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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Aug, 2024
Submitted to Contest #292
A great artist once said, ‘Colour! What a deep and mysterious language, the language of dreams’. Depending on the situation or distraction, this philosophy unquestionably plays an integral part in Herbert Truelove’s meandering existence. Floating and gliding from one state of contented, colourful contemplation to the next, regardless of the consequences.It is Tuesday. Spring has just about sprung and a dapple of weak sunlight is finally threatening to break through the clouds that have been in perpetual domination since l...
Submitted to Contest #291
“That was my finest hour!” shrieks Anna across the table, almost knocking over Tina’s wine glass as she gesticulates wildly with her arms, animated as ever, even more so after we’ve gone through a few bottles of sauvignon blanc.“And then you fell asleep on the bus!” Elaine chimes in, her dark eyes sparkling in the light of the log fire that keeps our local pub warm as toast in the winter months.David the landlord sidles over from the bar in his usual nonchalant way. “You ladies having another bottle then?” he grins as he collects the em...
Submitted to Contest #290
The fading evening sky hovers gently above the place where the forest meets the moor and meadows. Small sounds of life scurry and hasten across the warming earth, whilst above, a brush stroke paints a vision of hazy blue, touched by the pinks and purples of early evening. The scented air of spring lies soft and still, holding everything in place for a single moment, a perpetual landscape. Villages and farms stretch away in the distance, held by pale strands of stratus that dips, touching the earth below. It is a time unde...
Submitted to Contest #289
Once, in a time not unlike ours, in a nearby land, lived a man and a woman known as Mr and Mrs Fleet. They inhabited a house that was neat and modest in size, positioned within a row of other neat and modest sized houses with tidy gardens to the rear and well presented driveways to the front. The residents of these houses, much like their homes, were orderly, predictable and polite, going about their lives in a tidy and modest way. To any casual observer, everything appeared exactly as it should - regular and routine, with ...
Submitted to Contest #288
The solitary figure had been leaning on the wall across the road for at least an hour, with no company except for the lone jackdaw that hopped from one door to the next. Stella peered anxiously around the corner of her living room window, glad of the voile curtain that afforded her a little privacy. The figure’s head bent downwards against the deluge of rain that had set in earlier that afternoon, their face hidden beneath the tent-like hood of a yellow mackintosh. Their hands were stuffed into deep pockets, feet in long rubbe...
Submitted to Contest #287
Gillian carried the tray of trembling white porcelain between the tables of the busy cafe, heading towards the corner and the only empty seat. Once settled at the formica table, on a small, unnecessarily hard chair, she set out her tea things, poured a cup from the bullet shaped teapot and sighed, closing her eyes momentarily. ‘How a cramped little cafe can be such a source of bliss,’ she thought to herself, and then reached into her bag and took out her paperback, placing it carefully on the table, establishing herself in the co...
Submitted to Contest #286
Doran had never travelled beyond the village before, and as he stood at the edge of the narrow dirt track winding into the distant hills, he was filled with anticipation of the journey ahead. The two sheep, destined for market in the neighbouring village, tugged gently at their ropes and Doran felt a swell of pride at the responsibility his father had bestowed on him with this important task, but his mother’s parting words had instilled a lingering sense of trepidation in the young man. "Stay on the path," she’d warned him that m...
Submitted to Contest #285
”Any sausages left mum?” I swirl the stubby end of my last sausage in the cooling gravy, catching bits of mashed potato clinging to the edge of the plate. “All gone Mark, need to save some for your dad,” mum at the sink, tipping frying pan fat into an empty baked bean can. “He’s on a late shift, will be home later.” She covers the sausages, mash, and gravy with an upside-down plate and sets it on the cooker, ready to warm over boiling water when Dad gets home. I keep telling them to get a microwave, everyone else has one but mum ...
Submitted to Contest #284
“I can’t believe we’re finally here,” Sally lifted another box onto the kitchen table and began unpacking more crockery, “the way the solicitors dragged their feet, I never thought we’d move in on time.”“Well, we’re here now,” said Pete, putting down his drill and hugging his wife, nuzzling her neck beneath her dark hair.“Hey, no time for that, get on with putting up those shelves,” said Sally playfully, pushing Pete away, “it would be nice to get things sorted and unpacked, I thought we might go to the village pub later, show our faces, mee...
Submitted to Contest #283
For a moment, Hannah stood by her car at the end of the driveway, cold white flakes falling silently around her, reminding her of childhood, when Christmas had felt soft and light, frosted with the essence of secrets and mystery. At the top of the drive, an expensive looking Range Rover belonging to Peter, her brother-in-law, looked down at Hannah’s battered old Renault, which sat meekly close to the roadside, an appropriate distance away from the house.Hannah curled her cold fingers around the handles of the bag of gifts, took a deep b...
Submitted to Contest #281
Another knock at the door and Susan hastened down the hallway to welcome her friends. “Come in, Alice, Bobby, oh, I love that dress, wine, oh thank you!” “How are you Susan? It’s been ages since we’ve seen you.” “Oh, you know, here, give me your coats, Darren, Darren?! Can you get a drink for Alice and Bobby please?” “Hello you two, good to see you! What will it be Bob? Beer, whisky? G and T Alice?” Darren led Alice and Bobby to the modest, mid-century living room where the other friends and neighbours wer...
Submitted to Contest #280
”Is anyone sitting here?” Harriet looked up at the older woman standing at the other end of the bench. “No, not that I can see,” she responded, thinking to herself ‘does it look like anyone’s sitting there?’ Her day had been hectic and she desperately wanted to get home. The woman sat down, fussing her fur coat around her, and shifting her ample bosom into place. “I hear the train to Foschester is delayed, how bothersome.” “Yes, it is, I’m not sure what’s happening,” Harriet glanced at the woman and then resumed her gaze on the d...
Submitted to Contest #279
“So yeah, it’s all good, just so long as his wife doesn’t find out,” my friend, Lucy, is updating me on her latest conquest. She always was a one for the boys and now that she’s in her fifties, nothing’s changed, flitting from one bloke to the next, but that’s her way and a sight raising of my eyebrows is the most I ever respond with. None of us is perfect. “Anyway,” she continues, sipping her flat white spiced cinnamon something or other, “what are you up to tonight whilst Justin’s away? Got anything planned?” she adds wit...
Submitted to Contest #278
She grasps for something, anything to cling to, as the maelstrom increases its ferocity, shattering Sophie’s world into fractured pieces. But there is nothing and no one to catch her, and she stumbles downwards, numbed and tortured, further and deeper she spirals, twisting into the dark unknown towards the locked door that she’s never dared approach and whose handle she would never turn. Now the door shudders open on screeching hinges, releasing a tempest that swirls around Sophie’s blinded eyes, her ears deafened by the howling, t...
Submitted to Contest #277
Over the centuries, many mortals and fools, have attempted to reach the remote village of Whalescliffe, nestled far between the rocks, forest and sea, protected from the kingdom beyond. Memories of the small hamlet, only accessible from land through the ancient forests, are now lost to time and few have heard stories of the tiny community perched beneath the cliffs, looking out across the cold Elfin Sea. The hidden trails, once woven across the forest floor, are now gone, free from uninvited visitors for longer than living memory. ...
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