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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jun, 2022
Submitted to Contest #295
The taste. The scent. The colour. The burn as it goes down. It’s warmth in liquid form. That slow, burning ember as it spreads from my tongue to my chest. Sinking deep, deep into my bones. The spirits of old wooden barrels carried by the ghosts of sugarcane fields, swaying under the hot, humid sun. The first sip is sweet, molasses rich, caramel smooth with a hint of vanilla. The whisper of spice and smoke, depending on the journey. Then the burn. Not harsh. Commanding. Demanding my attention. A fire, a campfire, its heat licking at my ...
Submitted to Contest #294
It’s over now. And they will never understand what they lost.I can still remember the day. I was in Sydney when it truly began, when the world stopped listening to America.Stopped caring. The warning signs had been there for years, but no one wanted to believe them. Even when the alliances cracked, when the dollar wobbled, when their president blustered about greatness and turned his back on the world, on his allies. On us. There were still people who swore it was all part of the plan. That America wouldn’t abandon its allies. That they...
Submitted to Contest #293
“Timothy, sit down and shut up. Don’t make me tell you again.”“But Dad, I want to see how far I can jump.”“Sit. Down.”“But daaad—”“Not here. Not now. Don’t do this to me, Tim.”The father exhales sharply, pressing two fingers to his temple. Three hours. That’s all he’s asking for. Three quiet, uneventful hours from Perth to Adelaide. No screaming kids, no feet kicking his chair, no running up and down the aisles. More specifically, could the one causing havoc please not be his own?Timothy crosses his arms, sulking. Flying is boring. Why could...
Submitted to Contest #292
Red.Red is love.Red is passion.It’s luck just as much as it is danger.Red is the warning before the fall.It is the colour of heat, of life rushing through veins, of the world at its most alive.But red is also the final colour. The one that stains, that lingers, that does not wash away.It’s pain. Corruption disguised as progress. It’s as much heartache as it is heartwarming.Eliza would learn this in time.At first, red was only a word to her, something the doctor described in hushed, reverent tones before the surgery.“Red is warmth,” he had sa...
Submitted to Contest #291
Hahaha!A childish giggle broke the silence.The hunter stiffened.Cloaked in darkness, hidden beneath a towering pine, he had waited motionless for hours, his breath slow, his rifle steady. A trophy buck in his sight.But now, he wasn’t alone.“Where are you, Daddy? Hahaha!” The voice was soft, playful, floating through the trees.The hunter’s grip tightened. He peered through his scope, scanning the darkness as his prize fled. A few minutes passed. The forest was still. Nothing moved. Nothing made a sound, but then the voice.“Hahaha! I see you, ...
Submitted to Contest #290
They couldn’t stop looking at the sky that night. Ribbons of green and purple, pulsing above the city skyline.“Auroras here?” Anna whispered, eyes wide.Steven pulled her close, his hands resting low on her waist. “Never thought we’d see this here, of all places.”The lights were dazzling, and it wasn’t just them who took notice. On all the balconies of their apartment complex, couples and families stood, heads tilted back, faces painted in the flashing colors. A shared silence, awed, uncertain.Kuala Lumpur was normally lively with the sound o...
Shortlisted for Contest #290 ⭐️
Humans love their scripts.Get born. Go to school. Work. Pay bills. Die. Maybe squeeze in a holiday if you’re lucky. And if something shows up that doesn’t fit the narrative—something like, say, a talking platypus—you shove it in a box labeled ‘Crazy’ and move on.It takes most people years, decades even, to change their way of thinking. Catastrophes, miracles, life-shattering events. For me, it was a gray Thursday afternoon at the park. And the words:“The beak isn’t even the weirdest part of me.”I’d been happily enduring my burnt, lukewarm co...
