reedsymarketplace
Hire professionals for your project
reedsyblog
Advice, insights and news
reedsylearning
Online publishing courses
reedsylive
Free publishing webinars
reedsydiscovery
Launch your book in style
Author on Reedsy Prompts since May, 2025
Submitted to Contest #313
“Are you there, God? It’s me… and I’m covered in jellyfish.” My statement echoed off the cavern walls, followed by a soft squelching noise as I peeled a translucent, slightly bioluminescent creature off my face. Behind me, Gregory groaned and slumped against a rock that was definitely cursed. His crimson robes were soaked and dripping, his boots squishing audibly. “Rowan. Remind me again why we agreed to fetch the Orb of Calamity from a shrine inside a gelatinous abyss full of jellyfish that have a taste for flesh?” “Because Nyla said it...
Submitted to Contest #308
We called it the Summer of Cicadas. The noise was unbearable at times—waves of it, rising and falling like breathing. They sang from the trees, from cracks in the soil, from the air itself, it seemed. If you stopped talking, stopped thinking, it filled your head completely. A constant, high-pitched reminder that something massive was happening just under the surface.I hated it then. But now…I’d give anything to hear it again.That summer was blistering, like the heat had decided to sit down on the earth and never get up again. The air was thi...
Submitted to Contest #305
He looked between us once more and said, “It’s either her or me…” Silence. Tense, exasperated silence in the room. The kind that hangs in the air like the scent of burned toast or a potion that caught fire. “I—what?” I blinked, still covered in sparkly green chicken feathers, the residual effect of a misfired polymorph. “Did you seriously just make this into a jealous ultimatum, Gregory?” Gregory, a fellow sorcerer, crossed his arms, his long crimson robes billowing a little too dramatically in the windless cave. “Yes. Yes, I did. You’ve for...
Submitted to Contest #304
I do not fear the sun.Let us start from there. It is a myth, one of many. The sun does not burn me to ash, nor do I collapse in a pile of dust when a sliver of dawn creeps through the curtains. No. The truth is duller and stranger—I simply wilt. I slow, I fade. My blood grows thick and sluggish. My thoughts blur. The world becomes a pale imitation of itself. By day, I am a ghost of what I was. But when the sun sets…when the sky bruises and the stars open their mouths—then I awaken. Not just to hunger, though yes, that is always there, but t...
Oops, you need an account for that!
Log in with your social account:
Or enter your email:
5 likes
