadow Hill

Harold McAllister wasn’t your average movie buff. No, Harold didn’t just like movies—he lived them. And more specifically, he lived Denzel Washington movies.It started out innocently enough. A casual Friday night watching Training Day turned into a full weekend Denzel marathon. Then came the quotes. At first, they were sprinkled into conversations for effect.“King Kong ain’t got nothin’ on me!” he’d declare at work while trying to fix the office printer.“I’m leaving here with something,” he’d mutter at the grocery store checkout when the sel...

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The Illusion of Reality

Meadow Hill

The road stretched endlessly before Daniel as he drove through the thick fog, the headlights of his car barely piercing the dense mist. He gripped the wheel tightly, trying to shake the gnawing unease growing in his stomach. Hollow Creek wasn’t even on the map, but the directions had led him here—mile after mile of dark, towering trees lining the narrow, winding road.He glanced at the crumpled note in the passenger seat, the one he had found tucked inside his jacket pocket that morning. It had no sender, no explanation—just an address and a ...

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The Echoes of Hollow Creek

Meadow Hill

The Echoes of Hollow CreekThe road stretched endlessly before Daniel as he drove through the thick fog, the headlights of his car barely piercing the dense mist. He gripped the wheel tightly, trying to shake the gnawing unease growing in his stomach. Hollow Creek wasn’t even on the map, but the directions had led him here—mile after mile of dark, towering trees lining the narrow, winding road.He glanced at the crumpled note in the passenger seat, the one he had found tucked inside his jacket pocket that morning. It had no sender, no explanat...

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Escape From Fate

Meadow Hill

Elliot Grayson had always believed in fate. Not in the grand, mystical sense, but in the quiet, inescapable way life seemed to guide people down a preordained path. His father had been a fisherman, just like his father before him, and it had always been assumed Elliot would follow the same course. But he had dreams beyond the tides and the cold spray of the Atlantic.He had always longed to escape Fairhaven, the small coastal town that had held his family captive for generations. While others found comfort in familiarity, Elliot saw chains. H...

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The Hourglass Paradox

Meadow Hill

The Hourglass ParadoxThe old clockmaker’s shop stood at the very edge of town, tucked away between a crumbling library and an abandoned theater. Elias Wren, a man with silver-threaded hair and calloused hands, spent his days repairing watches and crafting intricate timepieces. But amidst the ticking of clocks and the gentle hum of gears, Elias kept his most prized possession hidden in a locked glass case: the Cosmic Hourglass.Unlike any other hourglass, this one did not contain simple sand. Instead, vibrant, swirling liquid cascaded through ...

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The Café Incident

Meadow Hill

The Café Incident"There’s this café downtown—"The Roasted Bean"—one of those fancy places where the baristas wear suspenders like they’re going to audition for the role of “Best Dressed Prohibition-Era Bartender.” You know the type. They roast their own beans, make their own almond milk, and serve everything with a side of disdain. It’s the kind of place where people sit with laptops but never seem to actually type anything.Now, I don’t fit in at this café. I wear jeans that don’t have a backstory, I don’t use words like “notes of citrus,” a...

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The Necklace

Meadow Hill

It was the kind of family heirloom that women of our family passed down as a form of tradition, like some mothers pass down recipes or the occasional perfect napkin fold. But my grandmother’s necklace wasn’t something that was casually tucked away in a drawer to be shown off at Christmas dinners, no. It was more sacred than that. It was the very essence of everything we were as women in our family—proud, resilient, and most of all, capable of wearing something a little too heavy for our necks, because, as my grandmother used to say, “It’s no...

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Fading Echoes

Meadow Hill

Fading EchoesMargaret sat in the cluttered attic of her childhood home, cradling an old photo album in her lap. The pages were yellowed with time, the images within blurred at the edges as if the memories themselves were beginning to dissolve. She traced her finger over the smiling faces of her parents, her younger self perched between them.Her chest tightened. She couldn’t remember the sound of her mother’s laugh anymore.Margaret had always feared obscurity, not in the grand sense of wanting fame, but in the quiet terror that her existence ...

