Moludan Moore

Author on Reedsy Prompts since May, 2023

Stories (4)

4 Stories

54 karma pts

?

“It's Not That Simple” by Moludan Moore

Submitted to Contest #231

“He spoke to me on New Years Day”, Jonah began. It was now the 18th of January. “I was in prayer, Isra, after we hung up, and I prayed and prayed, asked and asked that I may see His glory. We’d read Exodus 33 that week in church, and I kept thinking about Moses. I kept thinking that the whole point to life was to know God. To build as intimate a relationship with him as possible. I kept thinking about how perfect He must be, that someone like Moses, who knew Him so closely, could see at most His back. I kept thinking these things, and I pour...

2 comments 2
Read story

“Sweet Dreams ” by Moludan Moore

Submitted to Contest #211

We leaned into each other, so our foreheads touched. Then our noses, and you moved your head side to side, so they didn't just touch, but brushed against each other. I opened my eyes, to see how far away you still were– how much longer I’d have to wait– and, indeed, you hadn't come close enough to close the distance. So I said, sharing the breath you let out: You have to do it, though.Was it because of my nerves, or the temperature of the room, that I became flushed? Fodder burned in the fireplace, but the wood had yet to ignite. Nevertheles...

0 comments 0
Read story

“Idol” by Moludan Moore

First I felt the sensation drain from the tips of my toes and fingers. Not quite like they tingled– alive, but with the patient threat of dying– more as though I'd forgotten I had them. This forgetfulness permeated my limbs and crept into my torso: my back no longer pressed into a mattress, but afloat; my chest no longer a home to a beating heart, until what I'd once regarded as the vessel to my self, but what I now realise really was me, consisted only of a tingling face– clinging onto life. I still felt a cheek against mine, wet with tears...

0 comments 0
Read story

“Nausea” by Moludan Moore

Submitted to Contest #197

Jean Paul lay in a meadow; half asleep, half aware of the sheep grazing around him. His mind hummed with the blissful vibrato of unconsciousness: he heard nothing, smelled nothing– in part away, in part aware of his being away. Each passing thought animated behind his eyes, in fleeting brightly coloured images, whose sense was not analysed, but felt. He thought, in his far away mind, that his self must be exempt from his body, if, while the body sleeps, he is thus alighted. Yet he knew at once to be true, should his body die, he must die alo...

1 comment 1
Read story

Author bio

Hey there! I'm a novice writer, whose work mostly consists of literary fiction and poetry. You can find my debut novel on the Kindle store- Being Alive by Moludan Moore and H. M. Bloom.