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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Apr, 2020
Submitted to Contest #55
“Can you keep a secret?” Alma whispered this after a half hour in the closet. Margo, her older sister, was battened down in the far back corner, knees held up to her body and nervously folding her pajama pantleg to alleviate tension. Their closet wasn’t big, forcing them to sit amongst dangling clothes and Alma’s collection of cartoon plush toys. “I already know you peed,” Margo said. “Why do you think I moved so far away from you?” “What?!?” Alma replied, almost shouting. “Don’t try to pass the blame on me!” It was past midnight when...
Submitted to Contest #54
When the solitary cloud moved past the sun, nothing obscured the piercing rays from firing down onto the Nevada desert, the merciless summer heat oppressing the film crew like ants under a magnifying glass. Perhaps if they had more common sense, one of them might have suggested rescheduling the shoot. However, “rational thought” and a “Rhapsa Pumpus film” weren’t phrases that went hand in hand.“No!” Rhapsa shouted in his bizarre, impossible-to-place accent, “Molly, come on! We’ve been over this!”She glared at him, something made much less th...
Submitted to Contest #53
The Morgan farm is hard land – a colossal beast at over 700-acres, most of which are seemingly endless seas of wheat and hay. I remember the long afternoons I spent there, hiding with my pal Trent. To children who couldn’t see over the wheat tops, those fields truly did feel infinite. Today though, I drive past them without a second thought. Those stalks feel so much smaller. My destination is up ahead – Barney’s cottage. *** It’s a cool, clear evening during the tail-end of fall break. We stop the jeep at a grassy area near the tree line, r...
Submitted to Contest #52
During the day, Eatum’s is a local supermarket and pharmacy.In the late hours, Eatum’s is a lighthouse, a dreamlike getaway for woe begotten souls, an entity embedded within a town that feels perpetually stuck in another era – Red Ridge.For Amity Figg, the acne-plagued teen who works night shifts, it’s a chance for her to plan the romance novel she'll never get around to writing and dream of a better future – a life separate from Red Ridge.For baby boomer insomniacs like Roger Morris, it’s a place he runs to once a week to restock. He’d run ...
Submitted to Contest #51
Beleaguered by a litany of unpleasant thoughts, I trudge through the ugly nightscape of the city – too tired to sleep, too awake to ignore just how bad things are. All around, the concrete high-rise apartments loom over me, crammed together like a can of sardines. Even when they’re filled to max capacity, those buildings always feel so empty, so quiet. Following the dim streetlights, I continue, unsure of my exact destination. By far, this city’s greatest sin is its lack of a beating heart. There’s not a drop of style or substance, and what ...
Submitted to Contest #50
The sun is setting. I feel a strong sense of trepidation as I ascend the moldy, aged planks to the Stephens’ treehouse. The family’s Burtonesque backyard trees stretch far above the roof of their two-story home, and since the treehouse was initially built for Robyn’s older sister Wendy, that makes it slightly older than I am. Theoretically, any of these planks could crumble beneath my weight. Hell, the last time I made the climb, I was probably still in elementary school. The thought of falling makes me sweat even more than I already am, and...
Submitted to Contest #49
Joe was stuck. Or, more accurately, his leg was ensnared by the metal teeth of a bear trap. Worse, it was late at night in the middle of the woods, so any chance of help was slim. Joe thought as he thumbed over the rust. Thing must be old as hell. No way would anybody lug something like this all the way out here. Inhaling deeply, he wedged his fingers through the steel jaws, trying to pry them apart. After a few seconds, he knew it wouldn’t be a good idea. He feared that he wouldn’t be able to release the trap entirely, and if he ran out of ...
Submitted to Contest #48
Conrad ran along the rainy street of Boswell Terrace, his power enhancing his already impressive physical aptitude. He tugged on one of the leather straps around his arm to loosen his joints. For his mission, speed was more valuable than protection, so he wore the lighter variant of his suit – a thin layer mesh weaving that should, at least theoretically, stop bullets. Adorning the chest area was an overtly tacky red “T” embellishment that was stitched onto the suit against his will.Using a car was out of the question. That would have both d...
Submitted to Contest #47
The forecast called for clear skies. You find that statement to contain a good deal of irony in retrospect. The wall of smoke pressing against the opposite side of the window obfuscates your view. Rapping your waiflike digits across the window, you unintentionally dirty your fingertips from the thin coating of dust. It has been a few days since the smoke rose from the earth, and since then, you’ve kept the ventilation off. Additionally, any openings to the outside have been blocked with duct tape or wooden planks. One can never be too carefu...
Submitted to Contest #45
Twenty-three was too young for someone to face their own death.Within the confines of the plain hospital room, the little fires in Viv’s brain flared, her tenuous nervous system receiving the full brunt of the painful pangs. It was a cruel trick her body played – making her so exhausted that she spent most of the day in bed, but then jolting her awake every few hours with severe headaches. The waves of discomfort flowed through distinctly each time, making each interruption to her rest a unique experience, one that always kept her on the bri...
Submitted to Contest #44
The stainless-steel cloche was lifted in excruciating slow-motion; the appetizer hidden beneath revealed.Ben could smell the wasabi with which he’d accidentally inundated his dish. It’d taken him too long to realize peaches and wasabi were good together, so much so that he panicked when he’d figured it out, putting something together that he was not remotely proud of.Ben’s despairing gaze grew murky, cloudy. It wouldn’t be good if he cried, but there was no avoiding it. He wasn’t even listening to the host at that point.Ben was eliminated fi...
Submitted to Contest #43
It was almost noon when I woke after a night ploughing through classic Twilight Zone episodes. Winter break just started; I figured I was entitled to a little extra shuteye. As I went downstairs to make lunch, the sight that greeted me was that of my mother, standing in the main hall, back facing me and head tilted upwards. I followed her gaze to see that she was looking at the oversized circular window above our equally ostentatious front door. Placed on the mutins of the window were a few figurines, so small that, had I not been looking, I...
Submitted to Contest #42
There’s a rumor, oft spoken of amongst gossiping housewives, drunken vagabonds, and truant delinquents, that a back-alley doctor operates just out of sight from the public eye, one who performs miracles. The procedure one must perform to find him differs, depending on who you ask. Some ardently claim the doctor lives on an unmarked floor in a hospital, while others believe he resides in a forgotten room within an abandoned crack den.It’s a story that’s been circulating for decades, yet never subsiding like so many other urban legends. About ...
Submitted to Contest #41
The first time I saw Austin’s dog, she stood unaccompanied atop a hill near Austin’s house, her body bathed in the orange glow of sunset. She was a golden lab named Ven.“Isn’t it cool!” Austin exclaimed.Austin had just picked her up from the pound that day. We were still kids. The social gap between us wasn’t nearly as obvious.“Yep,” I replied, “she’s brilliant.”I hung out more with Austin after that day, and, by extension, with Ven. It was fun to pretend that she was mine, at least for a while. I lived just next door, yet my family didn’t h...
Submitted to Contest #39
It was 1995 at music camp when they watched the stars.The four departed from the campgrounds to avoid the nightly fire pit conversations. With everyone talking simultaneously in a cacophonous haze of laughter and a pervasive scent of marshmallow, the fireside chats were not a pleasant experience for the quieter campers. Worse, they were to be split up by instrument for the event, so Brandy, averse to the idea of not spending one final night with her friends, decided that they would go to the train yard. Matt and Willow agreed readily, and ev...
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