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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Apr, 2020
Submitted to Contest #249
Time moves slowly when standing in a minefield. Each moment stretches longer than the last and my legs shake from fatigue. Sweat drips along my nose, but I remain calm. I have to. My ten-year-old son stands in the same field no more than two paces from me. He reminds me of the hour hand of a clock. Straight, narrow, and still, standing in between two bombs. I am less lucky. My left foot engaged a bomb buried no more than a few inches beneath the ground. One misstep, one movement that redistributes my weight, and the entire field erupts....
Submitted to Contest #169
It started with a glass bowl. I stood on my office chair and pushed a glass bowl forward with the end of a broom, cereal washing over the edge like a wave pool. I squatted on the chair waiting, praying in silence for anything else to be true. As my knees quivered and my sweaty hands gripped the splintering wood of the broom’s handle, the bowl began to move. It was pulled, as if gravity was turned ninety degrees, under my bed and out of sight. That was the third bowl I lost. My cat’s water bowl was stolen first. Blue, with tiny cl...
Submitted to Contest #168
Even the gentle breeze from the train’s window caused her cheek to pulse. The air from outside tiptoed across her bruised face and dried her cracked lip, but makeup and lipstick could hide almost anything. Glorious pinks and blues splattered the morning sky while the sun pulled itself from behind the mountains in the far distance. The sunrise was beautiful, but that is not what caught her attention. Geese flew over the purple lavender fields in an echelon shape. “I wonder why they fly like that.” A young man sitting across ...
Submitted to Contest #167
Blue flowers grow in my windowsill. They stretch like antennas toward sunlight on the other side of the glass pane. When the window is open, the summer air delivers hints of rich soil, peach, and mandarin along with a memory I can’t entirely piece together. I don’t remember where the flowers came from, but I do know they bring me a feeling of rare nostalgia and joy, especially when I see them dancing in the breeze. “Do you know where these flowers came from?” The woman turns and stares at me for a moment. She’s middle-aged, has bro...
Submitted to Contest #138
“Project D” has been active for the last 150 years. Of course, this measurement of time references when this letter was written. Keep in mind, it could be many years before this writing is ever found. After three failed attempts at configuring a device which would keep the sun shining twenty four hours a day, 365 days a year, the science finally got it right. When I was younger, my classmates would joke stating the reason the government named the operation “Project D,” was to make sure we were all getting enough vitamin D in our lives, which...
Submitted to Contest #105
Blue and red lights lit the shadowed street of an otherwise peaceful neighborhood. Murmured conversations could be heard among the family members gathered on their front lawns craning their necks to get a better view of the scene in front of them. The sound of a car door closing echoed through the heat of the summer night, a young detective in his freshly pressed suit stepped forward, notepad in hand. “Homicide,” explained the middle aged officer, “coroner said he’s been dead...
Submitted to Contest #100
The auditorium was filled. Cameras flashed from every direction with reporters asking question after question hoping to get the opinion of the man on stage. Chef Nelson Drake had done it once again. His smoked salmon recipe was given 5 stars from one of the toughest food critic groups, “Food Critical,” in the United Kingdom. This five star feat had only been accomplished by a handful of chef’s in the country, and this was Nelson’s third five star dish. Nelson sat on a large stage with a square table directly in front of him. His posture in...
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