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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Mar, 2020
Submitted to Contest #262
Has any other well-to-do girl ever seemed like as much of a criminal as me? Camille pondered, sitting in the garden, watching her trembling hands. She felt like she had stolen something. In fact, she knew she had. Not something, however, but someone. All she could do now was wait until he woke up.***An experienced dancer since she was six, Camille took new members of her class under her wing. They were usually complete beginners, more interested in having fun than anything else. She stuck to the basics with them. That afternoon, she taught a...
Submitted to Contest #233
For three days, I wanted nothing more than to get out of bed, but I couldn’t. It was a long weekend off from college because of MLK Day. I hadn’t brushed my teeth, eaten, showered, and had only had a sip of water from my bedstand. A dull, hollow lethargy immobilized me, trapping me in my body. It had been weeks since I had written anything, and I called myself a writer. I didn’t sleep much, either. Mostly, I just stared at the ceiling, my brain coursing through every mistake I’ve made, bathing in misery, picking me apart, coming up with exam...
Submitted to Contest #230
“What kind of wife doesn’t tell her husband she’s a bullfrog?” Millie asked Fey, her soon-to-be sister-in-law, who was, in fact, a massive, green, wart-covered frog. “You’re not supposed to be here,” Fey said hushedly, bulging eyes squinted. “Your wedding is in a week, right? Ezra is my brother, for Christ’s sake! I don’t know what game you’re playing, but you can’t seclude him from his family. Everyone in Tulsa is wondering where he is.” “Okay,” Fey said, sighing and leaning on the front door. Suddenly, her demeanor changed, becomi...
Submitted to Contest #229
It was Christmas Eve, and Stacy was in a random man’s apartment, hooked up to what looked like an electric chair while her cousin Genie waited down the street. “Santa!” Stacy cried as the machine flared to life, a halo of sparks around her and the ceiling lights flickering, while her maddened, wide eyes stared at a can of Coke on the table. “Yes! Yes!” a man in a lab coat shouted excitedly, jumping up and down. The dingy, ancient apartment had peeling, faded, ornate wallpaper from the 1920s and was so small that even Stu...
Submitted to Contest #228
“Why does the sun look like that, Daddy?” the young boy asked, pointing to the blinding glare from the distant mushroom cloud forming on the horizon. “Go get ready for dinner, Owen.” the older man said, snapping the shutters closed. He guided his son to the dining room and returned alone. Peeking out, he sighed. On the table was a record player. He dropped the needle. “White” by Miles Davis played. It was a haunting piece with a signature shrill trumpet and ringing chimes. Eyes shut, he envisioned the surrounding world drowned ...
Submitted to Contest #225
All I remember of the mirror was my reflection reaching out and choking me in Mickey and Rosalind’s antiques store before I woke up in the hospital. I closed my eyes and thought back to what happened. I saw Rosalind scrubbing the window, suds running down their leg. Some homophobes had vandalized the store again. I helped them finish cleaning, and Mickey came out, thanked me, and asked if I wanted to look inside. I accepted and soon found something that interested me. It was a Victorian mirror, its frame like black whisps of smoke curling ou...
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