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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Sep, 2024
Submitted to Contest #272
TW: Car accident, death I want to tell myself that it isn’t real. The nausea grinding in my solar plexus? Just the byproduct of clinical anxiety. The constant headache? A result of chewing too much gum or an allergy to dust. I want to think that I am depressed, burnt out and exhausted. To think is to believe, my grandmother always warned me. I tell myself what I think is not real. I need to stop believing it. Why then, I wonder, hand in my pocket, inhaling the cold, am I here? Because, if I really didn’t believe it, I would be at home ...
Shortlisted for Contest #270 ⭐️
THE BARGAIN The old mahogany grandfather clock chimed exactly 4:30 pm on a slow creeping spring afternoon in the soul of the southland. “Well,” Betilda Swanson, known to her book club and church group as Tilly, said as she gazed into the eyes of the figure perched on the old pink Victorian sofa in her drawing room. “Will you do it?” The visitor looked back at her over the coffee table, his large form reclining awkwardly, as if the smooth fabric grated against his skin. On the yellow oak table, their cup of tea sat untouched on its saucer, th...
Submitted to Contest #269
BOSOM COMPANIONS It wasn’t supposed to be like this. When Anatoly took the assignment from Gio Giordano, the godfather of the Giordano family, it was supposed to be an easy “in and out.” Get the archaeologist, drop him in the middle of jungle in an undisclosed location in Central America, find the breastplate, and then fly first class back to his house in the Philadelphia suburbs with pockets approximately five hundred thousand dollars heavier. Called “The Ax” by those in the business, Anatoly was true to his name. He broke into the a...
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