Sara M

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jan, 2020

Stories (4)

4 Stories

94 karma pts

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“Little Favours” by Sara M

Submitted to Contest #261

Dear Laura,Welcome to the neighbourhood! Thank you for the cake you brought over. It was delicious. Did you make it yourself? I’m not much of a cook, but hopefully I can return the favour someday.Hope you’re loving your new home!Sal x Dear Laura,Thank you so much for minding the kids yesterday. My mum got taken into hospital and Mike couldn’t get away from work in time to be home for them.Hope they didn’t make a mess in yours!Sal x Dear Sal,Thanks a bunch for the flowers (haha) – there was really no need. Your...

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“Maladapted” by Sara M

Submitted to Contest #156

He pushed her gently against the wall and kissed her. Sunshine streamed in the window; an orange butterfly danced along its frame. Her mind was filled with his heady sandalwood scent and her skin tingled where he held her arms. Enya sighed, first contented by the kiss, then frustrated at being dragged back to the world by a lorry beeping outside. She picked herself up from where she had half-slumped against the wall and sat back down at her desk. He stroked her hair. --- On th...

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“Solitary” by Sara M

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #97

It was 0300, but it might as well have been 1900, or 0700. The mist was the same colour, blocking out light and darkness in equal measure, whatever window you chose. The Ugloo was all windows, really. It was made of high-grade reinforced glass, and you could see out of any part of it. Or not see, as the case may be; like now. Further inside, the LiveSpace was contained within four walls that looked like a black box to the - strictly hypothetical - outside observer. Although Andromeda had spent most of her life in this Managed Zone and ...

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“The March Home” by Sara M

Submitted to Contest #22

Torches roar. I mean, the old style, pitchfork-and-mob torches. Tiki torches? I had never once thought about them until December 31st, 2018, but they roar. When you light them. They roar like the wind roars in the Hebrides in the winter, for a moment. No, they roar like the crash of the tumultuous sea against the side of a stricken boat. My great-grandfather grew up listening to those roars, lying in his bed at night while the wind howled, going to the fishing as a teenager and getting caught in a squall on...

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Author bio

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Shortlisted 1 story ⭐️

Contest #97

Solitary – read story