Megan DeRouin

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Nov, 2019

Stories (35)

35 Stories

736 karma pts

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“The Devil is in the Details” by Megan DeRouin

Submitted to Contest #263

“You have one of those faces you know.” “What?” The young man gasped out, his eyebrows raising behind a mop of dirty blonde hair. His was a handsome kind of face. Easy smile that crinkled those honest blue eyes. He looked young, but they always sent them young. The older ones were too smart, too wary or worldly to come anymore. “The kind of face that…” I paused and ran a finger over his full lips, drawn into a scowl as he tried to shift out of reach only to find the silk at his wrists didn’t go that far. “People trust.” It was a poor descrip...

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“Penny for your Thoughts” by Megan DeRouin

Submitted to Contest #203

Penny for your Thoughts  There was the sensation of falling, but not the type of falling that was only a slight drop in your stomach before the ground came roughly up to meet parts of your body you’d have preferred to remain out of the dirt. No, this was falling that felt like flying, like there was this infinitesimal moment when you could forget that gravity applied to you. Everything seemed to be happing frame by frame. Each second dragged out into minutes, perhaps hours as my brain dashed thoughts together was no clear direction. ...

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“The Piper's Due” by Megan DeRouin

Submitted to Contest #186

Today I feel. Like my heart is a bird and my chest is a cage of bone. I feel like my heart is beating itself bloody against the wall of ribs and I’m gasping from the pain of it, but I cannot stop. Trapped. The word is trapped. I’m trapped as the world spins around and around, around me. Everything is too bright, too loud, too much. Don’t be stupid, you can’t write something like that. Someone is going to think you’re crazy…or at least more insane that they already think you are. Mom was right, you have to keep yourself to yourself, don’t bit...

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“Zero, Zero, One” by Megan DeRouin

Submitted to Contest #150

Zero, Zero, One“Please…don’t.” She begged, “Don’t do this.” Her voice cracked as her hand reached out and stopped just short of touching me. “Please, I can make it work, I just need more time.”More time, more time was all they ever asked for. It was never the thing I could give them.“SAI is so close. So close, just a few more weeks and I’m sure I can make it do what Mr. Simmons needs it to do. Please, Jack are you even listening to me?”“I’m sorry Isla, but it’s over.” I said my voice didn’t waver, didn’t stray from that careful cadence of co...

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“Still Morning” by Megan DeRouin

Submitted to Contest #121

Still MorningThe birds always trilled the song of morning during the spring and summer, but during the fall and winter even they would fade into the silence that hung over Our Lady of Mercy Cemetery. It had always been a small cemetery, with a pond in the back corner and a tract of protected land to the left. The wrought iron fence that faced the street had long since been overrun with vines and scrub-brush. No one was buried anymore in Our Lady of Mercy, it was too full and had been for nearly a hundred years. The residents seemed to like i...

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“Born of Water” by Megan DeRouin

Submitted to Contest #106

Born of Water I remembered the day the merfolk surfaced. I remembered what I was doing, what I was wearing and what I had been eating in that stuffy little diner absently watching the local college football game on TV. I wasn’t a local, I was just passing through, eighteen years old, fresh out of high school and driving across the country thinking that maybe along the way I could find myself. I was watching the game for lack of anything better to stare at, absently picking at my onion rings and I remember thinking that they were a bit too ...

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“Fire in the Sky” by Megan DeRouin

Submitted to Contest #103

Fire in the Sky “It’s you!” The voice said behind me and I resisted the almost insurmountable urge to turn around. “Hey! You ginger.” Okay, now I knew he was talking about me and he was going to get an earful for using that slur. I was not being dramatic Mom, the use of the term ginger when hurled at a person with red hair was derogatory. I didn’t have to take something like that laying down. I didn’t have to smile and batt my red lashes and wait for them to comment on how freckled my skin was or ask if I had a soul or not. Please. This...

