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Author on Reedsy Prompts since May, 2020
Submitted to Contest #56
Any last thoughts on”—Edwin looks down at his notebook—“Gabrielle?” It’s not a good sign if Edwin has already forgotten her name. I shake my head. Gabrielle had my least favorite kind of voice. She sang like the world was ending, and only vibrato could stop it. It’s the kind of comment I would usually say out loud, but I’m too tired to be snarky.We’re bringing in a new lead female vocalist, now that ours has decided to flee the country. That’s an exaggeration. Lilah got into grad school in Italy. To study opera. I’m trying not to think about...
Submitted to Contest #55
My sister smacks the card down on the table, next to my bowl of cereal. She stands, not speaking, arms crossed, staring at the side of my head. “What’s this?” I ask, even though I know. It would be impossible not to know; she posts a daily countdown to her wedding on Instagram. I haven’t liked any of the posts. She has friends for that. But I ask anyway because it’s fun to get a rise out of her, to see her jaw clench and her eyes narrow. I’m sure there’s some rule, written in an ancient dusty book or on an internet article about how to be ...
Submitted to Contest #54
“Are you going?” “Huh?” he replies. “Are. You. Going.” “To what?” I can hear water running in the background. I imagine him with his phone tucked between his ear and shoulder as he waters the garden or does the dishes, anything to keep his hands moving. “Where?” “Reunion.” “Reunion for what?” I don’t hold back my sigh or eyeroll. If he could see me right now, he’d say I’m being ridiculous, and that he hopes I don’t make faces like this when I’m at work. (I do.) “Our high school reunion. I sent you an email invite last week.” “P...
Submitted to Contest #53
We hadn’t seen each other in two years, hadn’t spoken or even texted since then, until she liked my post about moving to the city and asked, in a comment, if she could show me the best coffee in Chicago. And I, having no friends and a roommate I’d just met and didn’t care for, said yes.She called me twenty minutes before we were supposed to meet. Her name flashed across my phone and I was momentarily confused. I hadn’t heard from her since our conversation in the Facebook comments, and had convinced myself we weren’t still meeting. After all...
Everything was terrible today, but what set him over the edge wasn’t the heat, or the constant repetition, or the know-it-all juniors and seniors. No, he held it together, right up until the popsicle slid off its stick and plopped onto the bleacher below him, melting immediately into a red puddle, oozing like fresh blood. He stared at it for a moment, and then, without a word, he stood up and stormed off, his stomps echoing loudly on the metal bleachers. He didn’t see it, but all the girls giggled, and all the boys made faces. All except one...
Winner of Contest #52 🏆
I don’t prepare for storms. When the newscasters start preaching doom and gloom and pointing wildly at maps of orange and red masses crawling over my tri-state area, I change the channel. When the snowplows start gathering and the trucks drop salt on the highways, I take the back roads. And when people crowd the grocery stores, line up in the aisles, empty them of toilet paper and water and matches and cans of beans, as if they would really eat plain beans out of a can, I stay home and read on the couch. I remember when I was six years ol...
Submitted to Contest #50
She saw her own heartbreak coming, and she did nothing to stop it. Like an astronomer who spotted a meteor and failed to warn the world of its impending arrival, choosing instead to watch and see where exactly it would make impact, how fierce the flames would be. And though the chances were slim, she clung to the faint thought that said: maybe she was wrong, and it would sail right on by, shatter some other planet into rubble and dust. Standing with her brother, June surveyed the scene in front of them. To their left, a strip of boardwalk...
Submitted to Contest #47
“Just say it,” you silently remind yourself. You know you’ll regret it if you don’t. “Can I get a blueberry scone, too?” you ask. So simple. A scone to go with your large oat milk latte. The sort of thing anyone can do, even you. The world does not explode when you ask for a scone. Your heart is still beating faster than it should, but the barista tells you the total and you pay with a card and leave a good tip and nothing bad happens. And then you must wait for your coffee. Waiting is its own form of torture. Where to stand? Why are ...
Winner of Contest #45 🏆
The demolition is scheduled on a Thursday, during finals, at the exact same time that the only ice cream shop in town is offering free cones. This is deliberate, of course; they’re hoping to get it over and done with quietly, without any fanfare.But we will not let them take today away from us.I help my best friend get ready in his room an hour before it is scheduled to happen. He tries to convince me it is not too hot for a suit, and I remind him that if he faints, he’ll make a scene, and not the kind he wants. He makes me turn around while...
Submitted to Contest #44
Oh honey, this one’s going to hurt for a while. I wish I could tell you it’s not going to, but it is. No, I’m not writing from the future; I just know that this is going to hurt for longer than you’re ready for it to, and I'm giving you a moment to wallow.I know it’s going to hurt because lesser things have hurt you for a long time. Sure, bigger things have hurt too. And you got past them, so you’ll get past this too. Getting past it won’t be painless.It’s going to hurt every time you see her or hear her voice. It’s going to hurt when you sp...
Submitted to Contest #43
Gregory never expected his goldfish to come back from the dead.It had been a perfectly normal Wednesday, except that when Gregory went to feed his fish that morning, he was belly up, bobbing near the top of his tank, and obviously not hungry.The fish was named Bubba, and Gregory had acquired him in the way that most children become the owner of a goldfish: by winning a game at the school fair. Unlike all those other, weaker goldfish, Bubba lived to the age of 3, much to Gregory’s delight and his parents’ chagrin.Gregory’s mother had wanted h...
Submitted to Contest #42
“Tell us something you’ve never told anyone else.”In any other context, this would feel like a trap. But here, laying on the floor of the cabin Ella has called home for a week, the trouble is not the question itself, but that she can’t think of a single thing she hasn’t told at least one person here.It is the last night of camp, and here in the cabin they are stretching the time as much as possible, refusing to sleep away their last hours together. Lights out was at 10 PM, so they sit in the dark, clustered on the floor, whispering as if the...
Submitted to Contest #41
Her feet slammed into the pavement as she ran down the hill from her house. Her head bobbed from side to side, desperately searching for a glimpse of brown fur as she called the same name, over and over.Evelyn hated running. Despised it. Whenever she had to run a mile in gym class, she faked cramps. The irony was not lost on her now as her side cramped painfully.Her father was the runner in the family. Every day that she could remember, he was up at dawn to run, and sometimes ran 10 miles before Evelyn even got out of bed. Once, when Evelyn ...
Submitted to Contest #40
I slip my phone into my pocket, vowing not to check it again until I get home. The bus is late, and I fiddle with a loose thread hanging from my shirt. I will not look at my phone. The thread snaps off. I take the hair tie from my wrist and twist it into various shapes. I will not look at my phone.After weeks of deliberation, I have sent a text to my former best friend. That makes it sound as though something awful happened. Something to make me hate her, or vice versa. Former. Prior. Ex. As if she stole my husband, or revealed my darkest se...
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