Rebecca Nestor

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Sep, 2020

Stories (4)

4 Stories

105 karma pts

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“Sober in the City ” by Rebecca Nestor

Submitted to Contest #112

CW: drug useThe last of the cricket's song was fading and dawn was on the horizon. I laid in bed watching the sun peek over the Phoenix skyline. Dew glistened sharply on the blades of grass causing me to squint my already heavy eyelids. Everything outside my small window was shiny and sleek. There is always an air of newness after the first rain of monsoon season washes away the layers of a full years worth of dust.I stepped out on the balcony and slowly peeled the cellophane off a new pack of 99s. The smell of fresh clay hung heavy in the h...

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“The Oak King ” by Rebecca Nestor

Submitted to Contest #90

June's alzheimers has gotten bad, but she is mostly joyful nonetheless. There is somthing she always talks about, but I'm not sure what it means. She tells me about an old king with a three pronged crown atop his head. "Im sure he still has the scars we gave him that day," she always says. She tells me that as a child she would sit by the window in the afternoon sun for hours staring at this royal giant, the king of green, and Imagine him calling out decrees in his booming voice. When it would storm, she would pretend that there was a royal ...

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“Transplanted Grass” by Rebecca Nestor

Submitted to Contest #85

I could remember stepping out of the airport for the first time and sheilding my eyes from the sun, like a lazy salute to the blue Virginia sky. This land had long been tamed and industrialized. That's the thing about this city, it's rich history, dusty buildings, and bumper to bumper traffic seem to be all it has to offer and I could see right away that what I had feared wasn't too far off from reality. Unfortuntly, there weren't any small drive-thru coffee shops, There wasn't anyone on the side of the road selling hand-knitted blankets and...

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“A Convenient Kill” by Rebecca Nestor

Submitted to Contest #65

Built in 1894 it has doorways meant for people who used to be a little bit shorter. Long lonely hallways stretch to rooms in which hundred year dust has settled in every nook and cranny. I used to have a maid to gently sweep it away, but she has long since returned to the soil. Now the house lay almost barren expect for a few choice paintings that probably belong in a museum and quite minimal furniture. The echos of every creak and groan of old wood reverberates, amplified by the big open space. If walls could yearn, these ones would cry out...

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Author bio

I have a passion for creating stories that are deeply personal, yet entirely relatable. My work has appeared in Levitate, Red Weather, Rue Scribe, and Awakenings.