Moshe Davidovici

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jan, 2023

Stories (4)

4 Stories

65 karma pts

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“Embodiment of Fate” by Moshe Davidovici

Submitted to Contest #274

500 miles off the coast of the Mirk-Morat Isles. 37 A.T.F (after the founding of the Morati capital, Marmatiti.) “Oh my, it’s always so difficult to avoid laughing when we do this. I know how crucial the stern voice is for it all, but it’s just so bloody hilarious. Being the incarnation of fate punishing you for your sins is such a riot.” Isisot adjusted the angular black mask that covered his face, distorting his voice into a deeper, sinister impression of some embodiment of terror. He watched the Voyage Queen come c...

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“Good Morning” by Moshe Davidovici

Submitted to Contest #260

“Gotta say, I wouldn’t have thought we would end up in the same bunk. ‘Tis most fortuitous.” Brett put extra emphasis on the ‘fortuitous’. “‘Tis a turn of fate found to be most timely and effervescently pleasing.” Lindsay agreed and smiled. Her high-waisted jeans stretched as she walked down the length of the bunk building. “I mean, it’s not even bunks, though. I know both of us have pretty wealthy parents, but they could have sent us to a camp that wasn’t so nice that everyone has their own neat little bed in a gigantic ‘b...

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“The Magnum Opus” by Moshe Davidovici

Submitted to Contest #252

“Robert, please go to sleep!” his wife pleaded with him. She pulled on his arm. It was no use; nothing she could say or do would budge him. “The doctor said it’s what you need!” “Shut up!” he fumed. He pulled his arm forcefully out of her grasp and resettled himself in his writing chair, in front of his typewriter. Those he knew had wondered why he wrote with a typewriter, but he maintained that it created the “perfect atmosphere”. For writing, he was a method actor. He paused a small while before speaking again. ‘What’s it to yo...

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“Our Little Game” by Moshe Davidovici

Submitted to Contest #252

It was a game. Of course it was a game. That’s how it had always been. Of course he knew she was there; she probably knew that he knew, even as she sat on a nearby bench “reading” a newspaper with little eye holes cut in it. such a cute amateur tactic, the little flirt. He fancied she knew when he was there just as much as he knew when she was, that she knew when he peeked through her conveniently opened blinds. Of course, he couldn’t rightly rule out that there weren’t times when she was following him, watching, waiting, and he was non...

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