Missy Talbot

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Oct, 2019

Stories (8)

8 Stories

255 karma pts

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“Her ” by Missy Talbot

Submitted to Contest #108

I love the burn. One flick and the flame bursts forth between my fingers. It is so easy- just a roll of the thumb and I hold what mankind had taken eons to discover and harness. In the glow of the street light, I watch as the flame licks the air, a hungry tongue searching for something, tasting the night’s shadows. I release and the light vanishes. Another flick - the sound of my thumb against the metal - and it returns, still hungry, always hungry. I know it needs to feed soon. I know I cannot keep it waiting.     &nb...

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“The Bathtub ” by Missy Talbot

Submitted to Contest #101

TW: self-harm, suicide              On the eve of my thirteenth birthday, my mother rose from bed in the middle of the night, ran herself a bath and slit her wrists in the tub. I found her the morning she died. I rose from bed, my spirits high. I had it already planned out what I would say to my friends at school, how I would tell them that I was officially a teenager, not a child anymore, when they would ask if I wanted to join the boys in an afternoon game of ball. I entered the bathroom, ...

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“The Veil ” by Missy Talbot

Submitted to Contest #99

Outside the window, far past the valley, the sun has begun to set. Violet and pink rays stream through the withered curtains and dissolve into shadows. The steel of the knife glints in the fire light. The shadows leap from the hearth and dance around the small room, across the dirt floor to the bed in the far corner. The wind outside begins to howl and the house shakes from its wrath. I run a worn cloth down the length of the blade, feeling the sharp tip beneath my fingers. I pick up the stone from the kitchen table and swipe it against the ...

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“The Voice ” by Missy Talbot

Submitted to Contest #92

       It was late into the night when I heard the voice. I was lying in bed and had been for hours, one foot into the world of sleep and one foot into the world of the awake. I sat up, and for a moment, wasn’t sure which of the two worlds the voice had come from. The voice was soft, like the whisperings of a lover from across a pillow. I called out, but heard no reply. A cloak of silence descended upon the room once more. For several minutes I strained my ears, but I didn’t hear the voice again. My house w...

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“The Pond ” by Missy Talbot

Submitted to Contest #77

He had been gone for hours, but he would return. He always returned.The wind howled outside, an angry beast that would not be quelled. Snowflakes, usually the epitome of grace and beauty, flurried outside the frosted window angrily. The cement floor was a lonely ice rink devoid of skaters. A dim bulb glowed overhead, casting shadows into the corners. My fingers had started turning from blue to black. I had stopped feeling my toes days ago.I looked to the window again, straining my neck as far as I could to peer into the frost-bitten glass. T...

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“The Memory Man” by Missy Talbot

Submitted to Contest #75

The 14th of December was a cruel, bitter day; the sort of day best left to be forgotten, save by the poets who would look at the barren trees and flat gray skies and think there was something there worth immortalizing. The town was quiet and still, the streets empty, no one bothering to embrace the agony of the winter cold unless absolutely necessary.            I stoked the fire in my office. It was a feeble thing, the flames desperately licking the air the way a hungry dog licked a bo...

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“The Chosen One” by Missy Talbot

Submitted to Contest #52

It’s an honor to be chosen. That’s what they always tell you. I’ve heard it since elementary school, the first time I heard of the National Lottery. The highest honor an American can be given is to be chosen, my teacher once told us and the biggest service you can do for your country is go. Some years there were even volunteers, overly patriotic martyrs who saw this as their way to serve their country. On the years there was a volunteer, the country sighed in collective relief.Some years the Chosen One was not an ideal candidate. Mothers of ...

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“The Extraordinary ” by Missy Talbot

Submitted to Contest #49

                                            The Extraordinary I had pictured death to be a lot of things- eternal darkness, blissful paradise, never ending torment. I had prepared myself for the glory of heaven and the horrors of hell. I had researched reincarnation and imagined coming back to earth as a newborn baby, or...

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