Rob Ryter

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Oct, 2021

Stories (31)

31 Stories

630 karma pts

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“Goal” by Rob Ryter

Submitted to Contest #275

I have to stop the man. My guide told me. At any cost, I have to stop the man.That’s my purpose. I have to. I must stop the man making a mistake. A serious mistake. A life-ending mistake. I can stop him. I must stop him. It’s my goal. It’s the reason I’m here, now, pursuing him, chasing him, across time, across the nation, forever and ever, amen, until I stop him. It’s what I have to do. It just is. It’s what the guide told me.It’s grey here. I can’t feel my feet. The man drifts in and out. Sometimes I see him clearly. Other times, he’s in t...

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“The Smoking Room” by Rob Ryter

Submitted to Contest #272

I am sure it used to be here. Shit, there can’t be much of my break left. This is ridiculous. I get little enough free time as it is. Hell, one corridor looks just like another in this place. They’ve moved it again. They must have done. We used to have a proper smoking room with soft chairs and a water cooler, kettle, fridge and stuff. It’s no more than we’re entitled to. I know some people don’t smoke. I get that. But it’s about freedom of choice, isn’t it. You can choose whether you smoke or not. We won’t inflict our smoking on you. We’ll ...

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“Object Lesson” by Rob Ryter

Submitted to Contest #269

Sensitive content: suicide and assisted dying.A tear pricking the corner of her left eye, Fiona pressed the cool, disproportionately heavy metal-and-glass object into Rosemary’s palm. “Thank you, Rosemary,” she said, quietly, as both watched the mechanical, numerical display on the beautifully crafted, nineteenth-century timepiece click rapidly down from seven to zero, just as they had both known it would.Reclining into the capsule’s super-comfortable, ergonomically sculpted, reclined seat, Rosemary smiled up at Fiona. “I should be the ...

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“All He Ever Wanted” by Rob Ryter

Submitted to Contest #268

Sol Crabbe blinked. He blinked again and stretched stiffly, joints popping like an old man’s. It was dark. There was a weird yet familiar smell, like a hospital. Where was he? This was a peculiar place. He didn’t recognise it. He’d awoken here, wherever here was, and he had no idea how that had happened.  He was sitting - perhaps lolling fit better - in a high backed armchair, that felt like it was upholstered in vinyl or faux leather.  Sol’s mind snapped back to boyhood, when he’d often slept over at his grandma’s house. Befo...

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“Target” by Rob Ryter

Submitted to Contest #260

As the hunter and the soon-to-be victim converged, the searing purpose of dark intent blazed black in the killer’s heart. Unshaven and unwashed, the donkey-jacketed, thick-set, bearded man, black woollen beanie pulled down over his ears, remained locked onto his quarry, his face expressionless, his pace an unstoppable march of inevitability. The slim young blonde bounced jauntily on, swinging her designer bag, the embodiment of carefree and footloose. He was certain she was unaware of her pursuer. She could have no inking of his plans. God, ...

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“Journey's End” by Rob Ryter

Submitted to Contest #258

Ivan steered the beautifully smooth Mercedes E220 between the close kerbs of the single-track lane that led to the Long House, slowing for speed bumps and potholes, mindful of the fine machine’s low profile tyres and lean ground clearance. The car seemed to get smoother and quieter every mile he drove it. Right now, it was a few minutes after seven thirty in the evening. The early July Solway sun shone golden from a clear blue sky. The six-hour drive from south-west London had been the easiest he could remember in more than thirty years on t...

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“Rangefinder” by Rob Ryter

Submitted to Contest #238

Far within the dark panelled, richly furnished, insanely, recklessly safe lair of the Predator, the Client raised the lead crystal tumbler, luxuriating in its delicious heaviness, swirling the smoked amber nectar, inhaling the Islay malt’s rich, woody bouquet as the flickering flames from the hearth danced in its fiery depths. “Show me the tools of your trade,” she said. The Predator smiled. He had been anticipating this moment. He set down his own glass. The Client had probably guessed her host was drinking apple juice, or something equally...

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“Forgotten Tech” by Rob Ryter

Submitted to Contest #236

The Bains are a happy family of three. It’s a typical Saturday. Carl Bain and his twelve-year-old daughter Sylvia are having a day out at the local museum. Sylvia is intrigued by the cow cream jugs, moulded ceramic farm animals with a hole in their back for filling, and an open mouth for the spout. “Dad, it’s like the cows vomit the cream up,” Sylvia laughs. Carl smiles and gives his daughter’s shoulder a fatherly shove.In the next room, Carl stops. “Well, I’ll be…”Sylvia asks him what’s wrong.“Nothing,” he says. “It’s just the things in her...

