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A weekly short story contest
Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jun, 2022
Submitted to Contest #170
“I only have three hours?” I asked incredulously. “Less than that, actually: two hours, 39 minutes, 11 seconds.” She was calm and serene, which of course did nothing but add to my already increasing nerves. “But I have nothing to write about!” I argued. “How am I supposed to write a story—with no plan—before midnight?” “Well, you should probably start with a name,” she mused. I paused for a moment, staring at an empty word document on my screen. I’ve always thought that a blank page, cursor blinking on a vacant first line, was one of...
Submitted to Contest #167
Release the Bond, Student.I returned, snapping my eyes open as I gasped for breath. Wiping away a bead of sweat as it trailed down my forehead, I looked across the small room to Var-Lu. Sitting cross-legged atop a sheepskin rug, Var-Lu’s eyes remained closed, his face unreadable beneath the traditional white tattoos etched into his bronze skin.He opened his eyes and spoke softly. “Slow today. Again dream?” He had a basic grasp of Imperial Common, but the translation from Sul-Nari seemed to confine him, limiting his words to short sentences a...
Submitted to Contest #156
Kestro would not simply walk. He grimaced as he entered yet another excessively long hallway. They seemed to be a trademark of the Palace of the Amethyst Court, as if the Queen wanted her subjects exhausted whenever they attended to her. Kestro pitied those shackled to the terrestrial; to never leave the soil, in his opinion, was no better than to lie beneath it. To be damned to eternal incarceration upon the ground, left to stare ever upward and long for the sky above. It seemed all too maddening. No, Kestro would not be mad, nor woul...
Submitted to Contest #151
From the back of a dusty tavern booth in a forgotten corner of the city, Jesper bided his time. His biding came easiest when telling the stories of others. While most preferred the fables and legends of heroes from faraway lands, he found himself enraptured by the ordinary. He believed every person was themself a book, and with quick glances between bitter sips from an old pewter mug, he attempted to read their chapters. He started with the pair sitting in an adjacent booth. While together they told a story of friends reunited after a lo...
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