Patrick Samuel

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Sep, 2021

Stories (7)

7 Stories

592 karma pts

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“The Naked Truth” by Patrick Samuel

Submitted to Contest #202

Whatever the Countess expected, it wasn’t the modest cottage (modest by her standards at least) that appeared among the foliage. A doll’s house, pale green shutters on white walls made whiter by the glare of the afternoon sun, tucked away in the lush garden where bushes had been allowed to grow wild. She did not recognize Arthur’s touch in any of this and suspected that some choices had been made for him.Neither did she expect the door to be answered by a rosy-cheeked young woman in an apron. The surprise must have been mutual. The maid was ...

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“Never Tear Us Apart” by Patrick Samuel

Submitted to Contest #161

Daniel folds his clothes carefully, putting them one by one in the backpack so they won’t crease on the trip back. It’s the mirror image of the ritual he did exactly one year ago, he reflects, when he had been preparing to leave home.“One year from now, it will be over,” he had thought then, aware he didn’t know exactly what “it” would entail. His younger, more innocent self thought that at worst “it” would mean twelve months of drudgery and annoying nonsense, to be put behind and forgotten as soon as they were done.But there is no way to kn...

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“Dead men don't give a f***” by Patrick Samuel

Submitted to Contest #155

[Warning: Language. Mention of Dead People.]You know those films where people are too stupid to realize they’re dead? I’ve got the opposite problem: people are too stupid to realize I’m dead.“What do you mean by ‘dead’?” Her voice like an ad for benevolent neutrality.“I mean dead as opposed to alive. How many meanings are there to ‘dead’?”“It can have several meanings” says she, ever so cool. “Why choose this one?”Note to self: never get into a war of words with a shrink.“Choice has nothing to do with it,” I spit out. “If I could choose, I w...

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“Everybody lives for the music” by Patrick Samuel

Submitted to Contest #149

[warning: it wouldn't be a story without sensitive content.]I turn on the ignition. When I feel the motorbike vibrating under me, I tell myself: this must be what sex is like with someone you truly love. Not that I would know.I make the engine roar, once, twice, to drown out all the thoughts I know are coming. When that’s not enough, I press “play” on my Walkman. Pretty soon the synths start up and I’m on a highway of sounds. Bright lights, the music gets faster. And it never fails to conjure up all that I can’t face in silence.Lik...

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“The Journey Home” by Patrick Samuel

Submitted to Contest #132

“Are you a believer?” asked the monk who showed him to his room. Before Thomas could answer, the little man added hastily: “I’m sorry, it’s none of my business.”Thomas smiled thinly. “Actually,” he said, “I’m mostly here for the peace and quiet.”The monk nodded: “A good thing. Even mealtimes are silent here. You are of course welcome to talk outside of the monastery’s walls. But overall you’ll find silence a welcome break from the world.”Thomas couldn’t have agreed more.*“You won’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” Bernard had assured ...

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“Southern Comfort and the Kindness of Strangers” by Patrick Samuel

🏆 Winner of Contest #123

(Warning: contains spoilers for A Streetcar Named Desire and The Glass Menagerie.)She stands proud and defiant, glass in hand. The tiara on her head sparkling, eyes burning with feverish gaiety. The stage lights blind her but that's the price you pay to dazzle. Though she can't see them, she feels the audience holding on to her every word, her every breath: the kind of communion you'd damn your soul for. She plays them like an instrument, modulating her performance on their response. It's like swimming every night on a constantly changing se...

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“Have No Fear, Love” by Patrick Samuel

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #115

When she opens her eyes, all she sees is gray. The gray of a summer storm right before it breaks. Then she remembers that summer is long gone and that she must get up, no matter how much she longs to bury her face in the pillow and forget about the world for just a moment more.Making breakfast in the dark, to save the generator. Like a moth to a flame, her gaze strays towards the kitchen window and the garden outside. A beautiful garden despite everything, she tells herself. You'd never know anyone is buried there.*Lea is still asleep when N...

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Author bio

French guy, currently living in the City of Lights and wondering where they all went. At 10 I read Agatha Christie's "And Then There Were None" and realized I was alone in a big remote house on an island. The next year I read M.R. James' "Casting The Runes" and prayed I was alone in that bed. At 15 I discovered Tennessee Williams and realized I wasn't as alone as I thought. In my twenties I discovered James Baldwin and knew I would never be alone again.

Winning 1 story 🏆

Contest #123

Southern Comfort and the Kindness of Strangers – read story

Shortlisted 1 story ⭐️

Contest #115

Have No Fear, Love – read story