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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Mar, 2022
Submitted to Contest #178
CW: sacrilege/irreverence.The snowstorm raged outside the little cottage, and a smaller storm raged within. The wife saw her husband rooted in his faded green armchair, glowering at the roaring fire. At his right hand stood a small table with a glass full of amber whisky. On the floor lay a half-filled bottle, and another beside it – empty.She knew better than to disturb him on this night but it still took all her effort not to step in and say something.The kids will call when they call, she might have said, and he’d grunt, Ingrates.The peop...
Submitted to Contest #177
Wally wiped a fingerprint off his plaque with his monogrammed handkerchief. He couldn’t blame others for pawing at his award, for it truly was glorious: Employee of the Month, East-Northeast Sales Division 03, Town of Franklin, March 2020. Fitting recognition for his instrumental role in securing a partnership with the Mexicans. That the Mexican partners went under right after could hardly be blamed on him. He took a step back, and it struck him how his plaque was a lonely beacon of hope, a single glimmer of fame on a wall, otherwise, of sha...
Submitted to Contest #176
They followed Agatha into the woods, with the last light of summer warding them from the threat of September. Nina endlessly ran her tongue along her new braces, still unable to get used to their feel. Rick huffed as he shambled, balancing the awkward one-legged wooden table under one arm, and the big brass bowl under the other. Dennis frowned and kept glancing over his shoulder, certain he had heard rustling in the foliage. Katie hugged herself and shivered, even though it was still warm enough to be called a warm day.And Agatha marched wit...
Submitted to Contest #175
Trandelomacus heard a commotion outside his prison door. He stepped away from his balcony, and the idyllic view of the rolling hills and lazy sheep on a fine summer’s day, and sighed. Outside the door, he heard the dull jangle of heavy keys accented by the pitched squawking of angry politicians. The iron-bound wooden door lumbered open with a groan. There was Hubert, the one soldier in town and his jailer and constant companion – and behind him was a crowd of aldermen. They were red-faced and growling, all struggling to fit through the doorw...
Shortlisted for Contest #174 ⭐️
Android Jim dashed out of his lab and made his way to the water cooler, where all fifty-seven of the other employees were congregating. They buzzed with laughter, and everyone wore party hats, smoked cigars, and drank champagne. Everyone but Android Jim.“Android Jim!” shouted CEO Yamagawa. The others cheered, and the accounting department blew noisemakers.“Android Jim!” shouted VP Pharmaceuticals McCain. “Your cure for hypercancer works flawlessly! It saved millions of lives!” Again everyone cheered. “More importantly, it’s made all of us mi...
Submitted to Contest #173
You hand me a book I cannot read. There’s a wooden spoon on the cover, and though the language on it – your language – is impenetrable to me, I know this is a cookbook. The paper is jaundiced and brittle and the spine is bent, like yours, and loose sheets spill from between the pages like the stuffing of a disembowelled teddy bear. What could I possibly do with this book?“It belonged to my mother,” you tell me. Again. This story I know, as you’ve told it many times. It was your mother’s, and the only thing of hers you still have. The mother ...
Shortlisted for Contest #172 ⭐️
Moira put on her apron, signed in to her register, and prepared for the least busy day of the year. Her heart thrilled because she was finally old enough to participate in this most sacred of secular events. A moment later the doors opened and the customers started trickling in. The first one up at her counter was an old man in a parka, perpetually rubbing his hands.“Welcome to McDemocracy’s. Can I take your order?” Moira asked, beaming at him.“Yes, hello,” he said with an earnest grin. “I’m really hankering something, but I’m not sure what....
Submitted to Contest #171
Brett gasped when they got to the top of the hill. He saw the entire valley, filled with stoic evergreens, severe rock formations, and the sparkling lake. And there in the sky, to welcome them, a vulture which he mistook for an eagle. He was so moved he immediately turned around and took a selfie.“Oh my god!” Brett said. “Isn’t this place amazing!?”Chuck swatted a mosquito, and then another one. He grabbed ahold of his shorts and jerked them around, and then buried his hands in them to better adjust his boxers. He grimaced at all the sweat, ...
