Nick Physick

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jul, 2024

Stories (4)

4 Stories

60 karma pts

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“The D.E.V.I.L” by Nick Physick

Submitted to Contest #263

“Well, I’ll be damned,’ the man said. ‘You’re him, aren't you? You're the Devil."Alastor rolled his eyes. "No, I'm just--'“You have the horns and everything!"“They’re not horns,” Alastor explained, with the heavy monotony of a man repeating himself for the billionth time. “They’re epithelial lesions. It’s a skin abnormality. If you don't mind, can we--"“Wait…does this mean I’m in hell?”Alastor rubbed his face in his hands.“No way!" the man raved, "That’s crazy, man! What did I do?! I don’t deserve this!”“You’re not in hell," Alastor said, ...

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“"Kitty"” by Nick Physick

Submitted to Contest #262

"'It'd Be Shrewd Not To: Money Saving Tips for the Budget-Conscious Traveller'", Ryan muttered, examining the cover of the chunky paperback that had monopolised Lisa's attention for the last twenty minutes. "Ah, so that's why we're not in the Maldives.'Lisa tipped her head and eyed him over the lens of her sunglasses. "You're burnt," she said.He flipped the camera on his phone to check his face. Beet red. With a grunt, he hoisted himself up onto his elbows, squinting down the beach towards the lapping waves, where Bailey and Sarah franticall...

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“The Demetriou Ruling” by Nick Physick

Submitted to Contest #261

Geoff Demetriou spat forcibly onto the tarmac and scuffed the phlegmy produce into the pavement with the sole of his boot. He unclipped his helmet and slung it onto the lawn, where it landed supine, rocking on its dome in the hopeless manner of an upturned turtle. His eyes were pink and swollen, his cheeks beneath streaked with some nondescript fluid. He rubbed his ribs, sorely noting at least two or three unnatural protrusions. Behind him, a crisp voice squawked robotically from the waist-held radios of several of his nearby colleagues.‘Two...

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“Either Way” by Nick Physick

Submitted to Contest #260

Robert Etheridge spent the split-second it took to slip the Focus into reverse surveying the crunchy, rust-coloured carpet of decaying sycamore leaves that lined the gutters of Carmichael Avenue. He took a moment to appreciate the unexpected dose of urban beauty; the vivid hues of their slow demise combining to banish the grayscale aesthetic of the cul-de-sac, temporarily bringing a certain picturesque charm to the neighbourhood.The time was a minute after half past one in the afternoon. The lady over the road - currently peering from behind...

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Author bio

A 33-year-old Finance professional beginning his foray into the world of fiction writing. Feedback much appreciated!