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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jan, 2020
This story contains themes of stalking and abuse. The first thing I noticed about the antique briefcase was that it wasn’t dusty. My husband’s work shed had been a project, part of a birthday present for him. He loved to tinker with things; he’d always been good at piecing broken things back together. The shed was more of a tiny house, really. It had an old television set he’d picked up from curbside trash, a small couch and two wooden chairs for company, when the neighborhood guys wanted to get away for a bit. It had a small fridge, a decen...
Submitted to Contest #251
I don’t belong here. I can’t finish my notes; I have no access to my book. I’m running out of time and nobody seems to care except me. Heartless bunch of cowards. The first time I noticed it was in a biography of an Ecuadoran politician. I could sense I was missing something; the author was trying to tell me something, but I couldn’t see it. I read it thoroughly, not missing a word. If I couldn’t focus, I’d reread sentences, paragraphs, pages. The feeling was unsettling. I needed to cleanse my mind, so I turned to one of my library’s staples...
Two hours and 47 minutes. The clock said it was only that long. I saw daylight, thunderstorms, nightfall, day again. I felt the sun on my skin. I tasted the raindrops and waited for the thunder to roll over me. The pack of cigarettes in my shirt pocket was empty. I went out at 6:14 to sit on the porch and watch the cars fly by, dust encrusted on the windshields. Pollen-coated adventurers traveling west to…what was west? According to the news, soldiers guarding the city gates, citizens rising against soldiers. Were the drivers stopping early ...
Submitted to Contest #167
Abby didn’t curl her hair often, but today she wanted to look perfect. Her lips were stained red and her black lashes elongated. Every time she moved she sparkled—she’d tried a new body shimmer spray and she couldn’t stop admiring her arms as she stretched them out in front of her. Yet she knew enough about men to know that she didn’t want to look like she was trying too hard, so she dressed casually but strategically. Her favorite denim shorts and a sapphire shirt with a neckline that teased men. She knew this was the date that he’d tell ...
Submitted to Contest #84
Emily shuddered when her leg bumped an upright headstone. The dark granite color reminded her of the counters in Michael’s apartment: cold, impersonal, and dreary. “I’m sorry,” she said to damp grass in front of the headstone. She wasn’t a paranoid person but didn’t want to take any chances. Not after everything that had happened the past five years. A man at a nearby grave looked at her quizzically for a moment. He held a bunch of yellow flowers tied with green ribbon. A little boy next to him clutched a single daisy. His red hair was tou...
Submitted to Contest #81
It had been seven years since Beth died. Norman still felt pain when he looked at the framed picture on his bedside table. His roommate, Big John, told him the picture was beautiful. It was of them in their first home, Beth holding their first baby. The joy in their faces could be felt by anyone who looked at that photograph. Everyone knew Norman was a sentimental man. He didn’t bring much into the home, but he had photo albums and a box of cards that had been sent to him throughout the years. Peggy, his favorite nurse, loved to look thr...
There weren’t a lot of places to go on a first date in Grey Ridge. Going to a fast-food restaurant hardly felt romantic. The park was littered with trash and the movie theatre seemed to have a perpetually open vacancy for the janitor position. The city was an hour drive and that was simply too much for a first date, especially a blind one. Jason wasn’t sure his car could make it much further than the burger joint, anyway. That’s how he ended up in the bar, hardly able to breathe from the cigarette smoke. Manda seemed at home, waving to a g...
Submitted to Contest #78
She doesn’t feel like writing today. Her head feels foggy, her words lost inside. She tells others she doesn’t have any original ideas. That isn’t quite true; she wants to write about the unique scenes in her mind. She thinks another author could turn her ideas into a New York Times bestseller, but she can’t make it past a few pages. She doesn’t believe she can. Maybe if I wasn’t so lazy. Maybe if I paid more attention to real dialogue, she thinks. She wishes she could translate scenes into a collection of chapters people would actually pay ...
Submitted to Contest #75
“We’d have never taken that oath before—” “Quiet, Sarah. They’ll hear.” Anthony shoves his clammy hand over my mouth. I consider biting it but know that we can’t draw attention to ourselves. The time for childish retaliation is long gone. Anthony seems to sense that I’ll remain silent and slowly moves his hand back to his side. We continue to walk, side by side, down the narrow lane. We have a little over a mile to go before we can speak freely. This is part of the test. They dumped us off and are now watching us as we trek to the House....
Submitted to Contest #74
January 1st, the dawning of a new year, the time for resolutions we never keep…all the clichés felt empty. I should have spent New Year’s Eve out with my partner and his friends, taking shots of whiskey and shooting confetti cannons when the ball dropped. Instead, because of the events of the year, I sat at home, curled up in my recliner, tucked under a soft blanket, watching reruns of nineties sitcoms. I blamed fear of coronavirus, of course, because it was a convenient and practical excuse. Who could blame me for not wanting to be surrou...
Submitted to Contest #70
It is not easy to live inside your head. Maybe I’m the only one who feels that way. How else can others so easily decide what to wear, where to go, what to say and to whom, how to act, or how to feel? Every decision must be analyzed, or so my mind thinks. Every day, every possible consequence for every possible decision must be weighed. If I make the wrong choice, something dreadful will happen. So I mustn’t make that choice. Though the second choice might result in something equally dreadful. Even the third…This is how the days go, how the ...
Submitted to Contest #63
North Carolina is 1,332 miles away according to the online map I’m looking at. The flight time isn’t too bad, but driving would be an all-day event. Possibly longer the way Sarah drives. She insists on stopping anytime she sees something that looks fun and, preferably, inexpensive. It makes for a great adventure when I’m in the mood for it yet a long trip when I’m in a hurry. I took it for granted, though. I never thought we’d live so far apart that we couldn’t take random road trips. I expected the business of work, marriage, maybe even kid...
Submitted to Contest #61
Chantelle didn’t usually leave much at Cory’s house. Once in a while she forgot a jacket or, once, her housekey. She’d never asked to leave a toothbrush there, and he’d never offered, so she typically kept it, a change of clothes, and other potential necessities packed neatly in a satchel. That was why she was shocked when Cory emerged from his basement with a small flowered purse and interrupted her reading by tossing it at her. “Is that yours?” he asked. Chantelle held it and traced the stitching with her fingertips. “I haven’t seen th...
Submitted to Contest #59
Veronica stared up at the bright red signal on the only traffic light in Myersville. There was no cross traffic at the intersection, nor any across the road. She sighed and looked at the time. She had not missed this about her hometown.Myersville was the type of town that turned a blind eye to teen drinking but turned their noses up at sex ed. “My kids are smarter than that,” parents would say, assuming their teens had the inherent knowledge that condoms prevented pregnancy, assuming their teens would never cross that line to begin with.Vero...
Submitted to Contest #57
It’s all because of our bi-monthly teacher’s brunch that I’m sitting in my living room on a Saturday night, preparing to make a will. We met at Laurel Johnson’s house for the first time since January, all wearing face coverings until brunch was served. We sipped mimosas and talked about our fears of returning back to school when the subject came up. Everyone except me had made their final arrangements, citing coronavirus, the birth of children, or divorce as their motivations. I almost avoided being noticed until Laurel asked, “What about yo...
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