Olive Silirus

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Oct, 2022

Stories (15)

15 Stories

39 karma pts

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“A Peculiar Correspondence” by Olive Silirus

Mrs Lillian M. Atherton881 S Wildcreek RdBidvillage Dear Mrs Atherton, I am sure that you were in no way expecting a letter from me. It did not, after all, even occur to me to write you until last night, when it struck me that, though we have never met, we now share a common plight, one that should be properly addressed and dealt with; my dear lady, we must be the ones to do it.  We have, in fact, been neighbors for some time. If we had not, of course, none of this (and I am sure you know what I refer to) would have ever happened. That...

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“Her Name (An Epilogue Story to Mountain Flower)” by Olive Silirus

The girl was gone.Deamus knew it the moment he stepped away from her. He did not look back; he did not have to. He had felt the way the darkness came for her, swiftly and quietly. He knew she was not in pain. And the strange ache in his heart would only grow more painful the longer he stayed with her. She had asked one thing of him, in a way that only a person who knows they cannot carry out the task themselves would. She had asked him to take the flower to her mother. He had promised he would, to the girl, and to himself. That he would...

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“Mountain Flower, part III” by Olive Silirus

“Wake up.” The dream vanished as if it had been blown away by the wind the moment she looked away from it. She forced her eyes open. She was still sitting exactly where she had fallen asleep, her hands stiff and cold again. The kind-eyed man was standing next to her, but he was looking up, at something in the distance. Ruth clambered to her feet, feeling even more tired than she had before her brief rest.  “The clouds moved. We should move while we can still see the top of the mountain.” The man set off behind his companions, who were a...

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“Mountain Flower, part II” by Olive Silirus

The first time Ruth had heard the tale of the mountain flowers, she had been seven years old, and her mother had asked her to sell flowers for a bit of extra money. They had been especially poor then, with no man to provide for them, and so few people in the village who offered work to a woman. Ruth’s mother offered that Ruth keep busy while she was away at work, and since she already liked to pick wildflowers, why not sell them. Ruth had wanted to protest that wildflowers were for giving to your mother to put on the dining room table, somet...

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“Mountain Flower” by Olive Silirus

Ruth woke to her mother gently stroking her cheek, feeling her forehead, as she always did on the mornings when Ruth was sick. She whispered softly, perhaps something about a warm breakfast, hot lemon tea to soothe Ruth’s aching throat. The room was strangely cold, but mother’s hand was warm, so Ruth ignored it. “I’m alright, Mama” Ruth murmured, turning away from her mother. But instead of meeting the end of her straw-stuffed pillow, the edge of her own bed back home, instead of hearing the sweet lull of her mother’s reply, she hit her head...

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“The Little Light We Have” by Olive Silirus

For there is always light,if only we're brave enough to see it.If only we're brave enough to be it.-Amanda Gorman, “The Hill We Climb”When the world froze and the sky turned dim, people stopped living. Yes, they were alive, but the two concepts were no longer the same. Everything seemed to harden. The ground, as it froze. The sky, covered in iron-gray clouds. The lives of people, every day, as they struggled to go on in a world where even breath...

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“The Tale of the Rabbit-Eared Dragon” by Olive Silirus

There was once a knight who didn’t particularly like being a knight.In fact, he loathed it.He loathed the heavy, cold armor that he wore, he despised the uncomfortable helmet that sat upon his head, he hated the lumpy cot he lay in at night in the knight’s barracks. And he couldn’t stand the tedious tasks that he carried through day after day. Lower the drawbridge. Put it back up again. Investigate the old woman’s suspicious garden patch. Set up the next festival or execution. The same dull routine.But when one’s fath...

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“Signs of Growing Up” by Olive Silirus

The first sign of growing up was the rubber bands. Holding one in each small fist, Lottie knew her time had finally come. Or, at the very least, was coming very quickly. Probably too quickly. A dreadful, downward spiral of getting older. Lottie wasn’t sure how she knew it, only that she did. A year prior to this moment, she never would have given even a glance to the two perfectly matching ponytails; she would have surel...

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“Dear Vivian” by Olive Silirus

Dear Vivian, You are the only one I remember. Everyone who has come to visit me since ‘The Accident’ (as they all call it) has meant nothing to me. I take one look at them and I know they aren’t you. They all have these big, sympathetic eyes that look at me like I’m some lost puppy. It’s odd.  Vivian, I remember you so clearly; your straight red hair, your slender finge...

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“Lui” by Olive Silirus

Lui was the way I always said her name was spelled, even though I knew it was wrong. My mom thought it was silly - it was supposed to be spelled Louis. That’s how it was spelled in The Trumpet of the Swan, the book that our Lui was named for. But then again, our Lui was a duck, and E.B. White’s Louis was a massive swan. There had been another Lui before the one we all grew so attached to. He was a tiny, unhealthy duckling, who barely survived for longer than a week. He never ate, he never grew, and h...

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“The Lion in the Box” by Olive Silirus

If being the only lion in the pet shop had perks, Leo had certainly never been treated to them. As he lazed in a pile of soiled wood chips, staring woefully out the glass wall, he considered the misfortune of his situation. Stuck in this cramped prison, watching as, day after day, Patterfeet ran by, yelping in excitement or fear, Rufflefeathers squawked unhappily, and all the while, humans admired them like they were the most precious, un-vexing things in the world. Leo was disdainful of this place; it was most odious. The bow...

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“This is my brain in love” by Olive Silirus

The woman who confronts me on her front step is about as old and brittle as they come. Her eyes are dull, a pasty blue. Her face practically disappears beneath layer after layer of wrinkles, and her pale skin looks as though it hasn’t seen the sun in years.We stare at each other for a moment before I speak. “Um, hello ma’am.” I say, feeling myself shrink under her harsh gaze. “Does a Matthew Roberts live here?”Her eyebrows furrow. “Gah!” she says. “What do you want?” She prods me with her cane, and I jump away. “...

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“Fútbol and other, more important things” by Olive Silirus

I guess the sudden love for soccer was the first surprise.My brother had never been much of a sports person before his mission trip to Ethiopia, besides the occasional hockey game we went to, or the shot put and discus he did at school. None of our family really was, of course. At that time, I spent the majority of my time in my bedroom, writing, reading, drawing, or simply messing around. My headphones always accompanied me when I did these things. And I always had a song stuck in my head.The trip was also before he joined ...

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“The Day of the Gracious” by Olive Silirus

Warning: brief mention of deathA stranger was walking the streets of the market.The young man meandered idly about, his head held high and his nose wrinkled. Occasionally, his bejeweled hands would reach into a nearby basket, selecting a fruit and inspecting it before tossing it back.The vendors watched with hateful eyes, not daring to protest.After all, today was the Day of the Gracious.Every seven months, the reigning monarch would come to inspect the markets and homes of the men and women h...

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“The Ribbon Girl” by Olive Silirus

They called her the ribbon girl. Though she rarely walked through the cobbled, gray streets of her small town, the villagers spoke often of her. They spread unkind and foolish rumors of the once unnoticed inhabitant of their hamlet. They whispered words of deceit and watched carefully whenever the young girl came into their view, searching for a crack or a flaw. Because of the black hood that covered her he...

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