Rose McCoy

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Dec, 2019

Stories (15)

15 Stories

347 karma pts

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“A Break In the Routine” by Rose McCoy

As soon as I made it past the bouncer, I was in my element. The sordid smell of alcohol and sweat; the overactive strobe lights; the crushing masses of people gyrating and grinding on each other… it didn’t matter how unsophisticated it was, because this was my place. There was nothing I loved more than being in the club, forgetting myself, acting wild and young and free because I could.  I adjusted my top and ...

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“Arrested” by Rose McCoy

I think I killed Elizabeth Warner. But it wasn’t my fault. I won’t get into it now; that’s a story for another time. I just thought I should tell you because Dr. Wagoner used to say I should always tell a fact about myself when first meeting someone, and then ask them to do the same. It would “break the ice,” she said. I don’t know what that means, but I trust Dr. Wagoner. She’s the only one who doesn’t judge me or look at me like I’m wrong inside. Actually, that’s ...

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“Achilles' Heel” by Rose McCoy

Never has there been a more bitter or scathing winter. The ice is sharp and freezing, and snow constantly drifts down from a blinding white sky in monstrous torrents; the snowflakes are less flakes than heavy pricks I can feel as they hit me, sinking into my skin from whichever direction I’m facing.The wind blows against me, heavy, fierce, and it pushes the snow towards me in waves: the whiteness fills my eyes, my ears, my mouth. I cannot blink for fear of blindness, I cannot breathe for fear of choking, and the only sound I am sti...

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“The Daughter Chooses Herself in This One” by Rose McCoy

Happy screams and laughter pervaded the air, mingling with the scent of fried food and sweat. It was hot, so hot people wondered if the fun was worth the sticky uncomfortableness that soaked through their hair and sat in their shoes—the general consensus, however, seemed to be that it was.  “Shit!” “Mia, watch where you’re going!” <...

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“Ballet Bond” by Rose McCoy

“Tombé, pas de bourrée, fourth—Brooke do prep—pirouette. Tombé, pas de bourrée, fourth—big plié!—pirouette.” Lydia surveyed her students, noticing the glisten on everyone’s skin. Her mind drifted to the oft-repeated colloquialism of ‘I don’t sweat, I sparkle,’ and found the idea laughable; these girls would certainly argue otherwise. “Okay, guys, that’s it! Thank you fo...

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“The Orange Grove” by Rose McCoy

By the time I saw him again, the change between us was like a rift, as visible as anything intangible can be, as palpable as the mistake that had caused it. It was fine when his ship rolled in, and it was fine when it docked, and it was fine when he strode towards me—the picture-perfect moment laid out before us, of the man gone off to war and his delicate wife waiting as they met once again—but when he approached me and removed his cap, he looked at me with the saddest, most rejected eyes you’ve ever seen and said, so...

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“The Agoraphobe” by Rose McCoy

By the time I stepped outside, the leaves were on fire.​It startled me at first. Like the seed tucked, hidden really, inside a fruit. I thought I was hallucinating.​Whenever I dreamt about going outside, being outside, the dreams were always the same: gray, cold, empty. Nothing really to look at. Trash and distracted people. And there were hardly ever trees.​But today, for the first time in ten years, I saw the trees. I saw the sky. I saw the grass and the flowers and the insects. I heard the ...

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“Twelve Oh One” by Rose McCoy

On the day I proposed to her, the sun shone brightly in the sky, peeking out from creamy clouds, and the willow trees bent down from some forgotten place to sweep the ground with their limbs. They waved in the wind as I presented the ring, watching quietly when, after a long pause, she said, “I’m not always on time.” ​I thought, what? I knew that, of course I did, but what did it have to do with us potentially getting married? For a second I worried she would say no.​Then she proceeded to explain...

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“The Shadow Man” by Rose McCoy

His face is made of darkness; it drips from him like oil. His hands are skeletal and freezing—his heart offers him no blood. When you were younger, you speculated what might run through his veins: dust, rust, ash. But now you know there is nothing inside the veins he does not have. There is only his billowy, black frame, sunken cheekbones, empty eye sockets, and a sickening grin that stretches across his face like an arr...

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“Hound Dogs” by Rose McCoy

The photo flashes of the paparazzi were like diamonds winking in the sunlight. Even worse were the news reporters, who thrust their microphones like javelins into Michael’s face as they demanded he answer their questions. ​People thought that being a writer was nothing like being a celebrity, that as an author you were more like the men behind the curtain instead of the actors, but whether it was Michael’s individual situation or not, that wasn’t his experience. Right now, he imagined he was more famous than Jewl&...

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“Cancer Kids” by Rose McCoy

Have you ever loved someone so much, you nearly died losing them?Because I haven’t. I haven’t at all.I was walking home yesterday in the bitter San Fransisco heat, hoping to make it there before my boyfriend, Adrian, noticed I was gone. I didn’t anticipate that he would, at least not yet; nothing interested him more than action movies, and my excuse for a bathroom break was as good as any. Still, though, I worried. What would he think when he realized I wasn’t simply taking my meds or getting my bearings away from...

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“Anna in Wonderland” by Rose McCoy

“I’m so--” “If you say ‘I’m so bored’ one more time, I will end your life.”  The eighteen-year-old goth was so sick of hearing those words that Anna was sure she meant it. But that didn’t stop her from retorting, “Jesus, Dahlia, I wouldn’t be saying it if you just gave me something to do.” “I’ve given you tons of things to do! Hundreds! Thousands! I offered to dye your hair, paint your nails, take you thrift shopping. I even--” “But you only have black nail polish, and those are all thin...

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“Dear Liza” by Rose McCoy

“Happy birthday to you,” Liza’s friends sang. “Happy birthday to you!” She winced; how had she never realized how hideously tone-deaf her friends were? “Happy birthday dear Liza…” Oh Lord, she thought,

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“Don’t Look Back” by Rose McCoy

“You didn’t just use that cell phone, did you?” Emelie looked up questioningly. “Wait, I--”  And then it dawned on her. “Oh,

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“Just Like Always” by Rose McCoy

Maya shuffles down the hallway of her high school, shoulders hunched, head down. They’re looking at you, she thinks. They’re looking at and judging you. This is the worst part of the day: the pa...

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Author bio

Rose is a writer of poetry, prose, and bad short stories. She enjoys reading, writing, and speculating. You can find her on Twitter @24hrmccoy or visit her website at rose-mccoy.writing.io.