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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Mar, 2022
Shortlisted for Contest #238 ⭐️
Eobald the Younger, formerly King of Tretovortania, pulled at his burlap robe to discreetly get at a particularly insistent shoulder itch. When he grunted, the abbot glared at him, and Eobald cast his eyes to the dirt path in shame. To his dirty, dirt endirted feet, covered in so much dirt and so little silk.“Be at peace, child,” said the abbot. His abbot now, because now the former king was a current Aspirant Listener of the Gentlest Wind. “The time will soon come. For now, comfort yourself with the sacred song of the swan.”As if on cue, on...
Submitted to Contest #237
It was a bit of a shock to see Sophie again at the door, on a Thursday evening during the pre-news sitcoms, because by all accounts she was quite dead. Peter Lander distinctly recalled kissing her passionately – bittersweetly, even, because it was their last kiss, and he knew it even if she didn’t – right before he blew her brains out with his Colt Python. He knew he was right because Eileen made a big fuss. “Why the hell did you kiss her?” “She’s my wife.” “Not anymore!” True. And given the insides of her skull confettied all over the livin...
Submitted to Contest #236
TW: bullying, high school. Craig’s terrier, Barkie, was the first to smell the fire. He loved the park’s main loop, but when he started pulling towards Jackdaw Hill and wouldn’t let up, Craig conceded and they climbed. The acrid stink of burn hit his nostrils and he narrowed his eyes. Technically you weren’t supposed to have any open fires, even if barbecue season was right around the corner.As they climbed the trampled path, worn by countless feet over the decades, and flanked on either side by bushes and trees, Barkie sniffed furiously and...
Submitted to Contest #235
Later that month, Harris Darrow would reflect that it was a turning point in his life, the key to a door he hadn’t realized he’d been looking for, a treatment, if not quite a cure, for the vague malaise that had been following him like a shadow since birth, but at the time he thought it was the end of the world when he got mugged. His date stood him up at the Gargantua Club, in Lowtown. Not his usual haunt. Not his usual neighbourhood. The vibe of the cracked bricks and littered streets, in the concrete shadow of the freeway above, didn’t me...
Submitted to Contest #234
“Hello?” “Yeah, hey kiddo, it’s me.” “Dad? Where are you calling from? I don’t recognize this number.” “Yeah, it’s not my phone. I’m in jail. Listen son, I–” “–Wait, what!? What do you mean you’re in jail!?” “Oh, it’s this whole big stupid thing. Anyway, I need you to wire some money–” “–Dad! Why are you in jail?” “Because of my damn sunscreen, that’s why. I guess it was too American for the locals and didn’t meet their commie quota.” “What are you even talking about? Your sunscreen? You’re not making any sense!” “Yeah, apparently they have ...
Submitted to Contest #233
Tom Davies stepped into the Harp and Hound Recopub, and was immediately struck by the bluesy bass rambling from a jukebox, accented by the staccato pops of a cue sending pool balls scrambling. The lighting was mute and dusky, even though it was noon; a perfect complement to the wooden floor, and walls draped with team colours. And a waft of deep fried bliss followed a passing waitress. Well, he thought. I wanted a bar, and you can’t get more barsy than this. And anyway, any dive was good enough refuge from Nicole. He approached a barstool an...
Submitted to Contest #232
Harry McMunn, Supreme Reverend, shook hands with Andrea List, clapped Ray Blackburn on the shoulder, and patted little Jimmy Nairn on the head. He traded a smile with all his congregation, finished his cup of punch, and started a familiar chorus of “Next time.” Then, when they began singing their favourite hymn, he excused himself and went outside the temple, before his heart completely broke. The cool night air shattered his composure, and he clutched his vestments to keep an unexpected sob from escaping. Walking the well maintained paths o...
