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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Sep, 2022
Submitted to Contest #172
Sometimes I feel like a foreigner in my own mind, or like my mind is the foreing place in and of itself. I often feel lost. Everyone else instinctively knows what is expected of them, how to feel and how to react. It’s as if they have a knack for life that some of us will never master. Do you know how often I find myself apologising for something, not knowing what exactly I’m apologising for? The closest thing to an answer that I’ve been able to come up with, is that I’m apologising for my existence. Feeling. This is a word I have trouble wi...
Submitted to Contest #171
My father is dead. When I found out, I felt nothing. Isn’t there supposed to be something? When I think back, I’d always imagined feeling relief or satisfaction or freedom or… something. Instead of pondering about what he was, what he did, who he was supposed to be, I imagined that I’d be able to think about him dispassionately, without remembering… without subconsciously touching my tongue to the inside of my lip, feeling one of the many scars he left. There were so many reminders of him around me, on me, in me. It’s more than just the face...
Submitted to Contest #170
TW. Some strong language; allusion to abuse. “I’ve got a plan,” said Adea. “I’m sure you do,” replied Vivica automatically. She loved Adea dearly, but sometimes she was much too optimistic. Generally, that’s what one would want from a best friend, but she was like Vivica’s polar opposite. “Seriously, Viv, I do - you’ve just got to hear me out. We’re getting your stuff back!” The girl was basically quivering with enthusiasm. Viv often felt guilty for bringing her friend back down to earth, because they’d had each other’s backs for yea...
Submitted to Contest #169
Story contains references to mental health and trauma; some strong language.“I seriously need to get a replacement for this damn mirror,” Joe said to herself. She tried to ignore the cracked mirror - her new haircut made her smile. She’d had it cropped extra short the week before. Her mom would have used the word “tomboyish” to describe it. “She would have hated it,” thought Joe. Thinking about her mother always made her feel uneasy and guilty in equal measure. She had no idea where the idea of those perfect TV moms come from - you kno...
Submitted to Contest #168
Mention of hardship, poverty & deathWhen people think of train stations, they tend to think about adventure, about magical far-off places, about a journey. Others (like those of us who are much too neurotic for our own good) think of wrecks, crashes, and all manner of disasters… death. Trains can instantly conjure up images of magic and nostalgia, of wizards and war, of transport and tech. What people seldom think of when imagining a train ride, may be the medley of passengers who wished they were anywhere but there…On the usual morning ...
Submitted to Contest #167
This mind is a mess. I’ve lived in many of these kinds of dumps, fixing them up and moving on. I know that I’m supposed to be a professional, but there is a lot to do to get this place cleaned up. It’s like no-one ever did any kind of housekeeping to speak of, never cleared anything out, never threw anything away, never so much as picked up a pair of rubber gloves or a scrub brush. This place has needed attention for ages. It looks like that show, Hoarders - you’ve probably seen it: garbage is just piled on top of other garbage to the point ...
Submitted to Contest #166
I hate it when people ask me, “When are you going to start a family?” Even the word family brings up a complicated series of emotions for me. Growing up, there wasn’t much to look up to in the way of role models, so I always thought that that was how people treated one another. The stupid, angsty teenager that I was, often thought that I’d rather be alone than be part of something that I hated. Luckily, life has a good sense of humour – I met an amazing man with whom to spend my life. “When are you going to start a family?” This is family. I...
Submitted to Contest #165
TW: Allusion to trauma, abuse, neglect. Most people who have been through a traumatic event, have a tendency to blame themselves at one point or another. More often than we care to count, we utter the phrase, “This is all my fault.” It reverberates through our actions and thoughts, like ripples on a pond. These ripples distort what is true, what we think is real. This is natural and, luckily, we stop taking responsibility for things beyond our control that happened to us… hopefully. What happens when there is a seemingly unending series of...
Submitted to Contest #164
Where I come from isn’t really anywhere at all. It’s a shell of something that was hardly worth calling anything, really… when anyone still called it anything. It’s somewhere people pass through quickly, without a second glance, without looking back, hoping they make it to wherever they’re trying to get, hoping that they don’t suffer some kind of breakdown on their way to, well, somewhere… anywhere that isn’t here. You could call it a ghost town, but, if you ask me, not even ghosts want to roam here. People would jokingly say that it looks...
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