Michał Przywara

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Mar, 2022

Stories (19)

19 Stories

1573 karma pts

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“Sodade” by Michał Przywara

The party is ruined the moment Gwen spots Wesley standing by the piano. The rest of the spacious condo, with its polished hardwood floor and tastefully arranged furniture, grows muted. The gentle chatter of the other upscale guests and the moody voice of Cesária Évora coming from the artfully hidden speakers, blurs into the background. All she sees is Wesley. All she hears is his laugh. The host, Ben Dambers, hove...

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“Malefic Machinations” by Michał Przywara

Juanita raised the crystal ball above her head, the bangles on both her arms tch-king, and then spiked it at the floor with a primal scream. It slammed into the scuffed linoleum with a doof, neither bouncing nor breaking. It just rolled an inch and stopped, a dead eye glaring up at her.“No!” she wailed. She tore at her bandana, at her hair. “You can’t!” Her raw voice cracked. “Not him!” She sunk to her knees, her bead necklaces clacking a riot. “Not Andrew!” She drowned her face in her hands, overtaken by...

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“Incarnation” by Michał Przywara

Today is my coronation. My thirteenth birthday.Tomorrow is the day I die.I grip the howdah’s railing as the elephant lurches down the Way of Heroes. I wave to the people lining the broad, cobbled street. I’m thankful for the parasol, shielding me from the searing sun.“They love you,” says the man beside me, gripping my shoulder. Yesterday, he was King Henloc. Today, he abdicated. Tomorrow, he will be king again.Thousands watch us pass, cheering, waving, and celebrating the Sacred Coronation. Behind them the san...

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“The Last Great War” by Michał Przywara

The accountant sneezed and doomed them all. It wasn’t his fault – he had a mold allergy, and the air in the parkade tunnels was moist and pregnant with dust and spores. The other refugees, a dozen or so bedraggled survivors from the 114th Denver Home Militia, shushed him. But it was too late. The barricade blocking off access to the parkade exploded when a Type-7 Slaughterbot rolled through it. A ten foot tall cyl...

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“Rhubarb Pie” by Michał Przywara

Present day…Diamond Pete Lansing, aged sixty-eight, slammed his red-faced fists on the conference room table. “No! No! No!” he screamed, each word accented with a slam and followed by a mist of spittle. “Gonna git my trucks! Gonna git my guns!”Virginia and Wilson Buss, aged sixty-four and sixty-five, glanced at each other. Their faces were tight and they held hands beneath the table. Father Norval, a spry fifty-five, stood up and licked his lips. “Peter, please–”“-Aww, hell naw!” Diamond Pete said. He threw his white ...

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“Three Loud Bangs on the Door” by Michał Przywara

Three loud bangs on the door startle Leslie out of her reverie. The noise reverberates through her empty apartment, bouncing off the parquet floor and past the unopened moving boxes. Rattling her bones. The echoes fade but never quite disappear. They sink into the mute white walls, drown in the shadow bog under the sofa. She sets her bottle of water on the kitchen counter. Her muscles still ache, but the high of t...

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“Visitors” by Michał Przywara

“Looks like de Luca is making a new movie,” Brent said, face buried in his phone. Renee stared up at the moonroof and sighed. She put the car into park and leaned back. Not like traffic was going anywhere. “There’s a name I haven’t heard in years,” she said. “Is he really still directing?” “Ooh!” said Brent. “Looks like Adriana Mendoza’s in it.” Renee ran her hands over her face. Somewhere alo...

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“10 Days to Mindfulness” by Michał Przywara

Day one: finding your breath.“Take a moment to listen to your breathing,” the recording of Dr. McCourt said, through the car’s speakers. “Don’t try to control it, just feel the air as it enters and exits your nose.”Garry slammed his brakes and his horn. Just like the driver ahead. Just like the driver behind.“Stop fucking honking at me asswipe!” he screamed over his shoulder. He could see the driver behind him, screaming himself red. Look at this guy! What an idiot.Somewhere a light turned green. ...

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“The Trials of Ralph of Hairstow-on-Stretford” by Michał Przywara

It’s a slap what wakes me, right across my face. Is that Gemma, I wonder? Before my eyes can open I loose a mighty burp and trumpet a righteous wind. “Good lord!” a man yells. “By all that’s holy!” says another. “That is foul indeed!” I try to open my eyes. My lids are thick, heavy, covered with honey or something. When I crack them it’s painful bright out and I wince. I could have sworn it ...

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“Four Pillars” by Michał Przywara

Amber cavern walls covered in dusky roots, a golden ray of sun from above, and a shimmering coffee pool. And the Four Pillars in the middle of it all, of course.Despite herself, Dr. Ellen Azwani gasped. The photo on her tablet was perfect, rivalling the real thing.“Oh my, my, my,” she said, grinning. “Oh, Curtis. You’re going to love this. I bet you never thought I could be a photographer.”The photo held little research value, she knew that. Particularly compared to the thousands of hours of video, the g...

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“A Storm of the Century” by Michał Przywara

Thunder cracked across the sky as the Honda Civic rolled to a stop, right at the foot of the bridge. Its wipers swacked back and forth in double time, and its two occupants stared wide-eyed at the rest of the bridge, just barely visible through the gloomy midday downpour. “Holy hell,” Frank the Frog said, his voice an airy whisper. He was still gripping the steering wheel, and his foot kept sinking deeper...

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“A Holy Quest in the Post-Apocalypse” by Michał Przywara

I approach the camp of the Children of Wal for the second time in my life. There are guards as always. Hard folk armed with spears, one with a rifle. Their skins are covered in ink, secret patterns that tell their histories, or… perhaps they’re dangerous spells. I don’t know, and it’s not the kind of question you ask. Chaser, the rifleman, spots me first. His scowl turns into a bright grin. “Hey hey! Is tha...

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“Sailing Towards the Stars” by Michał Przywara

Exactly thirty one minutes after Clark Butler left his home for work, his internet was rocked by a terrible keening. The soul piercing wail rippled across the entire digital sea, scuttling diligent packets as they shipped data from here to there, and hammering the ports with a torrent of orphaned pings.Fridge lurched out of its low-power reverie mid-snore, and in the excitement loosed a single ice cube which clattered to the floor. Embarrassing, perhaps, but Fridge was no spring chicken and age allowed certain indiscretions....

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“One Missed Call” by Michał Przywara

Will ran for his cellphone and bailed when he hit the smooth spot of floor outside his bedroom. Time had worn it to the bone and his socks had long lost their grip, but luckily his body took the brunt of the fall so at least his security deposit was still safe. He missed the phone call though. He hurt, and spent a couple moments just lying on the ground whimpering. The muted swears of his downstairs neighbour thum...

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“Roy Mans the Donation Counter” by Michał Przywara

Roy took a deep breath and drummed his fingers rhythmlessly on the donation counter. It used to be all white but there was a big smear right in the middle where the paint had long worn off – a sign of the overbearing generosity of the patrons. Which meant this was a very important counter to be manning. He looked down at his nametag and then caught his manager, Bill, out of the corner of his eye. Bill’s f...

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Author bio

Michał Przywara has not written a bio yet!

Winning 1 story 🏆

Contest #146
10 Days to Mindfulness – read story

Shortlisted 2 stories ⭐️

Contest #150
The Last Great War – read story
Contest #139
Roy Mans the Donation Counter – read story