Submitted to Contest #170
“I’ve got a plan.” Those were the words that doomed Guiscard Lescot, just two days ago.He reached for the next branch and pulled himself higher up the tree, sweat cascading down his face. Not only did it sting his eyes, his stupid chapel de fer kept sliding down too, making it impossible to see. When he finally wedged himself between two branches he took a breather and adjusted his helmet. His whole body was on fire and his heart stampeded in his chest – worse even than when he faced a cavalry charge on foot.Two days was all it took for him ...
Submitted to Contest #169
Shelby the rat skidded to a stop on the dew-slick grass when she saw a black cat. No, not just a black cat, but the jet black cat Jack, an insufferably arrogant cat that only ever ate, lounged, disdained, and occasionally partook in his sole hobby – mousing. And he was a savage mouser.Hallowe’en was without a doubt the worst day of the year, and this one was already shaping up to break records. Of course, the stupid shindig yesterday wasn’t much better. Shelby knew better than to spend all night partying, but in her defence Ramón was there, ...
Submitted to Contest #168
+371 daysThe key to the case was the distraught old man with the cabbie hat and the bouquet of roses – but Detective Ben Rainer didn’t realize it until long after he was no longer a detective.“Let it go, Ben,” said Laszlo, his onetime partner, over the phone. “It’s been a year. What do you even want out of it?”Ben cradled his cell against his shoulder and rifled through the papers strewn on his kitchen table until he found one with some free space. He grabbed a pen too.“I want the truth,” he said. “All I need is a name.” He clicked his pen. ...
Submitted to Contest #167
Everything went downhill after I murdered Vic Tornado, and then it all got worse when he came back to life.I’m reminded of it every time I see that dunce’s name, like right now, fluttering on a banner across the street. They’re opening the Hilldale Mall today, with an old-fashioned ribbon cutting ceremony. “With Special Guest: Vic Tornado!” the banner reads. I bet the audience didn’t know that. I bet they came here expecting to see a spectacle, and they got hoodwinked at the last moment, saddled with the likes of Vic. I can’t help but sigh. ...
Submitted to Contest #166
After what felt exactly like one-thousand-four-hundred-and-eighty-five years, Arthur was finally beginning to suspect he wouldn’t be needed any more, and that they could all retire just like his men wanted. But just then, the old stone door covering the cave entrance slid open, and they saw a figure silhouetted by the glory of the daylight. Arthur leapt to his feet at once, his chained mail jingling. “Merlin, old chap! It’s about bloody time.” Then all his knights jumped to their feet too, and everyone drew their swords and cheered, “Huzzah!...
Submitted to Contest #165
I’m almost glad Jim’s running late, because I’m about to break his world, and damn it, he’s my bro. He’s my guy. We go way back. But if there’s bad news he’s gotta hear it, and it’s my duty to tell him. That’s what friends are for. I’m not really good at this touchy-feely stuff, so I hope this cake place is all right. They got a decent coffee here, and a bitching key lime pie. Man, that shit is bananas. If pies were women then this one would be– Oh, there he is! “Hey Jim!” Yeah, he sees me. Ooh, is that a new jersey? Looks pretty dope. Looks...
Submitted to Contest #164
Brandon looked out over the floor – with its winding counter and Plexiglas shield segregating hundreds of staff from a legion of customers, with its myriad stanchions webbed together by criss-crossing tape that formed Möbius lines, with its three lazy fans that did little more than shuffle the stale sweat air from armpit to nostril, with its never-ending symphony of phone-rings and baby-shrieks and tired-grumbles accented by improvised solos of the irate, with its Byzantine maze of signs and symbols and arrows hanging from the ceiling, with ...
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