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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jan, 2021
I died again yesterday. Or it felt that way, at least. It always does. A man caught me in the elevator. He got on at the second floor, when I was busy wheeling Mrs. Denborough out of the way. Something was on the tip of my tongue—Sorry, sir, I think—but by the time the doors opened for the third floor, there were three bullets in my head, and no words at all. I suppose...
(TW for miscarriage and child death.)Maybe we should play a game. That’s immersive enough, right?A game?Monopoly. Scrabble? Something—I don’t know!Yeah, let’s introduce him to social constructs. He’ll surely understand that.Do you have any better ideas?Well…Oh wow, I love that game!
TW: suicideDr. Delaney visits every Tuesday, at eight o’clock sharp. It goes like this: she knocks three times, in succession, but with no particular rhythm; she calls out our name through the door, softly, and only once; she leaves. Though she intrudes on our treasured evenings together, we admire her persistence, her punctuality. Still, we cannot comply with her wishes—even if we begin to listen for the staccato of her feet outside the door. Tonight is no different. She arrives, she knocks, she waits, and s...
Hello! I'm Oliver, a queer, trans writer looking to gain writing experience! If you'd like to help me buy a chest binder: ko-fi.com/planetpol
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