Meryl Sigaton

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jan, 2020

Stories (4)

4 Stories

49 karma pts

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“Novel Transit” by Meryl Sigaton

Submitted to Contest #30

Synchronized whirring and creaking of the metal and the gears in the shafts and motor down below, steam slowly fading past my window. The train was at constant speed blazing through the plush countryside, just a little past the city. “Ah, seconds and seconds more… the closer I am to my dear Rosalie. And yet time is merely a concept of the mind”, I muttered as I looked out the glass. “Why not some crisp morning air…” I said to myself, enticed by the tall green grass and fresh cerulean skies. A cool gentle breeze calms my senses and I catch a ...

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“Novel Transit” by Meryl Sigaton

Submitted to Contest #27

Synchronized whirring and creaking of the metal and the gears in the shafts and motor down below, steam slowly fading past my window. The train was at constant speed blazing through the plush countryside, just a little past the city. “Ah, seconds and seconds more… the closer I am to my dear Rosalie. And yet time is merely a concept of the mind”, I muttered as I looked out the glass. “Why not some crisp morning air…” I said to myself, enticed by the tall green grass and fresh cerulean skies. A cool gentle breeze calms my senses and I catch a ...

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“Novel Transit” by Meryl Sigaton

Submitted to Contest #27

Synchronized whirring and creaking of the metal and the gears in the shafts and motor down below, steam slowly fading past my window. The train was at constant speed blazing through the plush countryside, just a little past the city. “Ah, seconds and seconds more… the closer I am to my dear Rosalie. And yet time is merely a concept of the mind”, I muttered as I looked out the glass. “Why not some crisp morning air…” I said to myself, enticed by the tall green grass and fresh cerulean skies. A cool gentle breeze calms my senses and I catch a ...

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“Curtains” by Meryl Sigaton

Submitted to Contest #26

Curtains were dancing with the breeze, puddles outside were glimmering in the afternoon sun. It was naptime and after lunch. I was sprawled on our wooden floor surrounded with white sheets and stuffed animals. Whirring can be heard from the medium-speed fan on the table top across me, accompanied with the rich melodious tinge of a harmonica. I stared at the ceiling enjoying every note from my brother who was preoccupied with the small metallic box he touched upon his lips. This would go on for hours on end that I’d eventually fall back to sl...

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Author bio

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