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Michelle Oliver

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Dec, 2022

Stories (81)
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481 Followers
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81 Stories

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Nothing Left, but Hope

Submitted to Contest #296

Denial When the contractions begin, I panic, which was not the best thing for a woman in labour to do. However, a woman in labour also shouldn’t be on her own, yet here I am, alone, afraid and exhausted. Another pain grips my body with lightening fingers and I whimper pitifully. I’m not ready.In the past six months, I had aged twenty years. Days and weeks are hard to keep track of, but I know it’s only been six months. I’d just had my three month ultrasound and found out that we were having a girl, when they arrived.The media called them Ali...

19 likes 10 comments 10
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An Exceptional Match- A regency inspired romance

Submitted to Contest #290

“Confound it Georgianna. It’s not as if we are sending you to the devil. It’s your wedding day. It will cost you nothing to smile.” Lord Winton smoothed his silken waistcoat and flicked an unseen speck of dust from his immaculate sleeve as they waited in the drawing room for their barouche to be brought around.“Papa, I have nothing to smile about.” Indeed, The Honorable Georgianna Winton could barely summon a twitch of the lips, her face as pale and immobile as an Elgin marble. Not that she h...

26 likes 16 comments 16
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Unforgettable

Submitted to Contest #283

“‘Tis the season to be jolly…”The carolers rang out their joyful refrain, fa, la, la, la, la-ing with enthusiasm, as Mary wandered slowly through the softly swirling snow-flakes that drifted into her thick, rich, hot chocolate. The mug was bright purple and contrasted oddly with the picture perfect Christmas card environment, so she wrapped her mitten covered fingers further around the cup to disguise the imperfection.Three children were building snowman, scooping piles of fluffy snow that gathered beneath the overhanging eaves of the nearby...

26 likes 17 comments 17
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Gifts are Given, Not taken

Submitted to Contest #281

Lazaro wended his way through the crowded ale house, one hand greeting everyone with a warm handshake, the other slipping fingers into pockets that were not his own. He beamed, and smiled, and thanked everyone for coming out on this cold, blustery evening to celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of his birth, a most auspicious occasion.By the time he had circumnavigated the room and arrived back at the bar, everyone was in rowdy, high spirits. He leapt up on the counter, his diminutive height put him at just a head above the crowd, and, flingin...

19 likes 9 comments 9
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Faithful

Oh, Glorious Majesty of Sacred Powers!Um, who me?Wondrous Redeemer and All-powerful Lord.Well, I wouldn’t go so far as that…Heavenly Esteemed One, whose power fills all things, whose bounty is good and whose name is to be exalted above all others.Now I just need to check, are you speaking to me…Creator of all, Knower of all that is, was and will be.…or are you speaking at me?I say, who is interrupting me in my prayers?I’m sorry, but you were talking to me.Who is this?Well now, if you’re not sure, then perhaps you had better not continue your...

12 likes 8 comments 8
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Internal Monologue of a Pantser

5 daysThere is a clock ticking. It’s freaking loud, marching down the seconds like a Drill Sargent yelling orders at a recruit. I must take the battery out. It would give me so much more peace, instead of listening to it harp on every day about time and how it’s passing. Yeah, I know! Shut up, you stupid inanimate object. The incessant ticking is NOT helping.The deadline is five days away. I pull up my comfiest chair and plonk myself down at the worn writing desk. There is plenty of time. I start up my laptop and tap out an idea, an opening ...

14 likes 11 comments 11
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Hope

Submitted to Contest #274

DenialWhen the contractions began, I panicked, which was not the best thing for a woman in labour to do. However, a woman in labour also shouldn’t be on her own, yet here I was, alone, afraid and exhausted. I was not ready.In the past six months, I had aged twenty years. I know it’s only been six months, because I’d just had my three month unltrasound and found out that we were having a girl when they arrived. The media called them Aliens, then they called them Conquerors, then they didn’t call them anything anymore. All media, all powe...

35 likes 31 comments 31
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Ding, Dong…

Submitted to Contest #273

Mary Jenkins lived alone. This was not by choice, but by circumstance. Her husband, Patrick, died young, leaving Mary in a house on five acres just outside of town. In the early days of her widowhood, she hid from the world there, nursing her broken heart, keeping to herself. As time passed, it became habit, until, at sixty-three, she enjoyed her own company more than she endured the company of others, causing the children to call her the Witch of the West. No one knew her well enough to call her wicked.Mary’s life had been spectacularly une...

