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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Oct, 2021
Submitted to Contest #175
Lys rushed toward Syre, stumbling over himself just in time to catch the tipping fruit barrel. Since bonding over his grandmother’s quilt, Lys gained the courage to keep her company common. Though spoken word only held truths, he spoke with her often. Most times, the beautiful shopkeeper of Sonare left his voice with a written return. On the rare occasion she granted him her words, they were nothing more than whispers. The barrel wobbled unsteadily, weight shifting haphazardly until finally, Syre held it upright. “Thank you for that,”...
Submitted to Contest #174
“Noah!” Violette screeched.Noah jogged through the small, concrete space housing his friend’s array of plants. They’d lived and thrived for over a month since Violette convinced him to travel underground. As a self-taught botanist, he wasn’t confident in his skill at all, but he refused to admit it. He guessed he was worth something if Violette wanted him on her crew to ‘revive the world.’“Noah!” she howled a second time. “I think I did it!”“What?” he heaved. “What did you do?”“I’ve finally got a powerful enough ray, and it won’t melt your h...
Submitted to Contest #173
(This short story features characters from 'Missing' and is a partial continuation of the plot) CONTENT WARNING: References to mental health, physical abuse, and substance abuse. Ryker stared at me from the couch as I raveled my scarf around my neck. After everything settled down with the cops months ago, he’d condemned himself to our place full-time. I wasn’t sure if he’d done if for his safety, or if he’d done it out of fear. No one knew where the man who’d taken him had gone off to. Though his disappearance hit all the major news outlet...
Submitted to Contest #172
Sonare sat characteristically silent as people wandered. Most residents vowed to spoken silence. Residing within Sonare, while a citied paradise, proved nothing short of cursed. Should words venture past inhabitants’ lips, they would only speak truths. Be it harsh, relationship-ending, or wanted, the city of Sonare existed not for the faint of heart. Rarely, when conversation arose, it was short and simple—devoid of needed opinion. The city held not a date of birth or history of construction. The place had just been. Surely, if a soul brav...
Submitted to Contest #171
The moonlight cascaded onto the midnight hue along the ocean. Navies, blacks, royal blues with hints of white smiled at Noah in a blurry gleam. Tears slipped from his eye rims and danced along his jawline. He’d never witnessed a view so unique. “It’s only the moon,” he whispered to himself. Sand tickled between his right fingertips as his left arm wept at the wetness on his face. Though many survived the sun’s fading without explanation, no one knew how long lives would continue absent of its benefits to life. Noah overheard experiments un...
Submitted to Contest #170
“I’ve got a plan,” he murmured near her ear, “and it’ll only be nice for me!” With a shrill cry, the woman grabbed at her hair as she was dragged down the hallway. The man ignored her as her neck whipped and jerked for freedom. He could hear the heavy breaths of struggle escape her lungs rapidly, and it fueled him. There was no greater trophy than the streetwalkers. Lonely, young, but easily missed, they were the perfect candidates for consumption. Something that always fascinated the Vampire Lord was just how quickly they begged...
Submitted to Contest #169
The lightning shot down and struck miles away from the now-illuminated graveyard. Rain slammed against the guard shack window mercilessly with loud cracks and slaps that began to resemble the sound of rattling television static. As the rain pounded, more lightning dove into the ground, reminding John of just how despairing his job could be. People carried a misconception that graveyards were dark, creepy, and unsettling. For John, the graveyard he oversaw at the turn of midnight was nothing more than the peaceful resting place he’d chosen...
Submitted to Contest #168
CW: References to violence, suicide, cannibalism, and threats of violence Darkness loomed with a foggy heaviness as Ander took his seat. The Night Train was meant for one thing and one thing only—a trip to Nowhere. He gave a sigh as he sat against the royal purple cushions in the bench that awaited his company. He glanced out the train window for a moment before adjusting the collar of his coat. Nowhere was a dreadful place that most criminals were sent to fend for themselves. It wasn’t a prison, but a ravenous, secluded town barred off ...
Submitted to Contest #167
He was running as fast as his legs could take him. His arms ached from their sway, and his calves throbbed from exhaustion, but he couldn’t stop. There were too many lives to be saved, he swore. Something is coming. Yet, despite his will, he stumbled into the overgrowth under himself and instantly tasted the earthy musk of soil between his teeth. The thicker patches always made it difficult to run smoothly, and he hadn’t the time to tread carefully. They needed to know. Something is coming. Quell dug his nails deep into the loosened...
The camera flashed as she clicked the button. It was another hopeless attempt at snatching that perfect moment for the masses. What else was she supposed to do? Photography ran in her blood, after all. Her father served as a top photographer for several places across the country—so much so that the man rarely visited home for more than a week at a time. As she got older, she saw less and less of him while her mother worked for a small model agency. She had a parent meant for the limelight and one who offered the opportunity. They were perfec...
Submitted to Contest #125
Tick. Tick. Tick. The clock thumped with a peaceful echo in the dimly lit hallway. As it always had, the pendulum swayed with the turn of each second. It was one of Theo’s favorite sounds. He appreciated the exaggeration of it whenever the house was empty of everyone but himself. Sometimes, he’d mindlessly pace to the beat and knocking. Today, for Theo, it was one of those days. Tick. Tick. Tick. He also noted that he always counted in threes. It was a calming practice that he’d committed himself to for so long. Without it, his m...
Submitted to Contest #124
CONTENT WARNING: Contains violence, physical harm, reference to sexual themes and encounters, profanity, negligence, and mental health issues.It’d been three days and no word—no trace or inkling of him. It’d been a whirlwind of constant worry and frantic calls to our friends and family. He wasn’t the type to just… run away. There was something else, but no one believed me. Three days of pacing our living room with my unresponsive phone in my hand began to twist my stomach further and further into unbreakable knots. I’d sent over thirty messa...
Submitted to Contest #123
He walked up to the mirror with a gloomy sigh. His pale hair fell into his eyes as he looked down at the floor. Even though it had been six years since that night, mirrors were always a fear to him – a reminder of what took place. The dimmed light of his bedroom only granted faint shadows of objects, and he kept it that way on purpose.When he sucked in a breath, he looked up. The right side of his face was as it always had been; a beautifully blemish free cheekbone and jawline that sparkled with its unique and ghostly complexion. The le...
Submitted to Contest #120
I walked along the empty streets of my city. Lights flickered and hummed over my head as the air never felt so cold to me. It was the fifth time I’d been tossed to the streets. After the third time, it was easy to shove aside the hurt. In fact, I found that I wasn’t hurt at all. I hated that place and those people, so it was a gift over a punishment. The air continued to chill my bones with its winter bite as I realized I’d been thrown out without a jacket again. I sighed and stared at the warmth of my breath being casted into the open ai...
Submitted to Contest #119
The waves crashed along the beach with a soothing rush, and her eyes began to water from the strong salt in the air as she stepped onto the porch of her vacation home. The humid air felt heavy, but the sun shining overhead erased any chance for gloom. She allowed herself a few, short steps until her bare feet touched the edge of the stairs to the glamourous house on the beach. Her wavy, red locks blew through the breeze that sang by gently with a peaceful suddenness. How could she have gotten so lucky? The air was rich with the minera...
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