Menu

Prompts

Directory Contests Magazine FAQ

Apps

reedsymarketplace

Hire professionals for your project

reedsyblog

Advice, insights and news

reedsylearning

Online publishing courses

reedsylive

Free publishing webinars

reedsydiscovery

Launch your book in style

Bestseller Podcast Book Cover Art Success Stories

Tools

Book Promotion Sites Book Review Blogs Booktube Channel Guide Book Title Generator Character Name Generator Independent Publishers Literary Agents Literary Magazines Pen Name Generator Plot Generator Publishers Directory Short Story Ideas Writing Contests Writing Exercises Writing Scholarships

Menu

Prompts

Contests

Stories

Blog

Directory

Contests

Magazine

FAQ

S. Thomson

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Sep, 2021

Stories (13)

Comments

Library

50 Followers

34 Following

13 Stories

411 karma pts

?

Southam-on-Sea: A Town You Can Never Leave

S. Thomson

Submitted to Contest #214

ㅤWhen I was young, people would tell me that no one ever leaves Southam-on-Sea. I didn’t know they meant it literally.ㅤIt was the town where Ricky and I grew up together. A town where the sun always shines. Ricky was fat, kind, and full of wisdom. He was never given a second glance at school. His mum couldn’t afford him glasses, which meant he had a constant squint. At the back of the classroom, I would read the textbook aloud to him and he would make notes in thick pen. After lessons, we would walk down to the beach and buy a can of coke to...

7 likes

Decomposing Glory

S. Thomson

Submitted to Contest #155

ㅤI found the body in the playground my father had built with his own two hands. Maple stakes driven into an oak formed steps up to a treehouse. Each year on my birthday my father would shorten the rope on the tyre swing so my feet wouldn’t drag against the ground. Twenty years without use and the rising tide of grass and ferns had grown waist-high. The sweet, earthy smell of rotting wood filled the air. My father had died the previous week, along with my mother, when their car left the road and fell into the North Sea. An onlooker said their...

20 likes

Bucket List

S. Thomson

Submitted to Contest #143

ㅤThe plants died slowly, but the flies arrived overnight. Nicky heard the buzzing as he stirred his morning coffee, and went to investigate. In the living room, a large mirror hung on the wall behind the plants, doubling their decaying anatomy and reflecting Nicky’s frown back at him. A faint, sweet smell filled the air. ㅤMoving closer, Nicky could see the flies hum in and out between the drooping leaves. One of them, which could have been a fruit fly, flew again and again into the mirror. Each collision made a soft tap against the glass. W...

11 likes

The Years Will Rush By

S. Thomson

Submitted to Contest #139

ㅤGrow up. Go to school. Tell the class your name. Colour inside the lines. Try to make friends. Brush your teeth for two minutes in the morning. Brush your teeth for two minutes in the evening. Don’t lie. Come inside, you must be freezing. Be nice to your sister. Eat your vegetables. Don't mess around. Learn to tie shoelaces. You're too old for velcro now. Learn about verbs and nouns and adjectives. Let’s mark your height on the doorframe. Come on, stand up straight.ㅤㅤGrow up. Tuck your shirt in. Stand out from the crowd. Learn to play foot...

39 likes

A Perfect Game

S. Thomson

Submitted to Contest #130

ㅤIt was Friday night at The Mayflower, which meant the peanuts on the bar hadn’t been replaced in days. As the red pool ball sank into the corner pocket, the man with the beard pumped his fist in triumph. The clean-shaven man was pretending not to pay any attention to hide his annoyance at the fact that he was losing, like usual. He placed the blame on the new jeans his girlfriend had bought him, they were too tight around his thighs and plagued him with a constant nagging worry that his arse crack was showing. Avoiding looking down at the t...

17 likes

A Horse Walks Into A Bar

S. Thomson

Submitted to Contest #127

A horse walks into a bar. The bartender, a white-and-grey rabbit, asks,ㅤ“Why the long face?”ㅤ“What did you just say?” The horse replies.ㅤ“Oh, it’s a joke, because of your-”ㅤ“Oh no, I’ve heard it before. It’s just that the long face is a genetic condition, and I don’t really like rabbits I’ve never met making jokes about it.” There is a moment of silence. The rabbit picks up a glass.ㅤ“So… would you like a drink?”ㅤ“Yeah, thanks.” The horse sits down at the bar. “Sorry about that, it’s been a long day.”ㅤ“No, no, it’s my fault. That was bang out...

