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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Aug, 2019
Outside my window, a whale swims past, feeding off dust and starlight. There was a time when seeing something like that, so massive and so old, would have instilled me with wonder and awe, but whales are common enough these days (thanks to the efforts of environmentalists) that they no longer take my breath away, although not much does now.I glance down at my map, tracing my finger over the path I've drawn for myself through the constellations.We're so close.Behind me, the rest of the crew does their tasks - ...
They lock their doors at sunset and keep their windows shut. When people come from over the ancient, crumbling stone wall built to keep things out, they can never tell if they're human or not.It pays to be careful. Some of the older people like to tell stories about how little Tommy went outside of the wall one day and was swallowed by the gaping crescent moon, or taken by the trees, or lured away by tinkling laughter and glimmering lights. Though no one is really sure if it's true or not, there's no way to prove it, and i...
We're drifting. We've been drifting for a long time - that's how we save fuel and energy, especially if we don't have any specific destination, but it seems our conservation efforts haven't been enough because Rust is telling everyone not to panic and saying that we'll all be fine if we just remain calm. Outside, a scattering of stars is reflected in my glasses - a thousand globes of fiery plasma hanging in...
The cottage is a fairly secluded place tucked away between two hills, a stream winding through the garden and a sparse forest in its back yard.When we arrive, the sun is dipping below the horizon. The person we're renting it from - a middle aged woman living at her parents' house during the quarantine - is nowhere to be seen. I didn't really expect to see her in person, but the cottage still seems strangely empty and hollow.I step out of the car, shutting the door behind me. It slams shut too loudly and I look around. A few ...
I can hear my heartbeat.Β My knees are pressed up to my chest, my eyes squeezed shut. The celebratory drum beats outside sound like a funeral march, the fake paper mache rocket theyβve set up on the stage is a pyre. Β I cover my ears, drowning out the laughter and the buzz of excitement and fear thatβs everywhere.Β I can hear my breathing - erratic and quick and too loud, loud enough for them to hear....
Iβve had them since I was ten. At the time, they were, well, probably the most exciting thing that had ever happened to me. I had lived off of superhero comics and saw myself as the next one of them. Even though I didnβt exactly have a tragic backstory (my parents are alive and well to this day, I never experienced any sort of freak accident or was exposed to radiation, etc.), or any villain (yet), I saw those typ...
The scent of tangerines delicately perfumes the air as I run. Branches caress my face, before snapping back at me, leaving angry red welts. Air rushes through my hair, making it fly behind me like the ribbons of a kite, rippling in the summer air. I can hear him behind me, his breaths heavy and ragged - we have been running for a long time, nearly half an hour. I have been running my whole life. Ther...
She didn't walk me to the station to say good bye and give me a long, warm hug and tell me how much she would miss me. In fact, she practically shoved me out of the house, slamming the door behind me and leaving me standing on the porch, suitcase in one hand, alone in the light rain, mist coating my hair and face with tiny droplets of water. My hair hung in loose tendrils over my face. The station was only a few b...
She said it was just a quick shopping trip, that it would take ten minutes at most. She said that we'd be in and out of the store, that all she needed were some school supplies (paper, notebooks, etc.) She promised it wouldn't take long."So, where are we?" I say, turning the map I took from a store window over, trying to figure out how to read it. There are no labels, just strange symbols and pictures scattered across it."No idea," Maxy says, looking around. "But it's pretty nice here, isn't it?"I glance up f...
She's lived in the woods as long as she can remember, and so did her mother, and her mother's mother before her. She wonders if she'll have a daughter that will live in the woods - right now, the prospect of birthing and caring for a child is unappealing, but she wonders if that will change.She doesn't have a schedule or job - today, she gathers herbs by the river flowing past, tomorrow, she may collect berries or tend to her flower garden or make a poultice from the herbs she collected today. The future is uncertain, but she can c...
The kettle whistles, and I stand up, putting away my phone. I wasn't boiling water before, but it's not surprising - Florence usually stops by at around this time.I wander into my kitchenette, looking around. Sure enough, Florence is hovering just in front of some of my upper cupboards, looking for something.She doesn't look up as I enter the kitchenette."Where do you keep your tea cups?" she asks in her high, rather reedy voice. "One cupboard to your left. Don't use the porcelain ones, they were a gif...
The wardrobe to Narnia. The rabbithole to Wonderland. All the stories where ordinary, almost boring things turn out to be magic make you start to realize that anything can be magical. Miraculous.That's how my magic was - beautiful, majestic, shining and barely real, and then gone forever.It started with a rainy day when I had no umbrella. I huddled under the awnings, keeping my head down as water dripped off the roofs and onto my hair.I sighed, checking my phone for the millionth time. My mom was supposed to pick me u...
The smell of tart lemons. Wind rustling through the trees, mingling with the piano notes coming from inside. Laughter and birdsong and wild happiness.The sun shines brightly in my memory, and the sky is perfectly blue, like an ocean, like a clear, smooth lake, though in reality, it was probably just an ordinary spring day - partially cloudy and a grayish blue sky.Me and Lu were sitting in the living room, playing Uno with my older brother. My mom was in the kitchen working on lunch for us: mac and cheese, which we had nearly...
The train is a small, rickety thing. The sound of its wheels whirring and bumping over the tracks is everpresent, and the constant murmur of conversation in most of the cars can't drown it out.I don't mind it so much. The consistency of it is soothing. If I focus on it, I can almost forget I'm surrounded by people in this stuffy, hot train car and imagine I'm going on this journey for the first time, excited and nervous, my stomach in knots and my eyes bright with anticipation.The memories still bring back that sense of achi...
Most of the lights are out. The moon hangs into the sky, its heavy, milky light making shadowy figures on the wall. The clock's face is smooth and pearly white, and I can here it ticking.I check it every now and then. Ten minutes, then nine, then eight . . . Time seems to pass slower if you pay it too much attention. I tap my fingers on the table, waiting.Listening.They say that in the last five minutes of the year, you can hear ghosts. Ghosts of your past selves from the twelve months before, ghosts of people that di...
I tried to make a belt out of watches, but it was a waist of time.
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