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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jun, 2024
Submitted to Contest #294
After almost a half-century, I finally convinced my mother to sell the family home and move into assisted living. That my mother was ninety-five, while my first born was dead was a cruel irony that has haunted me for decades. When she was finally settled into her new home, I had to face the thankless chore of emptying the contents of her house so it could be put up for sale.When I pulled the junk drawer out from under the cabinet, an envelope fluttered to the floor. I placed the drawer onto of the cabinet and bent down to pick it up. The leg...
Submitted to Contest #281
JC left the Gold Coast Casino where he worked as a magician’s assistant. The headliner appreciated his ability to disappear and reappear so seamlessly and often asked him the technique. JC could not really explain his ability to resurrect, but at least the illusion kept money in his pocket. The Gold Coast was not on the Las Vegas strip, a surprise to many tourists who had tickets to the magic show only to discover the 1.5 mile hike in the desert heat was not doable for them. Taxi drivers hated these fares because the riders were so miffed, t...
Submitted to Contest #278
After almost a half-century, I finally convinced my mother to sell the family home and move into assisted living. That my mother was ninety-five, while my first born was dead was a cruel irony that has haunted me for decades. When she was finally settled into her new home, I had to face the thankless chore of emptying the contents of her house so it could be put up for sale. When I pulled the junk drawer out from under the cabinet, an envelope fluttered to the floor. I placed the drawer onto of the cabinet and bent down to pick it up. Th...
Submitted to Contest #270
It was before sunrise when Lucille looked down at the cast iron skillet on top of her range. “Sunny-side up,” she whispered. That is what her grandmother used to call fried eggs. She held the brown shelled egg in the palm of her right hand and thought, I’ve never tasted a fried egg as good as my grandmother made. She sighed. “And I’ve never been able to duplicate her technique,” she muttered. She placed the room temperature egg in the ramakin. She leaned against the counter and thought ab...
Submitted to Contest #267
My latest best friend Etta left a message that she needed me to take her to the airport early the next morning. As well as my aversion to driving, I hated disappointing people. Therefore, I found it difficult to say no, especially when I thought someone needed me and had taken the opportunity to befriend me. Others who understand friendships much better than I do know there are two favors that will test any friendship: first, helping a friend move, and second, taking a friend to the airport. Etta’s flight was at six o’clock in the next morni...
Submitted to Contest #266
The crumpled computer paper was up to her ankles. “I quit!” Maryann shouted. “The only killer is this mystery is me, killing trees.” She stormed out of the room. The ceiling fan was whirring on the highest speed, causing the balls of computer paper below to rustle across the floor like inner-city tumbleweeds. One ball rolled from under the desk to the opposite wall. The black and while tuxedo cat, Hemmingway, bounced it between its paws, and then, hearing the can opener, scampered out to the kitchen. A man in his mid-thirties emerged and str...
Submitted to Contest #264
Chapel of the Lake weddings are mostly performed by Mary Ann Feebley for the traditionalists. Another officiant, who simply goes by the name of Elvira or Ellie is for the liberals and/or non-believers. Ellie’s legs and arms are wrapped in tattoos, varying from the typical skulls and flames to the more absurd, including a pair of eyes on her shoulder blades, and something unrecognizable around her belly button. She also proclaims to be sexually fluid. On this particular June day, Mary Ann was seated at the patio just outsi...
Submitted to Contest #262
The Goddess was a painter—the cosmos her canvas. There were no laws—only imagination. Birds with endless wingspans flew across skies painted with the colors of her dreams. The sky mingled with the ocean; birds dove into the blue, green, gray waters and emerged with legs and then strolled across various plains. After a time, the Goddess grew bored. She longed for a new canvas that might stretch her imagination. Her mother was not concerned with her daughters restlessness, which she was told was the artist’s way. The Go...
Submitted to Contest #258
The accumulation of what can only described as “stuff” is incremental. Hardly noticeable until a surviving relative must plough through it and decided what will be saved and what will be demolished. I discovered among yet another box of old papers, a small black cylinder. I held it between my thumb and forefinger and lifted the lid carefully with my thumbnail. It contained an undeveloped roll of film. A label on the container read: “Eliza.” ...
Submitted to Contest #257
Fall on your knees was the favorite line from my mother’s favorite Christmas carol. “Fall on your knees, oh hear the angel voices.” As a kid, I wondered if the angels could only hear you if you were kneeling. Is there any more vulnerable position than on your knees? “Get down on your knees and pray the Lord will forgive you,” my mother said when I was put in a “time out.” Kneeling is not natural or comfortable especially when you are the only one on your knees. Any songs the angels may have been singing were drowned out by the relentless b...
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