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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Feb, 2020
Submitted to Contest #63
Two people sat at a bar table in an old barn that was nicely transformed into a restaurant. Their feet were perched lazily on the two empty seats next to them and they were debating the menu. This was a challenge because they were at the Jones Apple Farm, where the orchards were arranged with diagonal lines that lead to the horizon in a way that made them dizzy. Therefore, everything on the menu was apple-themed and neither of them felt like devouring four to five apple cinnamon buns. “I know it sounds crazy,” Oscar said, gesturing with...
Submitted to Contest #62
ShawnCarnivals were dirty places with middle schoolers making out with cotton candy lips between the tents and college students smoking weed behind the children’s rides. The reason why Wren wanted to come here was buried in the back of my mind with the electricity bills and memories blurred like pencil smudges. There are things I wanted to forget and I knew this experience was one of them. “I used to be one of them, you know,” I told Wren, hooking my arm through his protectively. We smelled deep fried goods and saw the hungry looks...
Lois leaned against the window panes, carelessly letting the afternoon sun bathe her in autumn leaves and wash her problems away. She did this every morning, you noticed, while she ruffled the black and white newspaper and pretended to read it. Everyone knew she couldn’t read, but they didn’t say anything because she could barely keep a conversation alive either. She also hummed. Tunes of darkness like the sticky syrup Al drizzled all over their pancakes on Sundays. Lois couldn’t remember the words but she could remember the instru...
Submitted to Contest #61
Tinsley Everdale only liked things halfway there or halfway done. That’s why when she was seated at the tattoo parlor, fake ID propped between her thumb and pointer finger, she told the man with green pictures beside his eyes to stop inking. It was how it appeared in her dream, succulents bent at odd angles with various types of greenery in the background. Half a garden, just like she wanted. She couldn’t remember exactly, but she thought it was her aunt who exclaimed, “You’ve become a piece of art!” when seeing her fore...
There’s something about wrinkles in the morning. They’re golden with silhouettes of the issues people experienced back in high school. Jax is familiar with them like he is familiar with the ring on his middle finger that binds him to no one. He has one, a wrinkle, and it stretches across his forehead in a diagonal sort of way. Even when he smooths out the skin, it returns, even uglier than before. Perhaps this is the reason why his sister encouraged him to drive into the middle of nowhere with a car that can’t go faster than 30...
Submitted to Contest #60
“I don’t understand,” is what he whispers into your ear, his fingers locked into yours. There’s no key for the chest of secrets you’ve created—you know that much already. He is the man from your nightmares with eyes that are mood rings. They shine like the stars and their court; today they are black and deep. Reminding you of midnight swims in that pool you used to own. You know he understands. He has to. Your throat aches and you head into the kitchen. As you pour water and dump an uncountable amount of grounds into the...
Act I Otis whistled, so keen and clear it could twist the smirk off the valley’s face. The hills shuddered with their orange shoulders and pat the artificial breeze on the back to keep it from crying. Red came up behind him, slipping her hand into his. Eyes dry from just a few feet away, hidden behind the velvet curtains, I wished I was that guy. Tugging on thick ropes like the sun’s burning arms, I heard chirps of anxious birds. The sun’s patch was ripped raw from the quilt of the sky. It swung down to quarrel with the humans and mi...
Submitted to Contest #59
It was the end of the Brown Package season when the women with the wind on their tongues arrived at the house in the mountains. They grasped hands in an eternity sort of way, like past disagreements dissolving into lemons on ice. Their songs were of fairies with broken wings and white lace. The mailman, being jealous and lonely, lingered every afternoon by their peachy mailbox. His scent wafted through the house, overpowering even the burning sage. The woman with eyes that are the moon’s craters, Elinor, peeked through the curt...
Submitted to Contest #58
She says one day you’ll be famous. More lies bubble to her lips as Sheila leads you onto the smooth sidewalks of Hollywood. It’s scorching hot and you imagine yourself as a popsicle. Drip by drip, melting. Inhaling, you smell cigarettes and selfish dreams. This isn’t where you want to be, but she pulls you along. Using your free hand to whip tears of sweat off your forehead, you finally notice the people. They appear different, but they are all the same. Stumbling along the neon streets, your head starts to spin. She sho...
Under normal circumstances, Enzo wouldn’t talk to strangers on elevators. He would lean against the cold metal, gripping the bronze handle to the point of white knuckles, and hum along to the cheesy music under his breath. But these weren’t normal circumstances. He entered the platform, his bulking figure taking up almost half of the space. Cradling the bag of pistachios with one hand, he used the other to type in the floor number. As the doors were closing, he heard a grunt from behind them. A thin, scrawny man skittere...
Submitted to Contest #57
You’re probably heard of my mother. Her name was Anneliese, Ana for short, but that won’t ring a bell for you. With an exaggerated sigh she’d mention people back at school called her Ban-Ana, and suddenly you’d be guffawing uncontrollably. “You’re the girl who’s birthday party was a total flop! Literally!” “Ban-Ana, you want a banana?” “Oh, wait, you’re just going to use it to make disgusting perfume!” Let me tell you how it all started with my mother. . . from the very beginning. There she was, twelve, liv...
Mamma throws open the window, blasting hot air into our apartment. She twists the knob on the radio, and Italian music threads its way onto the gray streets of New York. Abruptly losing all self-control, she breaks into a dance. Hips swaying, fingers snapping, lips humming. Her mouth forms the unfamiliar lyrics like she has heard the song all her life. Wrapping an apron around herself, she bounces over to the kitchen, inhaling sweet fruit and salty nuts. The oven opens, and I spy my favorite dessert on a rusted metal tray. Delicately ...
Submitted to Contest #56
10/2 Dear My Future Child, Once you are born, I will grow old as fast as the autumn leaves shrivel and die. Your mother will wonder why they’re welcoming winter so early this year, but I will suspect it’s because of you. She will die, your mother. From childbirth. Because of you. This is why I will hate you. The seasons will hate you. Your mother was one of them, once. She was an embodiment of Autumn, burying her browning skin and fiery hair into the leaves, camouflaging perfectly. That’s why it was always hard to find...
Submitted to Contest #55
“Can you keep a secret?” The streetlight flickers. My hopes flicker. “No,” I admit. The stars urge me forward into her arms. I step back; the cold night gives me a scowl. I love you, my sister, I try to say. My tongue scraps against my teeth. Blood pools in my mouth. She grabs my wrists. Her nails dig into my skin. The scene seems to change. The streetlight stays the same, casting shadows. My dreams float around me in clouds of regret. There is a park bench. We sit. The wood pierces my back. J...
The final rise of the eastern sun. The tranquil sunrise cast untold shadows across the city. The orange light was reflected in her dark eyes. Long shadows slithered onto her face and made her appear older than she was. Ioni was settled at the local cafe, her nails tapping impatiently against the wooden table. It was now, just before the sun rose fully into the sky, that she called the Golden Hour. Even though people weren’t usually awake at this early hour, there were a few lingerers at the cafe door. She let out a cloud...
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