Seyna Elizabeth

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jan, 2021

Stories (4)

4 Stories

73 karma pts

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“Perhaps a Tragedy” by Seyna Elizabeth

Submitted to Contest #120

Svatava I had met the love of my life five years earlier when we both worked in the textile factory. Our stools were side by side. Every so often our elbows would brush, and we’d trade a shy smile. She was strong, that was the first thing I noticed about Tereza. She had strong hands and her fingers always knew exactly where they needed to go. She never stumbled or faltered. She would have been described as elegant if it weren’t for her wide, square jawline and her narrowed eyes. Her eyes were what kept the others from approaching her. Tho...

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“The Forester-Smythe Home for Friendly Shadows” by Seyna Elizabeth

Submitted to Contest #92

Shiloh Forester-Smythe shivered as a ghost moved through her before digging her hands back into the pie crust she was kneading. Shy was in her twenties, composed of golden curls and a sweet round face and eyes too big and too blue to ignore in most settings. She was short but carried herself as if she were seven feet tall and by the time they left her company, most people would remember her being larger than life. But above all, she was warm. Shy had always been warm and kind since she could remember and that made her what she was: a witch...

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“Harried Hearts” by Seyna Elizabeth

Submitted to Contest #76

Eden Bellegarde: We can’t just leave them here. Celeste Levesque: Of course, we can’t! But what are we supposed to do? Eden: Uh… Celeste: Exactly! You’re supposed to be the shining star and you’re just as fucking clueless—ugh whatever. Just— Eden: No! What the fuck were you going to say? Is this about— Celeste: I said to fucking forget it, okay? We have bigger issues right now. Eden: Right… the bunnies. Any ideas? Celeste: Only one, really. Eden: Wanna share with the rest of us? Celeste: You can be really annoying, you know that? Eden: Yea...

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“Death and the Dancer” by Seyna Elizabeth

Submitted to Contest #75

"What's happening to me?" The woman couldn't have been older than twenty-five. She was a dancer, a ballerina. It was the latter fact that put her in my charge. It was the former fact that made me pity her. I laid a hand on her shoulder and nudged her along. It was time to begin. "I am afraid that you have died, my dear," I said in my gentlest voice, "I am here to lead you to the next place." This bit always required a bit of patience and I, with the so-called blessing of immortality and nothing else to do, rarely ever found myself with a l...

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Author bio

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