Robin Owens

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Apr, 2020

Stories (23)

23 Stories

563 karma pts

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“Heart Attack at Camp Chapawonga” by Robin Owens

I slap my thigh in a futile attempt to murder a mosquito. It survives and moves on to suck the blood of another unsuspecting camper. Chatty teens line the hand-carved—so they say—wooden benches that face the lake. Everyone nervously introduces themselves to each other in this first hour of the first day of our high school summer camp. The two campers on either side of me have their backs to me, finding in...

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“Ashes of Indecisive Customers” by Robin Owens

“Ahh Sweetheart, let me look at you,” says Gran. I release Gran from my embrace, the scent of her rose soap lingering between us. I squeeze her shoulders. Her eyes smile at me with a bit of emptiness. Sweetheart she called me. She hasn’t called me Jen in a year. It’s been two months since I’ve seen her. My mom and my sister, Sam, have driven Gran to a small town th...

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“Train Ride” by Robin Owens

I know she can feel me looking at her. I try to suppress the shock that is contorting my face. She’s eight or ten people behind me in the line. I avert my eyes, barely, attempting to camouflage my snooping. Her greasy hair and splotchy pink skin burn in my peripheral. The oblivious baby on her hip. The royal blue spaghetti strap dress. Half-dress. I shiver. She’s looking at me, it’s obvious. Disgus...

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“A Day With Dorothy” by Robin Owens

When Mario let himself into Paige’s apartment, he was greeted by a pair of striped legs protruding from under the couch, à la Wizard of Oz. “Has there been a tornado in here?” he shouted with mock concern. Paige flexed her disembodied legs and bumped her head on the underside of the couch. “Ow! Ugh, Mario you scared me.” “Well, that’s what you get for making me thi...

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“MATON Corporation” by Robin Owens

Disclaimer: language “Another gift basket from the company?” My brother asked me, his tone disapproving. He refused to call the company I worked for by name. I didn’t have to respond; he could see it was true from my shame-flushed cheeks. “James,” he continued, his condescension barreling toward me like a 10-foot wave. “What are they trying to cover up now? They can’t keep ...

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“Not Exactly Hallmark” by Robin Owens

It could have ended like a Hallmark movie—you know, if I were into those—but it didn’t. It would have been too obvious and convenient anyway: the boy, the girl in the neighboring apartment, both single, eye-flirting from their patios until one of them finally breaks the ice with a killer line. Picture a guy and a girl; I’ll call them Greg and Sarah. Greg’s walking his dog Lulu. Sarah is tryi...

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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...

31 comments 31 SHORTLIST ⭐️
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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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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 2 stories ⭐️

Contest #182
Train Ride – read story
Contest #106
Letters to Grange – read story