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A weekly short story contest
Author on Reedsy Prompts since Apr, 2020
Submitted to Contest #48
I was here before, I have seen it all. The smashed pieces of metal, melded into each other, resemble an impressionistic piece of art, grotesque and visceral, thought provoking, only it isn’t: it smells like burned flesh. The blood is spread on the ground, its color turning darker and darker as the night goes on. I wish I was not here, I wish I was in my bare room, looking at the moldy walls of the bearded man’s house. The man calls himself my uncle, and I know he isn’t, and he knows that I know, and yet we never talk. We have never talked. I...
Submitted to Contest #47
You are here. You are now. You are the present, not the past you have subtly escaped and not the future you dread so much. Even now, you can hear their voices. The voices swell in your head, trying to find a way out, but you have lost your voice. You can’t yell, you can’t howl. You can’t scream. You can run. Which is what you do, and you do so well you have trouble believing it. “I’m moving out, mom.” How did the words come out, you will never know. You know you said them, though, because your mom pretends nonchalance, and ...
Submitted to Contest #36
March 13, 1995Mama says it’s time. I am not ready in any way, which is of course something Mama will never know, or understand. I have been awake at nights, thinking. What would happen, if I refuse to do it? Mama would not have it, would call it a sin. How can you sin at 10 years old?I am writing in a blood-stained journal I found yesterday in the cupboard. I know exactly where it comes from: a middle-aged male, tall and lanky, bearded with glasses. I had not seen glasses before. “Can I have them?” I asked Mama. She would not let me near him...
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