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Orwell King

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jun, 2022

Stories (34)

Comments

Library

68 Followers

7 Following

34 Stories

1199 karma pts

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Home, But Not Quite

Orwell King

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...

16 likes

Beloved Daughter

Orwell King

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...

15 likes

Age of Lethargism

Orwell King

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...

12 likes

All in this together

Orwell King

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...

18 likes

To lie is to know

Orwell King

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...

15 likes

When the World Falls Silent

Orwell King

Submitted to Contest #278

The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead, casting an unflattering pallor across the austere chamber. Callan Hargrave stood alone at the centre of the circular room, his reflection distorted in the glossy black floor beneath his bare feet. The air was heavy with the sterile scent of disinfectant.Rows of masked faces loomed in the shadows above him, their identities concealed behind smooth, featureless visors. They were the judges, the accusers, the audience—indistinguishable and united in their anonymity. Behind them, high on the wall, ...

17 likes

And then there was nothing

Orwell King

Submitted to Contest #265

The airport, once a bustling gateway to the world, had become a strange limbo. The familiar hum of engines and rhythmic announcements of departures and arrivals had faded into an eerie silence. The air was thick with the lingering smell of stale coffee and fast food, mingling with a faint scent of antiseptic. Monitors flickered with the same cold message: All Flights Canceled. The crowds, once lively with chatter and laughter, were now subdued, their voices lowered to anxious murmurs. Eyes met briefly before quickly darting away, as if afrai...

7 likes

A Tattered Flag

Orwell King

Submitted to Contest #263

The black-and-white footage flickered, casting a ghostly light over the dimly lit shack. Resistance fighters huddled around the makeshift television desk, their faces etched with weariness and resolve. The grainy images of the dense Bornean jungles and the devastation wrought by the Malaysian military filled the screen.“In the dense rainforests of Northern Borneo, conflict is brewing. Discontent with the new Malaysian government’s religious policies has sparked violent uprisings in the region of Sabah. What began as a few isolated prote...

8 likes

The devil above

Orwell King

Submitted to Contest #249

“At the roundabout, take the second exit.” “Shut the fuck up Siri!” He screamed. “You’ve been driving us around in circles through this shit hole of a town for the last twenty minutes, for Christ sake!” He continued. I have never really seen him this angry, this upset. Usually he’s the cool, calm and collected head and I’m always the worry-wart. But today, today he’s just… off. Off more than one would expect to be off on a day like today. “Turn left down Macquarie lane and then make a U-turn” Siri blurts out smugly. “Jesus H...

14 likes

Desperate Remedies

Orwell King

Submitted to Contest #248

I can still feel the weight of my daughter's frail body in my arms as I trudged through the dark, rain-soaked streets of New Orleans. Her sickness had defied every remedy, every doctor's prescription, every whispered prayer. My little girl, once full of laughter and mischief, had become a ghost of herself, pale and weak, her eyes haunted by pain.I had scoured every inch of this city for a cure, from the sterile clinics of uptown to the dingy bars of the French Quarter where rumours and shadows judged every footstep. It was in those shadowed ...

19 likes

Not what we seem

Orwell King

Submitted to Contest #247

As the deep space exploration drone, "Odyssey," approached Proxima Centauri, tension filled the control room. Engineers and scientists gathered around screens displaying the drone's telemetry and images from deep space. Months before the launch, the space agency had assembled a team of experts from various fields to work on the Odyssey project. Engineers, scientists, linguists, and even psychologists were brought together to ensure the mission's success. The team spent countless hours in simulations, testing every possible scenario and fine-...

9 likes

Don't swallow porcupine fish

Orwell King

Submitted to Contest #245

Under the cloak of a tranquil starlit night, beneath the vast canopy of the sky, a young girl named Liana sat beside her father, gazing up at the moon. sitting together outside their home in a small coastal village, they were nestled in a cozy spot near the shore, surrounded by the gentle sound of waves lapping against the beach and the soft glow of lanterns illuminating the night. It was an evening unlike any other, for the moon was gradually being enveloped by darkness.Fascinated yet perplexed, Liana turned to her father, her eyes wide wit...

9 likes

Cage

Orwell King

Submitted to Contest #232

In the lavish penthouse of the Luminara Dynamics Tower, Marcus Voss, the CEO, leaned against the panoramic window. The dying sun cast a feeble glow across his opulent office. "Our Dysonsphere," he mused, "is the salvation of humanity. We control the light, the energy, and therefore, the fate of this dying world."A man of impeccable taste and insatiable ambition, his journey to the top of the corporate ladder began in the slums, where scarcity was the mother of invention. With a keen intellect and a ruthless determination, Marcus seized oppor...

5 likes

Two carrots

Orwell King

Submitted to Contest #231

I overheard an intriguing conversation the other day. A child asked their mother, “What is the first thing you remember?” The more I pondered, the more I realised it's a complex question. The child’s mother replied, “The smell of Grandma’s apple pie.” A peculiar choice, as I've never experienced that aroma. The only thing I've ever smelled is carrot.The child’s mother turned the question to her own daughter, Sally. “Well, Sally, what is your first memory?” Sally's eyes lit up, “Dad’s music. BANANANANA, THUNDER! BANANANANA… he really likes th...

7 likes

Beneath frozen wings

Orwell King

Submitted to Contest #227

The world outside my cozy abode in the attic was still wrapped in a blanket of winter's chill. My internal clock, however, seemed to have missed the memo about a prolonged nap. As I stirred from my slumber, the frost on the windows told a tale of a world not quite ready for my awakening.The first rays of dawn crept through the small gaps in the roof, casting a gentle glow on the unfamiliar surroundings. The air was crisp, and the silence of the sleeping household below was disturbed only by the faint hum of the heating system and the occasio...

17 likes