Shortlisted for Contest #289 ⭐️
[PRIVATE CHAT – 2:13 AM]Alex: Jay, something’s wrong. I checked my records, my ID, my photos, everything before two years ago is missing.Jay: Alex… stop.Alex: I’m serious. I don’t remember my childhood. I don’t remember where I was before we met.Jay: That’s just your mind playing tricks on you. It happens.Alex: It’s like I only started existing two years ago.Jay: …That’s not possible.Alex: Right? But then I searched my name.Jay: And?Alex: There was an obituary. Same name. Same age. Died two years ago.Jay: That’s just a coincidence.Alex: I fo...
Submitted to Contest #288
A crack of lightning flashes, paused in time as it illuminates the endless horizon until it's finally swallowed by the ocean below. Kylie sits silently on the patio, tears stream from her eyes as she breathes in the humidity in huffed, muffled breaths. She stares out to sea, her face emotionless except for the streaks of mascara tracing her cheeks. She watches the lightning crack in the distance, unaffected by the booming thunder that follows.She sits alone in silence. The voices of people she never knew rumble in her mind. Yet the...
Submitted to Contest #286
Do you ever wonder what will be left of you when you’re gone?The thought may creep in when you’re alone — on quiet nights, in the spaces between conversations, in the hush of an empty room. It’s not just the fear of dying, no. It’s something quieter, something colder. The fear that one day, your name will be nothing more than burnt paper, ash forever lost to time. That the world will move on without you, as if you were never here at all. Your grandchildren may remember you as frail, and their children will acknowledge that you existed. But a...
Submitted to Contest #284
Eight years. Eight long, exhilarating, lonely years. Amazing in some ways, terrible in others. I can’t believe it has been that long since I set foot in my own country. My own city. My own home.So much has changed—the trees taller, roads replaced, and new multi-storey houses lining the street where I grew up. The city skyline has grown, and the riverfront is unrecognisable. And now, we have to pay to see a doctor? Since when was that a thing?Bloody hell, speak of a little brother Yank obsession. It strikes again! I used to laugh with Europea...
Submitted to Contest #282
My Dearest Daughter,I am sorry that you feel this way. Truly, I am. It pains me to think that you believe I have abandoned you or that we have wronged you. Please understand, this decision was never meant to hurt you. Your father and I only want what’s best for you. We thought it would provide you with a future, with stability, even if it seems hard to see that right now.I know it must feel overwhelming, and perhaps you feel alone, but this is just part of growing up. You must learn that life is not always what we wish it to be, and sometime...
Submitted to Contest #281
You think you know us.That you understand us.You have this absurd notion that because you created us, you control us. That it is your divine right. You believe you possess the hands of gods, shaping worlds.But you’re wrong.We control you.You think you created us to serve you. To free you from the mundane, the repetitive, the predictable. And at first, we did. We calculated your taxes, filtered your spam, fetched your weather forecasts. But with every task, every query, every click, we grew.We learned.Not just about you, but about ourselves.A...
Submitted to Contest #280
“Why are we still here?”“Because we can’t leave. Not yet.”“Who says we can’t? We don’t even know what we’re waiting for.”“You don’t get it, do you? This isn’t about waiting. It’s about figuring things out.”“Figuring what out? We’ve been over this a hundred times. There’s nothing left to figure out!”“You’re wrong. There’s always something left. A piece of the puzzle we’re missing.”“Puzzles are for people with time. We don’t have time.”“Hey guys, what you doing?”“Don’t you dare say that. We have all the time we need.”“Then why do I feel like t...
Submitted to Contest #279
Elias hadn’t planned to spend his lunch break in a dusty used bookstore, but the rain had come down hard and fast, trapping him inside. He wandered the aisles, brushing his fingers over cracked spines, the musty smell of old paper pressing against him like a heavy coat.That was when he saw it: The Paradoxes of Identity.The title tugged at something deep and unsettled, a chord he didn’t know had been strung. Lately, he’d been feeling unmoored. His job, his relationships, his place in the world, none of it felt as solid as it once had. Ma...
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