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“What is Truth” by Megan DeRouin

Submitted to Contest #89

What is Truth Kathrine St John looked at the photograph that was blown up to twice life-size showing only the head of another old woman with a placid look to her face and empty blue eyes. Kat’s gaze drifted forward past the line of black clade people with heads bowed and sobbing quietly to where the handsome oak casket sat stoically in front of the room. She knew what she would see when she looked into the casket. The line shuffled forward and Kat’s eyes moved again to the three middle aged siblings standing stiffly beside the casket, numbl...

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“Eye of the Raging Storm” by Megan DeRouin

Submitted to Contest #83

Eye of the Raging Storm           The melody she sang was so hauntingly beautiful that it entranced the waves. They crashed against the shore desperate for her. They longed to reach her and drag her into their embrace, but they knew she was a creature of the sky and that to do so would doom her. The waves wept with sorrow as she sang, the rain splashed against the tin roof of her dwelling and the wind pulled restlessly at her shutters. Still she sang, oblivious to the torment she caused....

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“The Silent Partner” by Megan DeRouin

Submitted to Contest #76

The Silent Partner     “Okay, let’s start with something easy. What’s your name?” Aberdeen asked it with faked sincerity as she leaned forward bringing her elbows up onto the table, drawing her face closer. The man across from her lifted his eyes only as high as her mouth, “Winston Churchill.” “Really? Winston Churchill. That was the best you could come up with?” Church shrugged, “What can I say, you’d be better off taking it up with my mother.” The corners of Aberdeen’s mouth drew into a frown, she leaned back a...

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“Exercise in Futility” by Megan DeRouin

Submitted to Contest #72

Exercise in FutilityI stood in line with all the other Drainers. I had my hands clenched into fists at my sides, my dirty, bitten fingernails cut into my palms as I watched the knights patrolling the ramparts above us. Their metal faces were blank and expressionless. My stomach quivered as the line slowly shuffled forward.Everyone from the Ghettos was drained once in their life. After that we got to live on the other side of the wall where we were happy. You were assigned and lived in bliss, all the propaganda said so. I should have relished...

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“Forged in Fire” by Megan DeRouin

Submitted to Contest #65

Forged in Fire            I knocked on Blake’s door, dancing back and forth from foot to foot and silently cursing myself for not bringing a jacket. The last day in October was cold in Massachusetts this year. Blake swung the door to his bookshop open and cracked a smile that to me looked quite comical considering the cotton ball beard and pointy hat he was wearing that matched perfectly with his royal blue with yellow star robes. “You look dashing.” I told him as he let me in and cl...

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“Thread of Destiny” by Megan DeRouin

Submitted to Contest #58

Thread of Destiny            I have always hated elevators. It goes without saying really that being suspended in a metal box in an open shaft gave me a distinct feeling of vertigo whenever I was inclined by social pressure to ride in the death traps. I hated the feeling of that little jerk right at the beginning when the cab first started to move and then the counting beeps that signified just how fast the floors were passing by. I hated the little bounce whenever someone got on or off....

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“Ruins of Rome” by Megan DeRouin

Submitted to Contest #55

Ruins of Rome           I had imagined that dying would be so much more dramatic. Like you would die and then there would be this bright light that would invite you to heaven and you’d get to see everyone you loved and lost. That’s what I signed up for, not this.           I woke up like normal, rising from my bed and listening to my neighbors shouting at each other through the thin walls. They had what was classically a love/hate re...

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“The Cup on the Counter” by Megan DeRouin

Submitted to Contest #51

The Cup on the Counter           The mug sat on the counter by the sink. There was a faded ring of lipstick on one side. Mold had started to grow in the dregs of coffee left behind. There was a picture on the cup, it was a shot of the Eifel Tower at night and below it read in half chipped letters ‘With Love from Paris.’ The handle showed the scar of when it had been dropped on the ground and lovingly glued back together. The cup had been cleaned so many times that it had become a coffee ...

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Author bio

Hi Everyone, Thank you for stopping by. I confess I am really bad about answering comments, but I do appreciate the time of everyone reading my work. I write for the joy of writing, but life isn't always about following your joy. Sometimes (most times) there isn't enough time in a day, but I love to know what everyone thinks and really enjoy writing for you all here.

Shortlisted 1 story ⭐️

Contest #42
Shadow of a Doubt – read story