Samantha Hartford

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Dec, 2019

Stories (7)

7 Stories

106 karma pts

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“Unconventional History” by Samantha Hartford

Submitted to Contest #78

It was a lovely day in the shadow of Conisbrough castle. There in the castle yard, the weavers wove, the knights practiced swordplay, the cooks busily tended fires, and the visitors happily snapped pictures with their iphones. May took a break from her 12th-century shoemaking, brushing pieces of leather off her apron and blowing strands of greying hair away from her face as she looked around. The sky shimmered blue, the air tingled with woodsmoke and full of laughter and ringing metal. Not everyone from her reenactment group had made it, ...

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“Between Hero and Villain” by Samantha Hartford

Submitted to Contest #45

Part 1. The hero and former victorious king Callum strode up the hill overlooking the village, and found at its top the villain he sought: a short, dark blue demon called Midnight. “I’m going to speak out in the town square against the raids on the temple,” Callum announced to his former enemy. He ran a hand through his long black hair. “And I’ve suggested some new laws to be put in place regarding one temple taking advantage of another.” “Why tell me?” asked Midnight airily. A former enemy and now-reformed friend she might be, but tha...

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“Family is Forever” by Samantha Hartford

Submitted to Contest #43

Callum, once a king who had led his armies to victory and now a hero who wandered the land doing good deeds, was at the end of his rope. Leaning heavily on his staff, running shaking fingers through his dark hair, he pleaded with the greatest villain his country had ever known. “Midnight, could you please not do this?”“Why wouldn’t I?” Across the darkened chamber, the demon’s sharp smile flared. When the sun at last rose and the clouds outside cleared, she might appear a normal human -- but for the fact that she was deep blue and scaled and ...

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“Metaphorically Speaking” by Samantha Hartford

Submitted to Contest #23

As the force of the storm bearing down on the hillside intensified, the sturdy mountain ponies struggled to pull their covered carts. And when the world turned white around them, the ponies decided they’d already had quite enough. The caravan came to a halt. “Gods above,” said a low voice, coming unexpectedly from the front seat of one of the carts toward the rear of the party. “Your own bloody carts are holding you up. How do you manage to get anywhere at this rate, O Good King?”Callum, otherwise known as the Good King of Doenall, shif...

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“Different (A Post-Aesop Fable)” by Samantha Hartford

Submitted to Contest #23

Deep in the woods, among standing pine and cedar, a squat cabin lay. Its chimney slouched, its once-snug windows now let the wind sigh through; in its heyday this cabin had been the sort of place where people came together and learned and loved, but now no voices disturbed its slumber. Such was the case until a deep new blanket of snow gave the bristling forest a chance to reawaken.In their nests on the empty sills, the dark-hooded juncos watched the flakes continue to fall. From time to time, a voice from the southeast sill, or the wes...

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“Bare Trees” by Samantha Hartford

Submitted to Contest #20

10. We must take care our robes are always one breadth from the floor.17. We are always the first to greet a crowd when entering a room.19. We never shout from one room to another. 26. When someone says ‘thank you,’ we may say ‘you are welcome’ or ‘it was no problem,’ but we do not say ‘it was nothing.’ 27. We apologize once and, if forgiven, let the unpleasant matter end there. The monks of the Order of Honor were a family. They had survived the tumultuous rise and crushing defeat of their city like it was just another stormy...

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“Breaking the Circle” by Samantha Hartford

Submitted to Contest #20

“You’re always looking for yourself in those fictional worlds. But words can’t tell you who you are!”In the dust that swirled in the wake of his girlfriend -- likely now ex girlfriend, he supposed -- Tenilan’s mind refracted pieces of desolation, desperation, and loss. Sitting at his rickety wooden desk in the middle of it all, he mused. Can’t words tell you who are? What would you use, if not words?But he didn’t get very far in this line of thought, because other words -- the parting words of other girlfriends -- crept in.I just don’t ...

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Author bio

In love with fictional worlds, characters, and the things that make us who we are. I'm new here and still learning! :~)