Menu

Prompts

Directory Contests Magazine FAQ

Apps

reedsymarketplace

Hire professionals for your project

reedsyblog

Advice, insights and news

reedsylearning

Online publishing courses

reedsylive

Free publishing webinars

reedsydiscovery

Launch your book in style

Bestseller Podcast Book Cover Art Success Stories

Tools

Book Promotion Sites Book Review Blogs Booktube Channel Guide Book Title Generator Character Name Generator Independent Publishers Literary Agents Literary Magazines Pen Name Generator Plot Generator Publishers Directory Short Story Ideas Writing Contests Writing Exercises Writing Scholarships

Menu

Prompts

Contests

Stories

Blog

Directory

Contests

Magazine

FAQ

Rese Coleman

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Aug, 2023

Stories (5)

Comments

Library

2 Followers

3 Following

5 Stories

89 karma pts

?

The Last Rental

Rese Coleman

Submitted to Contest #293

"Almost forty dollars for a fucking DVD?"I breathe in deeply. Half-eaten chicken nuggets and spoiled milk. The car used to smell like pine before the kids turned it into their trash can. I could vomit, but I’m used to their stench. Years of spit-up and the worst diaper blowouts never broke my stomach.My fingers search through the chaos of my purse. The shiny black pleather has worn away in places, revealing its gray fabric skeleton. I dig out a tiny cologne sample from between the receipts and tissues. The bottle is nearly empty, but I lift ...

9 likes

It's Everywhere. It's Yellow

Rese Coleman

Submitted to Contest #292

“It’s everywhere… It’s yellow… I need you. I-” "Damn it, Judith," I mutter. My voice scrapes against my throat. I try to breathe, but my hands are shaking. Hot tears slip off my chin, pooling on the edge of my phone. In the glow of the porch light, they look mockingly yellow. No matter how often I blink, Judith’s text doesn't change. The message is thirty minutes old and still doesn't make any sense. My knuckles turn white against the steering wheel. I pry my fingers free, forcing myself to open the glove compartment. The rubber gloves sit i...

9 likes

scratches on my vinyl... the melody is love

Rese Coleman

Submitted to Contest #290

1996. Chicago. The Red Mill. Hot. Sticky. Sunday. That night, I fell in love with Daniella Rae. Or maybe I’d always been. I remember the sun was long gone, but the heat wouldn’t leave. All the hours I spent pressing the kinks out of my hair had gone to waste. My roots reverted from the sweat. My heart was pounding against my ribcage as my feet slammed against the pavement. Malcolm was up ahead, his tiny head bobbing. The mill was still blocks away, but music was spilling onto the streets. It was so loud that in a different neighborhood, they...

7 likes

The Stairs and Her Tears

Rese Coleman

Submitted to Contest #226

Trigger Warning: Themes of sexual violence and death. “Crying is between you and God at night.” Her sobbing at night still played in my ears as clearly as a bird's chirp in the morning, but there was no denying that it was her body. I was no older than eight when I found my aunt Tesha’s body on the staircase: lifeless, melanated but somehow pale, puffy red eyes, and cracked lips. Those weren’t from death, but from the time she spent crying. She would let her tears slide off her face and onto the floor. That’s how my grandmother put it. “...

5 likes

There was a Roach In the Peach Tree

Rese Coleman

Submitted to Contest #213

Trigger Warning: Death, Grief, and ColorismThe milky white mucus that would leak from her eyes had left lines carved into her face. A face I would only ever describe as hypnotically gorgeous was now contorted into a strange expression. My dull brain can’t come up with a fitting explanation for this. The only thing that comes to mind is that it was from an infection. Or perhaps the anguish of taking her final breaths. All that pain made the moisture in her body turn into an indistinguishable whiteness. It was like the clouds of her eventual r...

6 likes