Submitted to Contest #231
A hush fell over the Ecoburger Diner when old Smiley Rawlinson came out of the kitchen, glanced at the menu board, and then with one determined swipe of the blackboard eraser, removed the infamous “Mushroom Burger Surprise.” They would have started whispering about it if he didn’t also immediately start writing something new, and so instead the silence stretched as everyone craned their necks to see. Smiley stepped back and dusted his hands of chalk, and the patrons read what he set down. Melinda gasped. Artie raised his burly white brows. R...
Submitted to Contest #230
Log in to Windows. Wait for things to load. Wait more. Click HumanWrites icon. Double-click HumanWrites icon. Give it admin privileges. Give it camera privileges. Give it microphone privileges. Give it keylogging privileges. Give it mouse tracking privileges. Wait for it to connect. Wait for it to crash. Frown. Look online for help on crash. Find the official forums. Get swept up in forum drama. Witness Godwin’s Law in action. Find interesting but off-topic discussion. Follow link to Wikipedia. Click around. Stumble onto French rococo archit...
Submitted to Contest #229
Nick was certain the yellow bungalow was the right place, but he checked his crumpled note again – and then again – and swallowed a lump. It had only been a week since he last saw Darlene, but it felt like a lifetime ago. He straightened his tie, sniffed his bouquet of roses, and patted his box of chocolates. Then he walked up to the drain pipe, scampered onto the roof, and dove down the chimney. He rolled out the fireplace and right into the living room, where with a practiced kick and tuck, he somersaulted to standing, right in front of a ...
Submitted to Contest #228
Monica would never admit to hating her nephew and niece – except to her journal, her friends, her clients, her therapist, a god she may or may not have believed in, strangers at the bar, strangers on the bus, strangers in the night, and the internet at large. But she’d never admit it to her older brother. But as the younger sister, she was naturally their babysitter. “But I’m busy,” she said. “Nonsense!” said her brother. “You work from home.” “I have a deadline–” “And besides, you’re single and only getting older. You like kids.” “I – what!...
Submitted to Contest #227
George Salter came upon his eighth empty bus shelter, and sighed. The bench inside the Plexiglas enclosure looked so inviting, but he knew he’d never get up again if he sat down now, and the app on his phone told him the same thing it had told him at the other seven stops: “Bus delayed.” He huffed, wiped hoarfrost from his brow, and trudged around the next snowdrift – his baggage trundling ever behind him. Every step was half-jerk and half-stumble. The only things that kept him going were thoughts of the Riviera Maya, of the all-inclusive st...
Submitted to Contest #226
I wake up early and make coffee because it’s a big day for me and Lydia – it’s the day her old man finally has a date with a government bullet. Truth be told, I didn’t get much sleep. My gut’s been dizzy all month, thinking the nightmare was actually going to be over soon. And damn it! Guess I’m not great at making coffee either, as I forgot the carafe again and the machine’s dribbling all over the counter. “Heya handsome,” I hear from the doorway, just as I begin wiping up the soggy mess. It’s Lydia, in her nightgown, and she’s as gorgeous ...
Submitted to Contest #225
Amun Quetzalcoatl Baal Zeus Bridger, the richest man in the world – probably; it was difficult to get an accurate count of all the pies he was fingering – was not used to being dumped by text message. Indeed, he wasn’t used to any text messages that his family and friends weren’t contractually obligated to send. He handed his phone to his least unfavourite personal assistant, something-something Chen. “What’s that say?” Chen sprang into action and immediately hesitated, the message stopping him cold. “It says, ‘I’m dumping you.’” Amun nodded...
Submitted to Contest #224
The last thing Ren wanted to do was to pull another night shift, but Mr. Driedger politely reminded him about his outstanding debt, and how a payment was due, and “I’m sorry son, but we must all play by the rules,” so Ren parked his cab beside the terminal. He could never say no to Mr. Driedger – his money was the only reason Ren’s sister, Amanda, was still alive. He just prayed they wouldn’t need another surgery. He yawned. When he glanced at himself in the rear-view mirror, all he saw was eye bags and sallow skin. When was the la...
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