Myranda Wren

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Feb, 2023

Stories (5)

5 Stories

115 karma pts

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“Eternal Past Time” by Myranda Wren

Submitted to Contest #220

Charles’ legs felt heavy as he struggled to put each foot forward, one after the other. His boots were coated with mud that had dried and hardened into clay and yet still clung doggedly to the boot treads. A remnant of the flash flood which had sent him scrambling up a rock face and left him clinging desperately for a time. The storm of hours before was forgotten in the distance, now suggested only by the hint of dark clouds on the horizon that moved steadily away. The unrelenting desert sun barreled down upon him, and his once damp clothes ...

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“A Cup of Solitude and Company Shall Rarely Meet” by Myranda Wren

Submitted to Contest #217

Sir Foggerstone heard the knock at the cottage door. Its rapid and repeated tenor suggested the matter was urgent. He heard his name called several times but instead of rising, he raised a delicately painted teacup to his mouth and, after inhaling the fragrant aroma that held a mixture of lavender and licorice, he took a sip of the warm liquid. He starred at his freshly baked cookies knowing they would all too quickly turn cold before he could enjoy them. Perhaps that was for the best as his baking attempts had been mediocre at best. H...

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“Joe's Bouquet” by Myranda Wren

Submitted to Contest #191

Before Joe turned the street corner, he heard the telltale sound of the rolling steel shutters that signaled the store was closing. Joe leaned heaving on his cane, the orthotics in the new orthopedic sneakers his wife had bought him doing more to create blisters than comfort. He stared down at the ugly orange shoes, they had been on sale and his wife just loved a sale. His wife, the flowers, he took a breath and trudged forward. Turning the corner he saw the smooth metal aluminum shutter covering the store entrance and a lock. Whoever worked...

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“Day 1007” by Myranda Wren

Submitted to Contest #187

DAY 1007: The dog hasn't spoken to me since I accidentally lost his frisbee out the airlock. How was I supposed to know he had hidden it in the other space trash? "The cat was eyeballing it," he claimed before he shut me out altogether. I tried to plead with him, "I was just doing my job. I feed you and the cat and I keep the ship clean, which includes taking out the trash." He was unmoved. "I'm sorry," I added. "I was only allowed to bring one toy, Doug. And now, thanks to you, it's gone," he said with a flip of his tail, turni...

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“Glass Jars” by Myranda Wren

Submitted to Contest #186

An outstretched branch bends as clawed feet alight. Breaking blossoms peak through searching for spring. Black wings perched. A glimmering, faded sequined button held fast in a beak. A pause for danger. Flutter. A warm updraft. A peaceful glide. Scattered bread crumbs land softly. A trade. Hands strangely wrinkled grasp one another. A cloud lets free a sunbeam. Reflection. Thoughts of childhood. Sparkles of light scattered on the ground. Wisp of memory. There but for a moment…What was it? Forgotten, forgetting. Hair pushed back neatly. Pal...

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Author bio

Finally finding the vulnerability to put my stories slowly into the world for anyone who might want to read them. Tip toeing.