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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Feb, 2022
Lacing his thumbs in his vest over his ample grith, Terra Nova’s ambassador, Alek Ivanov, paces in front of the desk of Prime Minister Rixon Windgrave. “These three individuals have been designated war criminals,” Alek says. “Their convictions will show the citizens of Terra Nova that their type of violence will not be tolerated in your government’s new order.” “That’s why I want the war trials held in T...
“What’ll it be? New York? London? Maybe that little cottage you two rented in Montauk the second year you were married?” Joshua asks enthusiastically. “Bristol, Rhode Island,” Tucker Tiempo replies. Joshua crosses his arms over his Giorgio Armani suit. “Again? You have so many wonderful memories. You only have one trip left and you choose to relive the moment you met your wife in college – for the tenth ...
“I came as quickly as I could. I’m really sorry.” Cotton Clayborne looks up at Kirk Chapman, his eyes hollow with worry and fear. Clayborne hooks his thumbs in his bib overalls, shifting his oil-stained CAT cap. “You know I want to help, Kirk. I’m a patriot and a veteran like you, and I want to win the war against Zirconia. But she’s a threat to the safety of my family, and that goes beyond the ...
“Roll the carpet to your left… Your other left…” “This guy’s a real porker, Johnny, who is he?” “Pasquale Pappalardi, also known as Fat Pat. One of Salvatore Manera’s top enforcers.” “We bagged him too easy.” “Most men don’t carry guns in the shower, Dante.” “So, the war over control of the Bronx has begun and we drew first blood. Nice.” “Did you pick up the spent shells?”...
Ty Foxx’s father, Jimmy, greets him at the door with open arms. Ty is a bit surprised because his mother is normally the touchy-feely parent. “How’s my boy?” Jimmy asks enthusiastically. He continues to hold his son close as Ty turns around to say hello to his mother, Dorian. Dorian’s features turn crimson, and she’s barely able to look her twelve-year-old boy in the eye. “Did you have a...
Dell Creason looks around the infield, focusing on Hobey Clarke, his third baseman. He intuitively knows that in 1974, only four years away, Hobey will die in a skiing accident. Dell wants to tell him, but he believes nothing can change Hobey’s destiny. Dell goes into his windup, striking out his eleventh batter. The crowd cheers, responding to his pitching a no-hitter and a perfect game as well, someth...
“Man, even the I.R.S. would laugh at my bank account,” Casey Cassidy laments as he checks The Mean Fiddler’s receipts for a second time. The forty-three-year-old restaurant owner runs his hand through his generous mop of dark hair, worrying how much longer it will be before it starts falling out. Wiping his sauce-covered hands on his smock, Cisco Soto comes out of the kitchen. The wall-eyed cook looks at Casey a...
The slot machines seem to clang “goodbye, sucker” in unison as Chick Goldsby stumbles toward the casino’s exit. He nearly plows into a cocktail waitress. The stunning blonde gives him a bright smile, saying, “Tough night?” “The house always wins.” Reaching into her costume, the waitress hands him a silver dollar. “It’s lucky. It helps make empty lives worth living.” “Great, I’ve l...
The annoying ring of the telephone stirs Vanessa Akin from her sleep. She curses under her breath as her husband, Trey, rolls over, groaning. “Well, are you going to get that?” she asks. “You know it’s for you.” Trey reaches for the phone, nearly knocking it off the end table. Smiling apologetically at Vanessa, he wonders when she’d cut her luxurious midnight black hair into a bob or when the circles und...
Town of Torrington Wyoming Territory 1882 Gower Gaston races down the sidewalk, his boots clomping against the sidewalk’s wooden planks, his spurs jingling out a frenzied beat. Rushing through the door of the Marshal’s office, the tousle-haired young deputy points at the cover of his dime novel shouting, “It’s him! It’s The Preacher!” Marshal Myles G...
Rita Jones balls her fist up, shaking it at her husband of twenty years, catcher Roosevelt “Roadblock” Jones. “YOU PROMISED!” “This is the year we’re gonna win the pennant, honey. I can feel it.” With a deep voice like a foghorn, Roadblock is a thickly muscled, thirty-eight-year-old black man with ruddy, scarred features, and bad knees. The veteran backstop earned his nickname by brushing off vio...
“Whooo hooo!” Mark Malarky exclaims, the six vodka tonics in his system making his feet lighter than air. The well-dressed bank loan officer nearly stumbles into a petite, bundled up woman staffing a Salvation Army red kettle. She rings her bell loudly next to his ear. “Must you do that?” “Just making sure you’re awake, buddy. You almost crashed into my kettle.” “Heaven forb...
Connor Crosswhite flashes a toothy grin as he passes Hattie the receptionist, who puffs up her posture hoping the rock god will notice her. Whipping off his sunglasses, the tanned, trim, thirty-three-year-old Brit-born lead singer of the band THC breezes into Rollin’ Records’ conference room like a swashbuckling pirate. “Well, if it ain’t his nibs,” Amp Steele, the group’s bass player teases. “How’re thi...
Colette, Calisto’s seventeen-year-old apprentice, straddles Mazie, Castle Hogue’s prize pig. “Hold her steady,” the young magician says, waving a bowl in front of Mazie. Grunting, the oversized pig licks at the contents of the bowl. “All right, release her.” Colette steps away from Mazie, giggling as the pig wanders drunkenly around her pen. “Looks like your potion packs a punch,” the att...
Blake Best skillfully spoons a hefty portion of scrambled eggs onto a veteran’s plate. “Thank you for that.” “What?” “Giving me a little extra.” “You look like you could use it today, Terry,” Blake says. “You keeping up with your appointments?” “Yes, sir. I go to an AA meeting every afternoon. Tomorrow I’m goin’ for my glasses. Thanks again for settin’ that up. You’re a good man,...
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