Najwa Zandlo

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Nov, 2019

Stories (29)

29 Stories

1193 karma pts

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“The Third Wave” by Najwa Zandlo

When The First Wave happened, everyone was an expert. “Shoot ‘em in the head! It’s the only way!” “It’s a virus - don’t get infected, and you’ll survive.”  “They’ll starve themselves out.”  “Kill anyone who gets bitten. No questions asked.” No one was calling them “zombies,” but that’s what they were - to an extent. Crazed, infected people with rotting skin. Every “doomsday prepper” and horror-movie fan had been prepared for th...

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“Ring, Ring” by Najwa Zandlo

Ring.  Ring.  The sound of the phone on the wall pierces the silence of the morning with dagger-like precision. Anastasia Malone and her husband, Connor Malone, stare at it, then at each other. Neither wants to make the move to answer. Their breakfast plates sit in front of them, half-eaten. A crinkled newspaper flashes the date in black-and-white: July 23, 1990. Anastasia makes the first move. She inches through the kitchen, watched intently by her husband.  ...

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“Liars, and Boys, and Love - Oh My!” by Najwa Zandlo

Sitting across from me is the man I could potentially love - we’re on our first date.There’s a small, but notable, chance he will fuck me tonight and never leave my apartment again. If that happens, I’ll eventually take a shit in front of him while he brushes his teeth, he’ll propose to me on the spot, and we’ll rush to the courthouse in a final act of spite towards my mother. He’ll father my children, turn my hair gray, and wipe my ass when I’m too old to do it myself. Then, I’ll die because I’m too selfish to go last, ...

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“Play Dead” by Najwa Zandlo

Play dead. No - not like that. What are you doing with your face? This shouldn’t be hard. Just lie there for fuck’s sake. I had a dog that used to “play dead.” I’d point my fingers at him like a gun, say “bang,” and he’d flop over and put his paws in the air - the universal sign. It took me weeks to train him.&...

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“The Man and His Conversation about Death with a Colorful Cat” by Najwa Zandlo

“I’m confused…” said the man with jet black hair and frown lines around his mouth. “What’s there to be confused about?” asked the cat with fire for eyes and stars for teeth. “Am I dead? Is this…heaven? Or am I somewhere…else?” “Where do you think you are?” mused the cat, licking its paw. With each stroke of its tongue, the fur underneath changed colors, shimmering between shades of black and blue and purple and pink and all other colors the man had seen. “What happened to me?” He was getting...

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“7 Reasons Why I'm Glad We're Not Friends Anymore” by Najwa Zandlo

#1. You had the worst personal hygiene and cleaning habits of anyone I’ve ever met. You rarely showered, I never once saw you brush your teeth, and you thought spraying air freshener on your shirts made them “clean” again. Do you remember the day I snuck into your apartment and spent four hours cleaning it top-to-bottom, doing all your laundry, and throwing away the moldy food in your fridge? I told you I was trying to do something thoughtful for a friend, but, truthfully, I only did it to make myself more comfortable ...

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“Window Pain” by Najwa Zandlo

Falling in love with Morgan was easy. She had warm, kind eyes and rosy lips that broke into the perfect, crooked smile. Her laughter came straight from her belly, never forced or fake. When she sipped coffee, she held the mug with both hands and let the steam fog up her glasses, which must’ve been a size too big because they constantly lost their place on her nose. She liked to sing off-key while attempting to garden on Saturday mornings. Between the choruses, she would curse like a sailor on leave at the dead flowers. There was somethin...

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“He Said, She Said” by Najwa Zandlo

Iris Hardwell (Mother of Alex Hardwell) “You know, you’re not the first person to ask that question. Everyone wants to know. Everyone wants to know if I knew my son was a killer. Well, I’ll tell you just like I told all of them - fuck you. Fuck you for ever thinking that. My son was an angel. Ask anyone. They’ll tell you the same. Did I see this coming? What mother looks at her son and imagines he could ever be capable of something like this?” Denise Radley (Alex’s Homeroom Teach...

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“How to Break-Up with Your Boyfriend” by Najwa Zandlo

It’s too late now. You’re already here. Just get out of the car. Seriously. Remember when breaking up with people was easy? Remember when it was just information passed in a note between classes?  

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“Cleansing” by Najwa Zandlo

When I was younger, maybe thirteen or fourteen, I snuck out of the house during a rainy Saturday afternoon. My mother was busy climbing mountains of laundry. My father was sending work emails from his office. The house was quiet, save for the sounds of the thunder and the dull hum of the storm, and I tip-toed down the stairs and quietly made my way through the patio door in the kitchen. I wasn’t allowed to play in the rain.

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“Masturbation: A Love Story” by Najwa Zandlo

My best friend in high school - Bartholomew - told me he masturbated before making any type of decision. He said, “You gotta release the tension before you do anything, even pick out what clothes to fucking wear.” He said we’re all wound up like springs, so we can’t think logically. Back then, I thought he was just a horny teenager that liked to jack off too much. Now, I think he was onto something. 

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“Falling in Love with a Haunted House” by Najwa Zandlo

Not all hauntings happen in Victorian-style houses with stained-glass windows and wrap-around porches. They aren’t limited to old, porcelain dolls, or leather-bound books with ancient languages scribbled inside. People can be haunted, too - hearts

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“Roast Beef and Antifreeze ” by Najwa Zandlo

I don’t even like roast - I feel the need to stress that. I hate it, actually. I hate the way it smells. I hate the way the meat tastes after cooking in its own juices for hours. I hate the vegetables - the carrots get soggy and the potatoes turn into mush. I hate that it takes all day to cook a good roast. I hate the way people turn...

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“The Laundry Room ” by Najwa Zandlo

Your mother is in there - in the laundry room - washing your clothes right now. She’s sorting out the darks from the lights, and she’s making neat piles on the floor of your dirty clothes. Let’s face it - they’re more than dirty,

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“I Love You” by Najwa Zandlo

“I love you,” he says. The room is warm and humid, our sweat mixing in the air, windows slightly cracked to let in the sounds of the warm, Southern night. We’re lying in bed. He has his arm around me in a way that has to be uncomfortable for him but oh-so-comfortable for me. The words are dripping over us – this is the first time he’s said it. This is the part where I’m supposed to say it back, but I’m choking. He’s relaxed against me, slowly falling asleep in the haze. Flashback to five years ago. I was walking dow...

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