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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Dec, 2020
My father was bald. The kind of bald that litters the top of a man's skull with sunspots and leaves an incomplete tire of hair around the sides and back of their head. It's the kind of bald that's given to pathetic men. The kind of bald that tricks pathetic men into thinking they have enough hair to take to the barbershop. My father was pathetic, but he knew he didn't belong at the barbershop, so he cut his hair himself ...
The four-door Mitsubishi Mirage that Carl rented for he and Georgina's excursion to Dave's wedding reminded him of the go-karts he'd drive as a kid at Boomer's in Livermore. The sound the Mitsubishi's door made when he slammed it shut brought him back to the sound the go-karts made when he'd ram them into the corners of the quarter-mile track; thin metal on thin metal. It was a cheap sound, like flicking the tip of your ...
When I feel sexy, I imagine strawberries falling from the sky and hitting me in the face. Deep red and plump, I tingle at the thought of them raining on me. Some bounce off my forehead; others graze my nose or roll down my cheek. They're soft yet firm. If I could catch one in my mouth and bite down, it would burst with juices, which would cause the sweet nectar to dribble down my chin and give my moist tongue a job to do. I'll tell you how to get turned on: a wet and wild cantaloupe. Wash that baby nice and good, t...
It was after a long exhale during a hot shower that Bob Bennett put his forehead to the glass and thought, "Maybe marriage is accepting that you should just stay together because you're probably not going to be happy regardless of who you're with."Poor Bob Bennet had reached that point that men do in middle-age where he wasn't happy doing anything. Even on Christmas morning that year, in his $1.4million home, drinking his favorite coffee in front of the beautifully decorated 9ft tall Douglas fur, watching his wife and two children ...
"Whistle fart." "What?" "Yea. I thought I had to go, so I sat on the toilet and tried, but instead of anything coming out, it was just whistling." "What?" "Yea, like a mellow breeze." "Why are you telling me this?" My wife doesn't like my jokes. She used to when we were younger, and she was trying to lock me down, but now it's not the same. Humor takes vulner...
Sean texted her, then told Courtney, "I texted her." "What did you say?" "Are you coming tonight?" "Why didn't you do it in the group chat?" "There's more pressure in the group chat, right?" "It's just a text message." "I know, but she's weird like that." "And she hasn't responded?" "Not yet." Sean was talking about his mom, who lived alone. His mom w...
It's the morning. "I'm sorry," Samantha tells Figaro for the third time, "I didn't mean for it to happen this way. I thought we could make it work. I did all the right things." She hadn't. Most people never do. Most people don't understand what it takes to keep a promise. They don't get that you have to be active every day, giving a portion of your life, a part of yourself, to keep the thing alive. Nothing comes easy, Samantha. Why can't you see that? Most people treat their plants like a cu...
Of the thirty-four summers of my life, that one was the most revealing and the one that comes back to me most often, because it was then that I realized that the subject is more important than the picture. I am a photographer. My job is to capture moments worth remembering. The older I get, the more I think about this Diane Arbus quote, "Lately, I've been struck with how I really love what you can't see in a photograph." I have the pictures I took of Mr. Gorey that summer hidden in a folder within a folder within a...
CW: body shaming, mental health, body image issues The mirror's size, shape, clarity; the lighting in the room, the color of the paint on the walls, the surfaces in the reflection, whatever was behind me; none of that mattered. Those things weren’t the problem. The problem was the fat girl in the mirror’s reflection. The problem was me. My dad is Wayne, my brother is Wayne Jr., and my mother died of breast cancer when I was thirteen. We’ve always been the big family. Not like, “there’s a...
It’s the fourth Thursday of November, a day to come together as a family and eat a dead bird, a holiday because America says so.Diane’s seventy and dyes her thinning hair gold. She swims three times a week in a lap pool at a gym she pays eighty dollars a month to attend and is in better health than many other septuagenarians that she knows. When her hair is wet, it looks like lacquer on stained pine wood. When it’s dry, it’s the same color as her golden retriever’s fur. She lives alone with a dog named Chomper. When people ask Dian...
My whole life, I’ve been a quitter. The years I’ve lived are rich with mistakes that cause me to gag whenever they flash, and they flash often. Despite my numerous attempts to numb them, the memories of my mistakes are unrelenting. They continually stab my psyche and have left me tattered and helpless. But, of course, I am to blame. I did the things that turned into memories that haunt me no matter how far removed I am from them. I forget the good times, not the bad, and try to forgive others, but I can’t forgive myself. I used to tell my...
“I’m telling you, something’s wrong. How long are you willing to wait before we call the cops?” “We’re not calling the cops.” “She’s my daughter, babe. Don’t you understand that?” “Greg, she’s our daughter.” “You’re acting like she’s not. You’re acting like you don’t even care!” “She’s on a date.”“She was! She was on a date. One that was supposed to end at 11 pm! But look where we are now,” Greg takes two steps away from the window towards his marble-topped nightstand. He ...
My mother’s dead. She died several days ago. I’m inside her three-bedroom house, which still smells like the perfume she wore. I’m in my childhood bedroom, sitting on my old twin-size mattress, eyeballing the vivid texture of her gray carpet. I’m here because I’m tasked with choosing which of her possessions are worth keeping and which to throw away. Her perfume is woody, mossy, floral, powdery; it lingers in the foyer and in every room. I smell her. I see her footprints on the carpet like animal tracks on the snow. This house and the thi...
Content warning: addiction, drug use, violence, sexual abuse, child abuse Danny’s been a good boy for a long time. He’s cut back on red meat, only buys organic, and never drinks soda. He exercises regularly, presses his clothes, takes two showers a day, and shows up on time for everything. His coworkers know him as a reliable team player who cleans the coffee machine. Danny treats himself and others with respect; he smiles and holds office, elevator, building, and car doors. He’s patient. He talks ...
We were in my BMW 5 series. Ashley was wearing a henley T-shirt that was missing its bottom half. It was sparkling white and wouldn’t have been long enough to cover my six-year-old’s belly. Even though I’d seen her stomach countless times before, it was all I could look at. It was tanned and smooth; freckle-less and hairless. It was the stomach of a young person in her prime that exercised and ate well. It was flat like you see on Instagram.My mom left me the BMW and $250,000 in her Last Will and Testament. She died from a brain an...
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