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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Feb, 2024
Submitted to Contest #293
Nadia hated train stations almost as much as she hated airports—too many people. She pressed her forehead against the window, watching the commotion on the platform as passengers waited to board the solar sky train. Two identical toddlers zig-zagged through the boarding line until their mother retrieved them. An elderly man blew his nose into a tissue, then tossed it to the ground before holding up his wrist band for the conductor to scan. “Freaking millennials,” she mumbled, rolling her eyes. A soft voice interrupted her musings....
Submitted to Contest #280
The erratic hum of chaos grows on the lawn outside my window as dozens of staff members scramble to finish last-minute preparations. The scene reminds me of when I kicked over anthills as a kid and tried to crush as many of them as I could while they searched frantically for their queen.Cupping my hands around my mouth, I chuckle and whisper, “Your king is here!”I never lost hope in the years leading up to this moment. When they had my back against the wall, I didn’t tap out. No one expected me to make a comeback, but the numbers didn’t lie ...
Submitted to Contest #271
Every Saturday for eleven years now, I have followed the same route: A right at the end of the cracked concrete walkway that leads from my front door, then along the stones to the riverbank. From there, navigate roots and rocks that line the river as I descend the mountain towards town. The hemlock trees, normally stoic even in their droopiness, ripple in the wind that has arrived ahead of the storm charging up from the Gulf. My days resemble this trail, relatively unchanging for now. Such repetitiveness would have bored me back when I was i...
Submitted to Contest #247
I walk to the end of the side street and peer through the largest crack in the concrete partition. A piece of rebar protrudes from halfway up the wall and into the space where I stand; I cannot get closer without risking impaling myself. From my tiny window, I see two children chattering as they sit outside at a table covered in white paper and acrylic paints. A girl, about twelve, makes broad strokes with a brush while a younger boy writes something in the corner. He lacks the motor skills to hold the marker correctly, and his scrunched-up ...
Shortlisted for Contest #243 ⭐️
The truck jolted over another crater-like pothole as the pungent odor of rotting fish filtered into the cab, mingling with the salty air scratching at the back of my throat. I grabbed my grimy steel travel mug from the busted cup holder and took a swig, gripping it tightly to protect the precious brew that had been cold for hours. As much trouble as the old diesel gave me, she could navigate anything but a sinkhole. Over the years she evolved into a fortress of jagged rusty metal, deterring thieves and most everyone else, too. I named her Ma...
Shortlisted for Contest #238 ⭐️
“I’m just too tired to…” Her eyes landed on his face as she rolled over. She saw the expectation that lingered there in the lines between his furrowed brows. It traveled up into the creases of his forehead, pointedly asking, ‘Well?’“Either way, I might die,” she said quietly, flipping the pillow to lay on her back. She stared at the spot where the ceiling met the tattered rosebud-patterned wallpaper she once loved. They picked it out for their wedding registry at that little shop on South Houston St. while arguing playfully in the tiny aisle...
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