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Ria Cabral

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jun, 2025

Stories (7)

Comments

Library

4 Followers

1 Following

7 Stories

125 karma pts

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New Auror

Ria Cabral

Submitted to Contest #318

In the distant future, the world was a vastly different place. Cities floated in the sky, and cars flew through the air like birds. Everything was bright and shiny, but beneath this shiny veneer lay a chilling struggle for survival. In this world lived a young girl named Mia. Mia was sixteen years old, with wild, curly hair and bright green eyes that sparkled with curiosity. She worked in a small junkyard on the outskirts of the bustling city of New Auror, where old vehicles were torn apart to salvage any useful parts. This place was far fr...

4 likes

The Watcher on Fifth

Ria Cabral

Submitted to Contest #317

Lena Maxwell always thought New York moved too fast for anyone to notice the small details, the quiet ripples beneath the surface. But that evening, the city slowed, as if the world itself had been inhaled and was holding its breath.She left her office in Midtown at nine, as she always did, the streets still crowded but the hum of business winding down. She liked to walk home, past the neon-smeared signs of corner diners, the street performers packing up their guitars, the sharp tang of wet asphalt after a sudden rain.Tonight, though, someth...

3 likes

The Double

Ria Cabral

Submitted to Contest #317

Ethan Ward had not stepped into the café in years. Not since the accident, not since the slow unraveling of what he once believed was a sturdy, unshakable life. He had walked past it plenty of times, catching whiffs of roasted beans and cinnamon buns carried by the wind, but he never crossed the threshold. Avoidance had become a habit. The café was where he and Julia used to sit with steaming mugs and stacks of crossword puzzles, laughing over her quick wit and his slower guesses. She had been gone five years now, but the place was haunted b...

4 likes

The Clockmaker’s Gift

Ria Cabral

Submitted to Contest #317

Elias Mercer had never believed in miracles. The rain had been relentless all day, hammering the cobblestones of the old town like an anxious heartbeat. He trudged through puddles, umbrella failing him, toward the shop tucked between two collapsing brownstones—a relic of a city that had long since forgotten its own past.The sign above the door read simply: Hawthorne’s Timepieces.Inside, the air smelled of polished wood, oil, and something older… something that hummed faintly, like the memory of centuries. Rows of clocks lined the walls, each...

8 likes

Shadows in the Rain

Ria Cabral

Submitted to Contest #317

The city had a way of swallowing people whole. Claire knew that, had always known it, but she had convinced herself that she’d outrun the shadows. Rain slicked streets reflected neon signs in fractured, trembling colors, and the wind carried the wail of sirens, the hum of traffic, and the occasional shout from someone unlucky enough to be caught outside.She rounded the corner near the old warehouse district, the storm having come without warning, and the umbrella in her hand barely keeping her coat dry. Then she saw him.A figure leaned casua...

15 likes

Solstice Sound Festival

Ria Cabral

Submitted to Contest #308

In the heart of summer, the sprawling fields outside the city buzzed with anticipation. The annual Solstice Sound Festival was in full swing, a kaleidoscope of colors, music, and laughter stretching as far as the eye could see. Among the crowd, two strangers found themselves drawn together by the rhythm of the day. Lila was a spirited girl with a wild mane of curls and an infectious smile that captured the very essence of the festival. She had come alone, seeking the freedom and magic that only a place like this could offer. Her eyes sparkl...

13 likes

Willow Creek Library

Ria Cabral

Submitted to Contest #307

The old attic of the Willow Creek Library was a place of forgotten things. Dust motes danced in the lone sunbeam that pierced through a crack in the boarded-up window, illuminating stacks of yellowed newspapers, discarded bookshelves, and relics of a bygone era. It was here, amidst the musty scent of decaying paper and aged wood, that Arthur Penhaligon found it. Arthur, a man of 52 with a perpetually inquisitive mind and a pair of spectacles perched precariously on his nose, was the head librarian. He'd always felt a peculiar connection to...

7 likes