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The Temporal Turbulence of Fredrick G. Plimpton

Meadow Hill

If there was ever a man less suited for time travel, it was Fredrick G. Plimpton, a mild-mannered insurance adjuster with a crippling fear of anything newer than a fax machine. And yet, through an incident that could only be described as a cosmic administrative error, Fredrick found himself catapulted 25 years into the past, specifically to the year 1998.The culprit was a vending machine. Not just any vending machine, mind you, but one of those newfangled "smart" ones installed at his office, the kind that offered kombucha alongside the more...

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Echo's Of A Lost Summer

Meadow Hill

I remember the smell of sun-dried grass, crisp and golden, as though it were yesterday. The way it crunched beneath my sneakers as I ran through the field—chasing nothing and everything all at once. That summer seemed endless then, a golden blur of light and laughter. Now, it feels like an ancient artifact, buried beneath years of silence and regret.The first time I met Sam, I was sitting at the edge of Hollow Creek, my bare feet submerged in the cool water. The world had gone quiet in that lazy way it does during the late afternoon. The cic...

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Countdown to the Millennium Apocalypse

Meadow Hill

The year was 1999, and the air buzzed with paranoia, like the office after Brenda microwaved fish. Everyone was panicking about Y2K, that cosmic reset button destined to send the world spiraling into chaos. Planes were allegedly going to drop from the sky. ATMs would spew cash like drunk frat boys on a Vegas weekend. Toasters would rebel. Or so my mother explained to me while holding a Costco-sized bundle of powdered milk.“This is survival food,” she said, cradling the cylindrical container like it was an infant. “In case the supply chains c...

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The Landline Lament

Meadow Hill

Ring, ring."Hello? Johnson residence, this is Marjorie speaking.""Marjorie! It’s Ruth. Did you just sit down? Because this is a doozy.""Oh, Ruth, every time you call, it’s a doozy. Hold on, let me park myself in the recliner. All right, go on. What happened?""Marjorie, you’ll never believe it. My son—you know, Darren? The one who thinks every gadget that beeps is a gift from the Almighty—he tried to replace my landline. Said it’s obsolete. Obsolete, Marjorie! Can you imagine?""Replace it? With what?""A cell phone! He called it a smartphone, ...

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Obsolete Technology Tale

Meadow Hill

In the shadowy gloom of an abandoned office building, I lie dormant, my once-proud visage caked in dust and disuse. I am a fax machine. Not just any fax machine, mind you. In my heyday, I was the Canon TurboFax 5000—a name that commanded respect and admiration. Oh, how the office staff once flocked to me, clutching their documents with trembling hands, their faces lit with the hopeful glow of technology’s promise. Now? I’m the punchline to jokes told by smug, wireless printers.My story begins long before my fall from grace, in a time when "b...

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The Street That Wasn’t There

Meadow Hill

It was a late September afternoon when Ava Mitchell stepped off the train at Crescent Junction. The familiar autumn air, crisp with the scent of fallen leaves, greeted her like an old friend. She tightened her scarf and glanced around, expecting to see the charming, sleepy town she had grown up in.But something felt... off.Crescent Junction had always been her safe haven, a picturesque place she thought of whenever city life became overwhelming. She could see the train station was the same—the weathered benches, the iron sign with its flakin...

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The Message in the Envelope

Meadow Hill

Evelyn Ross lived a quiet, predictable life in the small town of Marigold, a place where the clock seemed to tick slower than anywhere else. At 38, she worked at the local library, loved her cat Jasper, and had a penchant for organizing her bookshelves in rainbow order. Her days were uneventful, but she didn’t mind. It was safe, it was steady, and that was enough—or so she thought.One chilly Tuesday morning, Evelyn arrived at her mailbox, clutching a steaming cup of coffee. Her breath misted in the cold air as she flipped through the usual s...

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