Renate Buchner

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Mar, 2024

Stories (4)

4 Stories

135 karma pts

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“The Warthog, the rosty Subaru and Anna” by Renate Buchner

Submitted to Contest #249

Her old Subaru made a puffing noise every time she pressed the gas pedal, and it got much louder when she stepped on the brakes to stop in front of the gate. The guards raised their heads as they heard the screech of the brakes. There were three guards: one in the cabin at the Klaserie Private Nature Reserve entrance gate, and two outside approaching Anna, one of whom appeared to be the dog's handler. The guard holding the device walked towards her on the driver's side. He grimaced but said nothing further. He pointed to the reader, sim...

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“30 minutes” by Renate Buchner

Submitted to Contest #247

I rubbed my chilly thighs with my palms after spending so much time kneeling on wet, dewy grass; even the smallest movement of my legs hurt."Where are you, Lena?" I brushed the branches away to have a clear view of Hangar 2. I felt a thrill of warmth rush through my body as I saw the silhouette of the small, two-seat Robinson R22 Helicopter through the path lights.A short distance away, there was a rustling sound that made my pulse skip a beat. I crouched even lower, nearly lying on the ground. The sound approached gently. I paused my b...

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“The Sigmund-Thun-Gorge” by Renate Buchner

Submitted to Contest #244

He tilts his head slightly to the side and places his hand against the shell of his ear, but the thundering water drowns out the voice of the man standing opposite him. He gives a hand gesture, indicating a different direction. The other man nods and follows him over the crudely constructed wooden bridge, trembling and shivering as he holds on to the ropes that act as rails. The dampness that soaked the bridge's wooden slats rendered them soggy and each step felt like a passageway on a ship.Upon reaching the opposite bank, the man grasped th...

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“The Poor Poet” by Renate Buchner

Submitted to Contest #242

The walls of an ancient Scottish castle arranged with paintings of people, animals, and abstract figures began to come to life as darkness fell and froze as daylight returned. My aunt used to tell me this fairy tale all the time. Yes, it was a long time ago, and I have since gone to the museum several times at night to write down my thoughts. I even pursued it as a career. You could think I'm a loser. But I'm telling you, it's all true. Do not give me this look. I noticed you staring at me with your enlarged, weary eyes. The art historian's ...

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Author bio

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