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A weekly short story contest
Author on Reedsy Prompts since Oct, 2019
Submitted to Contest #104
Yue didn’t torture Yang per say, but she enjoyed keeping the girl on her toes from time to time. Times like tonight, with the full moon round like a dinner plate, feeding the crevices and alleyways of the city below with a soft white glow. Was there really anything better to do than to run barefoot across construction beams? Yang’s ponytail bounced behind her head. “I need to be down there!” she said, gasping. Chestnut bangs swung messily, covering her forehead. “They need me for the opening ceremony.” In response, Yue’s long chalky fing...
Submitted to Contest #39
People had too much to say about stars, the way he saw it. Out here, after night classes, he could see couples kissing, children running, old men with scraggly beards strolling and pointing – all with something to say about the salt specks littering that vast expanse of darkness above. Their voices would fall onto a bed of cool air. Then these would fall between the hairs of grass, where he often lay down, relaxing after a test.Guren would plug in his earphones, and think about the people thinking about stars.One of these nights, after Frenc...
Submitted to Contest #16
Kara’s hands were sticky. It was a thing she noticed absently, rubbing the sludge between two palms as she surveyed the tunnel. Half of it was wax, fallen from her candle. The other half, she didn’t want to think about. She noticed it, just as she noticed that there were three open doors, branching off, that there were ornate fixtures on the wall, now devoid of their torches, that there were bats squealing somewhere above. Then there was the dungeon vault, now behind her, cold and inky black.She pinched a bit of slime off her palm and tossed...
🏆 Winner of Contest #14
It was just a week that the capital spent without Marcus. These were long days, in the middle of August, when the stinging sheets of rain left most sane people huddling like hedgehogs underneath the pale white domes of their houses. Petrichor wafted through heavy air. Rich and thick, the scent marked the tail-end of one such shower as Con made his way through the city.Con despised to walk alone. He remembered this now, especially, dragging the wagon of supplies over his shoulders. Had he not lost the horse, he would be at headquarters by now...
A student and hobbyist writer.
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