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“Reversal” by Rob Ryter

Submitted to Contest #225

Sensitive content: Incest as a manifestation of evilIt was one minute to midnight, on Wednesday, 25th April, 1979, the eve of Oyna’s eighteenth birthday. Unforgiving and unblinking, Oyna’s ice-cold gaze slid, slowly and carefully, up and down the naked female body on bold, fully frontal display before her. Complemented by raven black, shoulder-long straight hair, her perfect, alabaster skin gave onto mathematically pure, smooth-shaded curves of breast, waist and rounded rear. Be it in the eye of the beholder or out there in the objectiv...

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“Gourmet” by Rob Ryter

Submitted to Contest #141

Sometimes, Tony Gordon reflected, the best pleasures in life are simple, and free. He basked in relief as he drained his bladder, visceral satisfaction enriched by the long, exquisite fart he simultaneously let rip. Just as well he was alone in the restaurant’s bathroom. The dark, heavy fetor embraced him like a lover as he finished and zipped.Washing his hands, his deflated colon and de-stressed waterworks lending him a strong sense of well being, he marvelled at the restorative power of simply emptying a couple of body cavities. Tony’s deg...

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“Kirkton Burn” by Rob Ryter

Submitted to Contest #136

“You’ll never know unless you try,” encouraged Gordon Ramsay, as they watched the silver streaked water bubbling in the moonlight. They were a little way off from the rest of the group, the gurgle of the burn mingling with the distant chatter and laughter. A faint tang of smoke - bonfire, tobacco, and other substances - drifted across in the still air. It was Friday 12 August, 2022. Kirkton Burn had become a regular weekend gathering place for the group of friends, all in S5 at Thursfield High. Aged 17, they were due to take their Highers t...

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“Don’t Look Back” by Rob Ryter

Submitted to Contest #135

Simeon Dharsh twirled his glass and shook his head. “I don’t buy it,” he said, with decisive finality. “I mean, if the universe is run by an all-powerful deity, why is there suffering and death? Who makes bad shit happen?”Shona Drien tried her best not to look condescending. “Simeon, it’s way more complicated than that. God is all-powerful, yes, but there is still evil, sin and wickedness in the world. That state of affairs is reconciled by theodicy, the vindication of God. You see, it has to be that way. There simply must be suffering, for ...

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“Distant Horizon” by Rob Ryter

Submitted to Contest #134

2068: Destination I got the best view in the god-damned solar system. From here, I can pinch the whole shebang between my thumb and first finger; sun, planets and all. And I got the rest of my life to enjoy it. Human eyes have never before seen this blue and black horizon. It goes from pale sunrise to full dark every forty-five minutes. The Sun is pretty weak here, though you still wouldn’t want to stare at it without your shades. At this distance, anything I send home takes four and a half hours, more or less, at the speed of light. I su...

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“Das Gift” by Rob Ryter

Submitted to Contest #133

Friday, 7 May, 2021Behind tightly clenched eyelids, Bastian Schulz summoned a painful vision of ash blonde and sapphire blue, pert, cheeky and gorgeous, beneath a white woollen cap. Their last winter, a mere memory now. And there would never be another. He dared not open his eyes, for he knew his tears, already hotly prickling, would flow down his face and betray him.A sudden explosion of breaking crockery shook his resolve. He blinked as everything swam into focus. Another crash, as a teacup shattered, hurled with considerable force to the ...

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“Mutuality” by Rob Ryter

Submitted to Contest #132

In the garden“Are you there, Lord? It’s me, Amelie.”It has been a long night in the garden. She has spent every hour in prayer, with barely a break.The gnarled olive trees stay mute, save for the hiss of the dawn wind through their branches, upper twigs waving like the thin, sharp-nailed fingers of a demented witch as she casts a hex on one who threatens her peace.And then Amelie sees the tall figure, at the far end of the grove, throughthe limbs and foliage. Smiling, bearded, white-robed, hands clasped, glowing in the morning sun. Open-arme...

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Author bio

2nd career writer

Shortlisted 2 stories ⭐️

Contest #125
Late Forever, Amen – read story
Contest #119
Legacy – read story