20 likes

Incurable Vanishing

S. Thomson

Submitted to Contest #118

ㅤI first noticed the change when Amy stopped cutting her fingernails. We were in the back seat of the car on the way home from an overcast day at the beach. Our parents had had a loud argument in the queue for the ice cream stand, so we drove in silence. The only sound was the anxious, rhythmic click of Amy’s nails against the car door. My father’s voice came from the driver’s seat. ㅤ“Amy. Stop that.” The rhythm ceased, incomplete. Light from the window behind her shone through the overhanging ends of her fingernails and I could see the dirt...

26 likes

Memory, Oil on Canvas

S. Thomson

Submitted to Contest #117

ㅤOn the morning of his 34th birthday, Tommy Morris sat up in bed and hit his head on the ceiling. He collapsed back onto his pillow and rubbed the sore spot on his forehead. With his other hand, he touched the newly exposed patch of plaster. It matched several other spots on the ceiling where the paint had fallen away. Tommy swung his legs over the side of the top bunk and jumped down onto the carpet with a thud. He looked around at his childhood bedroom. ㅤSunlight bled through the gaps beneath the curtains and the digital alarm clock on the...

19 likes

Old Willakers Weathers a Storm at Sutton Hill Farm

S. Thomson

Submitted to Contest #116

ㅤEven if he could hear the radio over the hammering rain, Old Willakers still would have ignored its warning. ㅤ“REMAIN INDOORS. ENSURE ALL WINDOWS AND DOORS ARE CLOSED AND SECURE. DO NOT TRAVEL OUTSIDE FOR ANY REASON. IF YOU ARE INJURED, REMAIN WHERE YOU ARE AND CONTACT EMERGENCY SERVICES.” ㅤThe storm had been brewing for days, and all the inhabitants of Sutton Hill farm had felt it. The pigs had been restless, and even as the rain came down they paced up and down their pen, unable to lie still. Even the farm cat had found the darkest co...

21 likes

Starstruck

S. Thomson

Submitted to Contest #114

ㅤIn a tiny apartment above a sprawling city, Martha Grint was eating a bowl of cornflakes and watching the evening news. Around her, celebrity gossip magazines were piled several feet high on every surface. A workspace had been cleared in the centre of the coffee table, now covered in paper scraps, a large pair of scissors and an industrial size bottle of craft glue. A bulging scrapbook sat in the middle of it all. ㅤHundreds of photographs of one man populated the book’s pages. The man was attractive, in his mid-forties. The scrapbook c...

14 likes

Storm on the Sea of Galilee

S. Thomson

Submitted to Contest #112

ㅤThe clock tower came into focus every few seconds, as the wipers cleared the water droplets from the windscreen. Callum could always tell from this spot, waiting at the traffic lights by the post office, whether he would be on time for school. He was going to be late today.ㅤA tapping sound came from somewhere to Callum’s left. He looked over and could make out the figure of a boy standing there. The blurry figure wiped the rain off a spot on the window, and mouthed, ‘can I get in?’, pointing at the empty passenger seat. Callum recognised hi...

12 likes

The Word Collector

S. Thomson

Submitted to Contest #111

ㅤAlice sat on her hands in her father’s office, looking out over the chimneys of Holborn.ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤCHIMNEY. n. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ1. The turret raised above the roof of a house, for conveyance of the smoke.ㅤShe had been given strict instructions not to touch anything. Around her, thousands of slips of paper lay on writing desks. Each bore a word and a definition. In this cramped attic above a London townhouse, six men were writing a dictionary.ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤDICTIONARY. n.ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ1. A book containing the words of any language in alphabetical order, withㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤexplanatio...

26 likes

Dreams of Living

S. Thomson

Submitted to Contest #110

Sal’s Diner stuck out of the desert like an ice cream cone discarded on the beach. A ragged border where asphalt met sand marked three sides of the lot. The fourth side joined the interstate. Two ancient gas pumps faced the road, nauseous with rust. Inside, 50s and 60s memorabilia cluttered the walls, and the jukebox played non-stop rock and roll. A sign behind the bar advertised ‘Real American Lemonade’. Sal, the owner, was full of wild ideas. One of his more outlandish schemes had the employees on roller skates while they waited table...

18 likes