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Sandra Moody

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jan, 2025

Stories (17)

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37 Followers

11 Following

17 Stories

558 karma pts

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Whispers of Hope: Emma's Story

Sandra Moody

Submitted to Contest #307

The dorm room was silent and shadowed. Sixteen mahogany bed posts towered like ancient masts, casting blue shadows across four billowing white bedspreads. A whisper of a breeze wafted through a window, dissipating the scent of moth balls and age with the fragrance of autumn.“Tink.”“Plink,” a tiny stone had hit the glass of the window above where Emma slept.Emma had started ninth grade that September. Until this year, school had been a nightmare. She had been so unruly, some teachers thought her mentally impaired, but one teacher had thought ...

4 likes

Footsteps of Heroes

Sandra Moody

Submitted to Contest #306

Kids' faces press against the windows as our old van maneuvers the hairpin turns. Lupines carpet the canyon slopes, and our eyes feast on the spring green. North Idaho’s high-elevation plateaus drop abruptly to precipitous chasms, canyons once gouged by the onslaught of melted glaciers. And deep in their bottoms, the rivers rush with the sound of the ancient monster’s roar.This is Nez Perce country, a country once belonging to a people whose creation story began at the Heart of the Monster, an unexplainable landmark, a mountainous heap of ea...

23 likes

A Precious Package

Sandra Moody

Submitted to Contest #300

The telegram arrived after dark bearing the cryptic message: a package is ready for delivery. Six short words, yet much hung on their import. These words were followed by an address. Christina Akka*, smoothed her graying hair and twisted it into a knot. She snatched her ready-made duffle, wrapped her plain, cotton sari neatly, and slipped wordlessly through the high gate. Her flashlight bobbed bravely as she headed down the sandy road to the bus stop. The road ran through Dohnavur village, a cluster of earthen dwellings with thatched roofs a...

18 likes

Ent, the Mouse: A True Story from Childhood

Sandra Moody

Submitted to Contest #299

My brother Ted was endowed with the gift of creative mischief. From a young age, he could imitate voices and mannerisms, reenact scenarios most people found mundane, and have an audience splitting their sides with laughter. He had an uncanny way of unmasking hypocrisy, uplifting the underdog, the lonely and despised, and sprinkling any drudgery or pessimism with his magic powder of fun and positivity. His energy and sense of adventure was unmatched. Few grownups could keep pace with him, but that’s what I loved about him.My brother and I wer...

15 likes

Marvelous Matches

Sandra Moody

Submitted to Contest #298

High above the fjord, Don wandered barefoot among the purple lupines, watching the eight free-range milk cows he knew by name. Then as the sun reached its zenith, he hunkered down against the heaving sides of his favorite, Dagros, and unpacked his lunch box. She ground her cud rhythmically while Don devoured the simple brown bread and goat’s cheese. Then cow and boy snuggled for a midday nap. But Don only dozed. His ears must stay alert for the clanging of the lead cow’s bell, his switch always in reach because every cow follows her directio...

11 likes

A Visit from Time

Sandra Moody

Submitted to Contest #297

Mrs. Snippet slid the porch door open and inhaled the cucumber-cool freshness. Birds sang joyously as the eastern sky shone with the white light of dawn. High above her, the last stars faded. She grasped the railing, and admired her daffodils against the house, nodding with the heavy wetness of dew. How long she had waited for spring!She looked over the field beyond her yard to where a male turkey gobbled, fanning its tail, and strutting its stuff. “Sure sign it’s April,” she said to her dachshund, Rosy, as it nosed around her skirt hem.Over...

24 likes

The Girl They Used to Call "Bitch"

Sandra Moody

Submitted to Contest #296

The Girl They Used to Call ‘Bitch’One night after dark, my phone rings from an unknown caller. We are eating dinner around the family table, just me and the kids; my husband is working. New in the area and seeing it’s a local number, I take the call. An angry voice, a woman’s voice, is accusing my kids of meddling with her mailbox. It’s on speaker, and the kids hear the rancor. I look them each in the eye, eyebrows raised with apprehension. It just doesn’t seem like them, and they return my look, bewildered.The one-sided harangue continues f...

