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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Feb, 2022
Submitted to Contest #280
“There’s a fire in the woods, Matt.”“So, call the fire department.”“It’s not that kinda fire. It’s a bonfire. Disengage your lips from your can of beer for five seconds and come take a look. Someone’s trespassing on our property.” ***“This is cool, Bo.”“It’s gonna g...
Submitted to Contest #279
King Louis leans out of his carriage to get a better look at the carnage. Dozens of Naxon soldier’s corpses hang from poles erected along the ruddy, war-torn road. King Louis pinches his nose to lessen the stench of rotting flesh. “Is this your work, General Pendre?” The bulky general with a scar on his left cheek strokes his pointed beard. “We needed to intimidate the enemy. The Naxons were very determined, fearless warriors. To break the spirit of a barbarian, you have to act like one.” The King and his three generals ride in silence for s...
Submitted to Contest #278
Content Warning: This story contains racial slurs, violence, ethnic stereotypes, depictions of racial discrimination, and historical references to segregation.February 1945A mariachi band plays a slightly off-key version of the Mexican national anthem. Vendors hawk local delicacies at concession stands, and the fans cheer when the Monterrey Industriales take the field.Fifty-two-year-old Uriah “Snooky” Fallon, a scout for the Washington Senators, wipes the sweat from his brow. Short and sleight, Falon is nicknamed Snooky because of his abilit...
Submitted to Contest #277
“I’m home, Electra. I picked up that generator you wanted,” Agent Ellis Eaton yells. Ellis looks around the kitchen. Battered pots and pans litter the floor. The refrigerator door has been ripped off its hinges. Torn photographs are scattered like confetti. Electra’s copper bracelet lies abandoned on the kitchen table alongside a note. Ellis, Love was the energy that gave us the strength to battle against the storm seeking to drive us apart. Now, my heart, like the storm, has broken. Ellis hurriedly dials his partner's number at the ...
Submitted to Contest #276
In my early twenties, I developed a talent for avoiding adult relationships in favor of having fun. My relationship with Kacey Jones (yeah, her parents were real comedians) was the zenith of my good-time Charlie way of life. Kacey was part of a group of party girls of all sizes, shapes, ages, and nationalities who came to the park to watch our softball games. We dubbed our cheerleaders the Pound Ridge Comedy. Kacey was my favorite, a 4’ 11” pneumatic blonde who wore nothing and blissfully knew nothing. She was a cutie in a constant st...
Submitted to Contest #275
John F. Kennedy, the spaceship Emerald’s AI, reviews the mission’s astral chart with the crew. “Er-ah, we have passed Gehenna, a habitable planet that was ultimately rejected for exploration by the United Terran Government because it has a surface atmosphere of 822 degrees Fahrenheit, which can boil a human being’s blood in seconds…” John highlights the next planet on the screen, continuing to speak in his clipped Boston accent. “Er -ah, within the hour, we’ll pass Exidor, where temperatures average two hundred degrees below zero and life, w...
Submitted to Contest #274
Edie shivers in her fitful sleep as fog swirls around the basement steps. The mist creeps closer, pulling at her, trying to coax her downstairs. Edie wakes up in a cold sweat before the swirling fog reaches the top of the steps. She always does. *** Hearing Edie’s...
Submitted to Contest #273
A well-dressed man with chiseled features carrying a leather briefcase eases into the lobby of the Collinwood Building. Flashing a business card, he smiles congenially at Lon Lynch, the husky security guard quaffing a Big Mac at the front desk. “Hmm. Falstaff Advertising. I’ve heard of being a good employee, but you’re going the extra mile,” Lon jokes. “Your office won’t be open for another two months. In fact, none of the offices are open yet.” The man sets his briefcase down next to the desk and asks, in a refined tone, “How many people ar...
Submitted to Contest #272
“This is the most bizarre assignment yet,” Dawn DeSica, a top agent with the Extraordinary Bureau of Investigation, says. “We’ve been picked to take the devil to the United Nations so he can negotiate a peace with the world's leaders.” “Easier said than done,” her partner, Agent Heath Hunter, replies. “You can’t make a deal with the devil,” Dawn insists. Heath and Dawn have been partners for eight years. They’ve proven the rumors of Paul McCartney’s death in 1966 were true and that a robot replaced him; they’ve tracked the Loch Ness Monster,...
Submitted to Contest #271
Hearing the clicking of high heels, Raphael looks up from his drink, muttering, “Uh-oh.” Enthralled by the woman’s strikingly red hair, piercing green eyes, and dangerous curves, Happy Hopkins, Green Chimney’s bartender, lets out an admiring “Uh-huh” as she thunders toward Raphael. “How about a drink on the house for my future wife?” Happy asks. “How about a kick in the groin and a call to your present wife?” the woman responds. “I’ll take Tara’s drink,” Raphael slurs. “You’ve had enough. You know our systems can’t process alcohol.” Tara loo...
Submitted to Contest #270
An orange flame reflects in Ross Remington’s protective goggles as he solders the wires connecting the AI’s head to its torso. Noticing the beads of sweat forming on Ross’s forehead, Ruth says, “I’ll take over,” grabbing the soldering gun from her husband’s hand. Rex, their previous attempt at creating a sentient being, leans over the operating table. “Stand back, Rex. I don’t want a spark to hit you,” Ruth says. “When you caught fire, it nearly destroyed you. So, remember, ‘fire bad.’” “I don’t think he gets the Frankenstein reference,” Ros...
Submitted to Contest #269
Kickapoo, Kansas1882 Kickapoo was a booming town with a bright future, thanks to a silver strike. That future was dimmed four months ago when three outlaws rode into town. What Blade Barker, Bryce Bader, and Misty Morgan didn’t steal, drink, or eat, they destroyed. Thriving off the townspeople’s lack of resistance, the trio took up permanent residence in the High Noon Saloon. When outlaw Grizzly Grant heard the bank was unguarded, he and his gang rode in, taking $25,000. Barker didn’t object. If there was one person in Kansas who was meaner...
Submitted to Contest #268
Bartender Viggo Rosemenko dabs club soda on the sleeve of his peasant shirt, hoping to clean a tomato juice stain. “The Three Stooges are back again? That’s four times this week. Why don’t you just give them punch cards? It’s two thirty. When are they gonna leave?” Remy Royce, the owner of the Last Call Lounge, shakes his head, replying, “You don’t tell Baby Doll Crosetti when to leave.” “With a name like Baby Doll, somebody should be rockin’ him to sleep,” Viggo replies. “You tell him that, and he’ll put you to sleep for good.” “And that bo...
Submitted to Contest #267
Evan Canberra pulls his cap down, staring at the black sky ahead. “I thought this was supposed to be a squall.” Connor Lynn wipes the rain off his face. “So, the weather report was wrong. What a surprise.” Evan watches the two tugboats pulling the battleship Goliath bob in the water like kids’ toys in a tub. The forty-four-year-old ex-merchant seaman rubs his beard, worried the ancient ship will sink and his commission will disappear. Connor leaves the bridge wing, and Evan follows, shaking the rain from his slicker as they enter the bridge....
Submitted to Contest #266
The backhoe tears at the earth, digging up rich, brown soil. “You’d better come up with something, Cliff… And soon,” Randall warns. Schooled at Cambridge in England, reed-thin, bi-racial Randall Fakir Raheem speaks four languages. As the King’s Counsellor of State and liaison for the Valley of the Dead Excavation Project, Randall has developed a fascination with native folklore. Small in stature with a prevailing roguish smile, Cliff Romer often gets away with his mistakes because he resembles a carefree leprechaun. Cliff calls himself an id...
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