Rob Taylor

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Feb, 2024

Stories (4)

4 Stories

131 karma pts

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“The Vanishing Of Daniel Cravens” by Rob Taylor

Submitted to Contest #269

In the charming enclave of Willowbrook, nestled deep within the timeworn attic of a centuries-old manor, resides a curious young soul named Daniel Cravens. One fateful day, his wandering gaze falls upon an ancient journal, its weathered leather cover exuding an enigmatic allure that ensnares his imagination. With a gentle sweep of his hand, Daniel cleared the delicate veils of cobwebs clinging to the journal, cradling it in his palms as though it were a fragile relic. The weight of it transcended mere physicality, encompassing the gravity of...

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“Shadows Of The Soul ” by Rob Taylor

Submitted to Contest #263

Shadows Of The Soul In a dimly lit kitchen, a disheveled little girl sat at the table, surrounded by remnants of a violently disturbed breakfast - a torn box of corn flakes, an empty bowl, and a carton of spilled milk dripping off the table. A tall, hardened monster hunter named Ethan Gunn, clad in old military gear, stood firm at the kitchen door, his gaze locked on the child with cautious vigilance. Ethan's voice carried a mixture of exasperation and disbelief as he uttered, "When I got up today, all I wanted was my bowl of corn fla...

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“Liora; An Ugly Duckling Tale” by Rob Taylor

Submitted to Contest #255

In a quiet glade where the willows weep and the river whispers secrets, there once lived a duckling named Liora. Liora, with her patchy feathers and awkward waddle, endured the jeers of the pond creatures every day. "Ugly," the sleek mallards quacked, their voices dripping with scorn. "Freak," echoed the frogs from their lily pads, their croaks harsh and mocking. Liora bore these taunts in silence, her heart heavy yet hopeful. She often sought solace under a grand willow tree by the riverbank, its drooping branches creating a hidden sanctuar...

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“Compassion Amidst Desolation ” by Rob Taylor

Submitted to Contest #254

The screams and shouts of agony have faded away. The wind whips across the body-laden grasses, carrying with it the scent of death and decay. The cries of the dying cut through the wind only to be buried in its cold, empty silence. The grasses are patches of crimson red glistening towards the sun, a haunting reminder of the blood spilled this day.A lone man steps cautiously through the blood-stained bodies. His name is Marcus, a seasoned warrior with a face weathered by countless battles. He's shirtless, covered in mud, blood, and swea...

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