30 likes

The Blue Balloon: A True Story

Sandra Moody

Submitted to Contest #295

Tristan, my eight-year-old, squinted up at the sky as his blue balloon sailed far, far, into space. He couldn’t keep his eyes off it. He knew if he looked away even for a second, he might not be able to spot it again; and there was more at stake here than just a balloon.It was the end-of-school celebration. Burgers sizzled and spat on smoky grills, bowls of potato salad weighted the outdoor tables, and kids lapped at their ice cream cones. Grass tickled their bare toes as they ran after their footballs and Frisbees. Soon the awards started, ...

19 likes

The Best Gift of the Blarney Stone

Sandra Moody

Submitted to Contest #294

Sage was as silent as she was beautiful; it was this mystique that kept the boys guessing. It wasn’t that she couldn’t talk; she just didn’t want to. Ever. “Just a long drink of water,” her grandmother used to say about her, drawing out the o. Sage loved her worn blue jeans and faded T-shirts, her keds with holes in the toes--old things that flexed comfortably. She loved the farm life and bonded with animals better than humans. When lambing time arrived, she practically lived with the sheep. She frolicked with the lambs and nuzzled her ...

20 likes

What Makes a Mother

Sandra Moody

Submitted to Contest #293

Ruby eases into the upholstered window seat, and as she leans into her husband, Doug, her heart flutters. The flight attendant approaches on her first round of inspection, and her eyes catch Ruby's for a fleeting second. Ruby’s lips turn up in a tight smile, and she nods. Her hands, clasped together in her lap, twist and turn, sweating slightly. Meanwhile, Doug, calmly reaches for his book and pencil, underlining key points to remember as he reads.The pilot's voice crackles with announcements for takeoff, and the safety demonstration begins....

21 likes

The Blue Horses

Sandra Moody

Submitted to Contest #292

Barring the sky and sea, blue is the color found least in the natural world. Because of its rarity, blue was the last color to get its name; some primitive cultures don’t even have a name for blue. But I always loved blue. As a child, I lay in the grass and looked into the great expanse of sky and wondered, “What would happen if gravity lost its force? Could I fall into that endless blue sky?” That thought came back to me many times in my life. Even today, my love of blue, of water and sky, persists. I ponder, “What power keeps the human rac...

17 likes

Timeless Castles and Dreams

Sandra Moody

Submitted to Contest #291

There is nothing more beautiful than a child’s dream, a dream of a place where love never dies, a place of sunshine and goodness. And kind Ms. Linville knew for certain, there are never dreams that cannot be. ***Sophie dashes up the street, dodges a flower vendor, jumps an open sewer ditch, and runs through a cluster of empty chairs spilling out over the sidewalk from a street café. She hears the street cries, a symphony of sing-song chants, a music box of sound, calling: cat meat, herring, second-hand clothing, kitchen utensils, pots t...

22 likes

Elvis: A Story of Love and Loss

Sandra Moody

Submitted to Contest #290

Della wished to die at home surrounded by her husband, family, and friends. In those days, Della and Tom gazed proudly on their five daughters. But every once in a while, they would remind each other of their one son, Elvis. And there would not have been Elvis if it wasn’t for Aspen, the youngest of the five. May was the picture perfect time of year in North Idaho. Purple lupines blanketed the high canyon walls. Grass, lemon green, sprouted lush from last year’s dead growth. The sun rode high in a bright, azure sky, and spring fever lod...

12 likes

To Take Us Lands Away

Sandra Moody

Submitted to Contest #289

The room is unfamiliar. I don’t know how I got here. Then I spot my friend, Dora. “Hey, Dora! What’s going on? Weren’t you just sitting by me in Ms. Linville’s geography class?”“Oh my gosh, I can’t believe this is true. I-I think we are really here!” “It’s like she said, if you really learn about stuff, it can be like you’re actually there!” Nine-o-five and the torrent poured through the door: the gangly, good, the garrulous, the stout, the strong, the shy, the overdressed and underdressed. Backpack bearers all, jostling, pushing, and prod...

10 likes

Raina

Sandra Moody

Submitted to Contest #288

Raina That afternoon a fog set in. I stepped out warily down the front steps and felt the light drizzle on my face and arms, steady, silent, and soft. The air was heavy with moisture—like me, I thought, heavy with child. I was home these days, feeling the calmness and quiet of waiting. It was only two days after due date when I realized labor had started. With excitement, I added the last things to a suitcase I had prepared weeks before. Girl or boy? We had wanted to be surprised. Not knowing, I had packed two perfect sets of baby cloth...

11 likes