Patricia Williford

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Feb, 2023

Stories (9)

9 Stories

174 karma pts

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“Goin' Places” by Patricia Williford

Submitted to Contest #255

Goin' Places   The first time I ever saw Mr. Emmett Crawford, he was hunched over a bed of red and yellow pansies, smothering them up to their necks with damp sawdust while autumn leaves covered the rest of the ground.   “Morning, sir!” I hollered, “You just move in?”  “Yep, just this past weekend. Pretty nice place. We moved up here to be close to my son. You lived here long?”  “All my life, actually,” I sighed. “I can't imagine what it'd be like to move to a new place.”&nbsp...

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“Goin' Places” by Patricia Williford

Submitted to Contest #209

Goin' Places   The first time I ever saw Mr. Emmett Crawford, he was hunched over a bed of red and yellow pansies, smothering them up to their necks with damp sawdust while autumn leaves covered the rest of the ground.    “Morning, sir!” I hollered, “You just move in?”   “Yep, just this past weekend. Pretty nice place. We moved up here to be close to my son. You lived here long?”   “All my life, actually,” I sighed. “I can't imagine what it'd be like to move to a new place....

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“The Ultimate Facade” by Patricia Williford

Submitted to Contest #207

THE ULTIMATE FACADE   I drew in a long, deep breath, sucked my tiny, crepe covered wings back into the porous bone of my shoulder blades, and slid screaming out into the cold, bright world. I innately knew I couldn’t keep my feathers on this journey, so I had delighted in their presence while I still had them, fluttering around in twists and turns as my mother rubbed her stomach trying to rid herself of digestive distress.  I didn’t mean to cause her concern, of course. I knew my purpose was to bring joy. Bu...

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“Losing My Treasures” by Patricia Williford

Submitted to Contest #206

LOSING MY TREASURES   They are coming today to take it all away. Their battalion of army ants will strip me of my possessions and my value. Their mops and brooms will wash away my defenses. They will rip the very life out of my soul and leave me without the armor that has shielded me for so long. There will be no way to protect myself. Everything that I have lovingly collected, stored away for rainy days, and caressed with my eyes and hands each day as I walk the narrow but ample pathway from room to room...

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“The Moon and the Mind” by Patricia Williford

Submitted to Contest #205

THE MOON AND THE MIND   They say the crevasses of the mind expand with a full moon.  Tiny fissures that snake through the cerebral cortex in all of us widen and grow with the pull of the tides. For many, this just creates a widened arena for the boundless joy and wonder they feel when gazing into the bright night sky. But for some, these growing, empty spaces in the brain are ripe for contamination by the world’s tilted, irrelevant logic or just provide fertile ground for the seed of disarrayed thoughts planted thr...

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“Stalked” by Patricia Williford

Submitted to Contest #204

STALKED   I really can’t remember exactly when I began this journey. I guess the quest might have beckoned me with its outstretched hand right after high school graduation, when I was ripe for adventure and enlightenment. At that time my mind was an open vessel just thirsting to be filled. The road materialized beneath my feet, and I was strolling along its blacktop before I took the time to realize that my legs were moving. But then again, my expedition might have begun even earlier, nurtured by small seeds o...

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“Good Hot Pizza” by Patricia Williford

Submitted to Contest #202

Good Hot Pizza Howard perched himself precariously on the large, dirt covered boulder in his side yard, planted the edge of his size twelve work boots into the small crevasse at the stone's base, and watched his house burn. He rubbed his stiff, leathered hands over the earth that clung desperately to the rock. A cloud of sandy dust rose into the air above his overalls and mixed with the coal-colored smoke that was now pouring from the four-room shotgun shack that had been his home for the last forty years. Skinny flames began t...

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“The Island” by Patricia Williford

Submitted to Contest #197

THE ISLAND   Two young men, their faces sleek and vibrant as sunlight, lifted the dull, rumpled old man onto the boat. The motor idled restlessly, ready to race its powerful legs across the water. The old man licked the sea mist from his parched lips, the salt burning the sores on his tongue. A woman standing on the dock, wearing a white dress and matching hat, let go of the two children she had been holding back and cupped her hands around her red-penciled mouth.   “Goodbye, Papa.”   “Goodbye...

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“SOCKS” by Patricia Williford

Submitted to Contest #186

S  O     CKS “Well, I know it’s    not that much, son.        Of course, I figured you could take          the money there in the envelope and             buy want you wanted, but I did want to get you a little something to go with the cash.” “Good Lord,    Dot, how many       pairs of socks is it? You  &n...

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