25 likes 12 comments 12
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The Werewolf’s Wife

Submitted to Contest #272

There is nothing worse than fleas, and I come crawling home covered in the buggers. Megan gave me that look as she stood at the counter fixing breakfast. The look that says, Oh, for the love of God! I know that expression well. The side eye roll, the firmly clenched lips that are going white about the edges, and the stiff shoulders. I slink by her sheepishly, straight to the shower, knowing she won’t appreciate fleas at breakfast.In the bathroom, I transform. I have found that it’s the best place to do so, as I always emerge from my other se...

44 likes 24 comments 24
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The Blue Marble

Submitted to Contest #270

Jadis knew the restaurant wasn’t particularly fancy, or even very friendly. That’s why she chose it. No-one asked questions at this far end of the galaxy, not if they wanted to stay alive. Zark sat down opposite her in a cloud of tentacles and body odour.“Zelgfish pie?” He asked, holding the plate out on one globular tentacle.Jadis shook her head, her stomach revolting at the sight. “Look, I just want to go home. OK?”“Favours ain’t free,” Zark said as he shovelled the pie into each of his mouths.“I’ve got the goods.”One white whiskered ...

31 likes 11 comments 11
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Left

Shortlisted for Contest #269 ⭐️

All that glitters is not gold, or so the saying goes. Marissa fiddled with the band on her left ring finger, sliding it up to the first knuckle then back again. A golden prison, but so pretty. The diamond sparkled in the light, catching the suns rays and reflecting it back like mini fireworks.“What are you going to do?” Jane asked, her limpid eyes studying Marissa’s face with the earnest concern only a best friend could feel.“I don’t know.” Marissa huddled in the chair she’d pulled up to Jane’s island bench, her head throbbing with the echoe...

47 likes 35 comments 35
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Labour's Lost Love- a drunken tragedy in three acts

Submitted to Contest #257

CW: Shakespearean bawdiness!****Act 1 ****——Scene 1——(Enter Lord FARRINGTON and Sir MONTRAY, two young lords of lofty houses, both in a drunken, rambunctious state of dishevelment and good humour.)FARRINGTONThis night have I been greatly entertained with such delightful hospitality delivered with such grace and charm and wit… (Farrington stumbles drunkenly.)MONTRAYGood faith, dear Farrington, we have been charmed, Such hospitality knoweth no bounds, Nor bonds nor aught whi...

21 likes 7 comments 7
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The Swing of Things

The rhythmic screech of metal on metal pierces the night, echoing in the dark like demon screams coming for your soul. Instead of fleeing, I march toward the sound, unafraid, yet anxious still. I’m either a brave lad, or I’m stupid. Maybe both.Maria sits, toes dragging in the dirt, scuffing a groove deeper and deeper into the dirt, as she swings back and forth absently on the ancient playground equipment, setting my teeth on edge with every ear piercing motion. I take the seat next to her and join her, gently swaying, my swing groaning in a ...

14 likes 14 comments 14
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Not A Bad Man

Submitted to Contest #252

“Oh, for the love of…” Selina muttered the curse under her breath, biting off the profanity at the end with gritted teeth, aware of the little ears flapping on the other side of the bathroom door.“Mama!” the snot-faced, adorable terror that controlled her life hollered loudly enough that the neighbours would likely call 911.“Mama needs to pee. Give me a minute.” Ha! As if a two-year-old understood the concept of time or personal space. From the moment he toddled his first steps—actually, from the moment he could crawl—Jasper had followed Sel...

31 likes 21 comments 21
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What’s Going On?

Submitted to Contest #249

What if life offered second chances? If you could press rewind, or stop, or start from a certain point again, just like watching a YouTube clip. Would you take the redo? Would your life be different? Press play.▶️ The train grinds to a halt midway between stations and you look out of the window onto a freeway that better resembles a car park. It is as if the entire world has been forced to a stand-still. Swirling around you in the cramped carriage, there are chaotic bubbles of conversation peppered with exclamations of dismay, and your heart...

39 likes 30 comments 30
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