Robin Owens

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Apr, 2020

Stories (17)

17 Stories

378 karma pts

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“No Ordinary Sign” by Robin Owens

“Listen,” Tara mouths and tap-taps her finger to her earlobe. I resist rolling my eyes because she’s my best friend, and she can get away with more than most. When anyone else tells me to listen, I punch them in the face (in my mind) because they should know better.I’m deaf. I can’t hear you, idiots.“Becca overheard Rick telling Alex that he likes you. Like, likes you likes you.” Tara says this aloud faster than she can misspell our classmates’ names with her fingers. She uses...

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“Driving Blind” by Robin Owens

My Dear Isabella, I’m writing to explain the large sum of money that has suddenly materialized for you and your brothers. Now, you know your grandmother to be a woman of modest means, so I imagine the news of your newfound small fortune has come as quite a shock! To best explain, I should like to share a story I’ve kept largely to myself for the past several decades. New York City, January...

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“Mary and Kate” by Robin Owens

Her phone keeps going straight to voicemail. “Hey, it’s me. You can leave a message, but I’d prefer a massage.” Massage. I was with her when she set up that recording. We giggled, though admittedly tipsy, and I assumed she’d change it later. She never did. It usually makes me smile, but today it’s unnerving. I let myself into her house a few minutes ago with my own key. I can tell it’s empty by t...

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“Letters to Grange” by Robin Owens

I let myself in after ringing the doorbell one time. At most homes I wouldn’t do this; I’d just leave the groceries on the front stoop. But I decide to waltz right into Mr. Granger’s house for a few reasons. One: he always leaves the front door unlocked, which he argues is intentional, and I retort that he is becoming forgetful in his old age. Two: I like to linger here in this quaint home, however...

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“A Mother's Gift” by Robin Owens

“I had one of those chilling dreams again,” I told my sister over breakfast. She was standing at the stovetop frying an egg. I was sitting at the bar, casually buttering my toast, so I didn’t immediately notice her turn and look at me with wide eyes. “What?” I asked when I saw her, surprised at her reaction. I set the knife down and took a bite. “Jenny, these are happening more and more of...

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“Martha and Sarah” by Robin Owens

With sweaty palms, Martha opened her borrowed attaché case and slipped her resumé out to review it while she waited on a pew bench in the extravagant lobby. This would be her third interview that week, and her nerves were nearly frayed. She would be showing in no time, and she knew no one would hire a pregnant woman. Martha had stuttered during the second interview and had fought back tears as she walked home in defeat. ...

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“Lemon Drop” by Robin Owens

I knocked several lemons off the display as I dug for the brightest, most perfect one. “No, no, no,” I whispered as I bent down to clean up the mess, hoping to avoid attention. I didn’t want a pearl-clutching customer to notice I was drunk and alert a manager. I was craving a lemon drop martini to top off my sad, lonely night of pub-hopping, and I didn’t want to pay a premium for the cocktail at a bar. So, in an act of f...

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“The Visitor” by Robin Owens

“Your bone supplement, Ms. Tenley.” The nurse handed an antidepressant to Caroline Tenley who flashed a look of uncertainty to the eyes of the visitor sitting next to her.“It’s okay. Go ahead,” the visitor said to Ms. Tenley, knowing full well this was no bone supplement but hoping her encouragement would soothe Ms. Tenley’s doubts. Caroline Tenley, who would turn 87 the next day and lived in an assisted living facility, needed the antidepressant desperately as her dementia continued to set in more and more each month. S...

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“Aisle Eight” by Robin Owens

Aisle eight is where I come to cry. It’s the catchall aisle housing paperbacks, obscure medicines, batteries, lightbulbs, and, of course, greeting cards. The cards draw me to them like magnets every time, even if I had only intended to come to the store for milk. I stand facing the seven rows and nineteen columns of greetings of all varieties. The birthday wishes, the thank-yous, and the graduation kudos all mean nothing...

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“Black Panamera” by Robin Owens

2:53pm This HOV lane is about to end, and Adam is not going to make it out. Main-lane traffic is crawling up ahead. He is going to try to squeeze in between the cars like a pastry slipping into a toaster, but it’s not going to work. And if it’s not going to work for Adam, it won’t work for me because I’m right behind him. I have already calculated the time we have left before the exit based on our ...

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“She Did It” by Robin Owens

I’m disgusted by her doe eyes and half grin that she had plastered onto her face during the entire trial. She’s a psychopath, possibly demon-possessed. I’m the only one who knows the truth. She knows that I know. That’s why she was able to bat those flashy eyelashes and look everyone in the eye in the courtroom, the judge, the jury, even my husband’s mother, and never once could bring herself to look at me. She knew wher...

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“A Ghost Monologue” by Robin Owens

It’s shocking when the person in your thoughts suddenly appears before you. I know this because I’m doing it to you right now, and you look mortified. How did I know I was in your thoughts? I knew because I know everything now that I’m dead. And I know that you killed me. You wanted to for a long time. I saw it in your eyes. You never said anything. I never said anything. It was an unspoke...

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“The Book Box” by Robin Owens

The frustration took hold of me, tensing up my whole body, so to shake it off I had to get outside. I grabbed my hat and my house key, checked my beard in the hall mirror, noticed my bloodshot eyes, took off down the front walk, and promptly forgot if I had locked the door or not. So, I trotted back up the walk and up the porch steps to check. I had. This was another point of proof that I needed to clear my head. ...

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“Twenty-Six Candles” by Robin Owens

Today is my 26th birthday. I’m walking back to my mom’s house from the grocery store to celebrate with my family. These grocery bags are heavy, but I feel light. It’s a Friday in May in Georgia, so it’s humid and hot. The sun is beating down on my brown skin, and this is when I feel most alive, when I’m walking or running outside. Free. The sun only thinks it’s a tour de force, a powerful skin darkener. But my flesh and I have proven it wrong time and time again, staying the way we always have been, splitting the middle between...

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“Tall, Dark, and Hot” by Robin Owens

Monday, June 15thYesterday, I watched Tall, Dark, and Hot roll his suitcase up his driveway towards his house, and he didn’t know I was watching him from my bedroom window. He, who we’ll call TDH for short, definitely doesn’t know I watch him from my bedroom window every single day. Except for this past week while he was gone; what a long, lifeless week.I’m his next-door neighbor, but my house, and my upstairs window, and even I might as well be invisible to TDH. I’m being secretive about his nam...

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Author bio

High school math teacher who secretly loves to read and write. Working on a novel and writing short stories to procrastinate from spelunking into the dark depths of the novel revisions cave. Contest #106 Shortlist ⭐️

Shortlisted 1 story ⭐️

Contest #106
Letters to Grange – read story