Olive Silirus

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Oct, 2022

Stories (19)

19 Stories

46 karma pts

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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. “I think I found somethin...

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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 marching band, wh...

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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 he or she ruled. Perhaps ‘inspect’ would be too ge...

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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 head and spilled red and white ribbons from its depths, they murmured that she perhaps had no hair and wore a ridiculous wig made of string...

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