Ross Dyter

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Sep, 2022

Stories (10)

10 Stories

212 karma pts

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“There’s always a choice” by Ross Dyter

Submitted to Contest #284

The bang of the door slamming, echoing through the empty house, only serves to reinforce the emptiness I feel inside. I hang my head and stare down at the doormat, the cheery ‘Welcome to our Home’, so out of place with how I feel about our home. Although it’s not really our home anymore, it hasn’t been for weeks, it’s just, my home, I suppose. My house, would probably be more accurate, a home is full of life and love. This is really just a building, a building full of memories of better times.There are no tears to be shed now, not anymore, t...

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“Circles” by Ross Dyter

Submitted to Contest #239

The sun beats down relentlessly; the only thing keeping my head from cooking, is the scuffed leather of my battered hat. The brim, wide enough, that if I stand straight, it casts a circle of shadow across my face and neck, but the rest of me has no respite. In spite of the heat I keep on trudging, one foot in front of the other, the miles slowly disappearing under my aching feet. Moving ever forwards to the distant hills. The heat slowly baking any enthusiasm out of me. My muscles ache with every movement, but I don’t stop. The pace never va...

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“Day One” by Ross Dyter

Submitted to Contest #219

The steel door slammed closed, throwing the cell into darkness. If anything, the small patch of cross hatched light on the stone flags made the shadows deeper. Day one. Day one of one thousand and ninety-five, unless there was a leap year. He had no idea when they happened, they just seemed to appear out of the blue and suddenly February would still be there with March waiting in the wings to start. Three years, he’d be just over thirty by the time he got out. This was the last time, the very last time they’d lock him up. He would keep his h...

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“Artichoke Salad” by Ross Dyter

Submitted to Contest #214

The knife flashed in the broken shards of sunlight filtering into the alley. Andy shrank back, his shoulder bumping into the rusted dumpster, “Mum,” he said, his voice squeaky. “Yes dear?” “He’s got a knife.” “I can see that dear, there’s no need to state the obvious. Let me talk to this gentleman and see what he wants.” “You shut up lady,” the man’s voice was thickly accented. His face barely visible from within the dark hooded top, as he loomed over her. “You give me, phone, jewellery, I take that bag too.” “I’m afraid this bag was a gift,...

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“I’ll Bring The Ketchup” by Ross Dyter

Submitted to Contest #194

The balls drifted in and out of focus as James gripped the edge of the table. The cushion sticky under his fingers from years of spilled beer. He took a few deep breaths and bent forward steadying his hand on the baize, the cue tip wobbling in time with his breathing as he tried to work out which of the pairs of balls was the right one to aim for. Blinking quickly the balls merged into a single blurry shape and he took the shot. The white ball jumped as the cue tip slipped underneath, leaving a long stripe of blue chalk along the scuffed gre...

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“Missing pieces” by Ross Dyter

Submitted to Contest #181

The chants of the protestors faded as the door closed behind Harry. His footsteps echoed in the empty space as he approached the desk. The receptionist looked up, her straight, jet black hair cut to a perfect bob, not a strand out of place, her dark suit looked expensive, it probably cost more than Harry’s car. She smiled, that fake, forced smile employed by receptionists everywhere. “Mr Serwatka, how good to see you, your father said you would be dropping by today.” “Yep,” Harry replied absently scratching his ear. “My apologies for the pe...

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“Fallen Leaves” by Ross Dyter

Submitted to Contest #175

The fall air was crisp and cold, but the sun on Leon’s back was warm, making him sweat as he worked his way steadily across the grass, the tines of his rake singing as he gathered the leaves into piles. This square of grass was his little slice of heaven, he sat on one of the benches most days reading his paper, eating a sandwich from the corner deli, watching the world go by. The poplar trees cast cool shade in the stifling heat of summer, but now as fall drew to a close and winter approached, they shed, their leaves settling thickly, pilin...

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“The Unreality of Jonas” by Ross Dyter

Submitted to Contest #167

The cat purred loudly as it wrapped itself around Jonas’ feet. He bent down and scratched it behind the ears, the cat purred louder and jumped up onto the crisp white sheets of his bed. The springs squeaked as he shifted to give the cat room. “Is this your cat, Simon?” he said. Simon stood across the stark, white, room from where Jonas sat. He stared impassively at the cat; his face devoid of any expression. “Oh, okay. Do you know its name?” Simon continued to stare at the cat, arms folded across his chest. He blew out a breath and looked up...

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“Shadows” by Ross Dyter

Submitted to Contest #164

The sound of hammer on anvil rang harsh in Samuel’s ears, as he stood in the muddy street. The steady rhythm like a heartbeat for the small town, each blow breaking time into moments. He looked around, tavern, clang, store, clang, apothecary, clang, alley, clang, shadow, clang, shadow, clang, shadow. He turned more quickly now, eyes darting left and right, heart racing. They were on both sides, spreading out, behind posts, in doorways, ragged, hunched, dark. Just the glint of eyes; eyes following him. His bag slipped from his shoulder. He pu...

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“A La Carte” by Ross Dyter

Submitted to Contest #162

The menu hit the table with a soft thud. “It’s all in there, I’ve done everything you asked.” His knuckles whitened as he gripped the edges of the table. He leaned in his blue eyes locked onto hers. “Now leave me, and my family, alone.” “I…” “I don’t want to hear it Sarah, it’s over.” He pulled his phone from his jacket pocket, “I’ve got your photo, if I ever hear from you again, I’m handing it all over.” He let go of the table and wiped his hands on his blue jeans. Straightening up he ran his fingers through...

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Author bio

I've done many things in life from marine engineering, to building houses, but I have always wanted to write. At school I had the fantastic opportunity to meet Sir Terry Pratchett, he came to our worn down rural secondary school and ran a writing workshop for about 15 of us. How the school managed to pay for him when they could barely afford paper or to keep the lights on I will never know. But he was truly inspiring, his main writing advice was to go and see the world, meet people and experience life before you start writing. That way your characters and places will be so much richer and diverse. So I did, I left school and joined the Navy and like the advert said, "I saw the world...differently". Now, years later, I finally have the time and opportunity to put words down on the page. I'm here to learn and develop to hopefully publish my YA urban fantasy trilogy, any comments things you liked or felt didn't work well would be greatly appreciated. After moving around I now live not far from where I grew up, in Cornwall, England with my wife and teenage daughters.