Sienna Baker

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jul, 2020

Stories (7)

7 Stories

110 karma pts

?

“Top Ten Things To Do (Before I Die)” by Sienna Baker

Submitted to Contest #74

10: Go to Norway That’s how these lists always start out, isn’t it? Something real bloody generic. Like, nobody cares that you want to go to Norway. Just like nobody cares about your vacation pictures, or that your dog died, or that you got the flu, unless they’re in close proximity to you. I wonder if anyone will really care about my death. But in all seriousness, Norway would be a cool place to go to in the last few months I have. It had been something suggested to me by my first ever girlfriend, when I was nineteen, and thought, yea...

Read story

“The Fall” by Sienna Baker

Submitted to Contest #74

Before the fall, she had been envisioning bliss at the bottom. Now, she was simply terrified. 1 In the first moment, she remembered what her mother had said to her once about what to do if you find yourself falling off a building. She had said, don’t waste your final moments feeling terrified, or sad about your life’s imminent end. Instead, enjoy them. Imagine something good. Remember something good. You may not have control over your body any more, but you have control over your mind. These words were easier said with one’s feet safely on t...

Read story

“The (Series of) Indecent Proposals” by Sienna Baker

Submitted to Contest #73

Part 1 We are the group of a ridiculous mass that you dread seeing walk into your calm, quiet restaurant. Except the seat to the left of me is empty. It is a party of fifteen minus one. “He’ll show up.” Leila whispers into my ear, from the chair my right. Something in me quiets. Across from me, my mother babbles furiously away. “He probably lost the bloody address, even though I told him a squillion times.” I say after a few seconds. “He’s a twenty-four year old college stoner.” Leila said. “They’re not known for being the most responsible p...

Read story

“The Self-Fulfilling Prophecy” by Sienna Baker

Submitted to Contest #72

August 3rd, 2046. 12:28 am. There has been a girl at the bar, for some few nights in a row now. She sits at a stool closest to the furthest wall, drinks two gin and tonics very slowly, and talks to no-one. Exactly two hours after she arrives, she leaves as quietly as she came. She seems noticed by nobody. I have only noticed myself, having started to work the later evening shift this past week. Many more interesting faces enter the bar later at night, when they say a ‘true humanity’ is revealed in all its glory. I don’t want to succumb to...

Read story

“A Series of Failures in Hierarchy” by Sienna Baker

Submitted to Contest #71

The call came in at 8:45am. It had, since the start of his shift at 6am, been a run-of-the-mill day for Officer Jones, if not relatively quiet, with only two nuisance complaints near the Northern Beaches. “52 Noodler Street, in the shopping junction,” the woman on the line had told him, in a very bored voice, “man’s reported a B and E at the bakery, but won’t say what’s been taken.” Jones took a long sip of his coke. “I’ve got it.” Five minutes later, he pulled up to the small (yet rather thoughtfully decorated, he thought, for if he hadn’...

Read story

“The Modern Sisyphus” by Sienna Baker

Submitted to Contest #70

Now This is how it goes. I begin again. I loved her, this much is true, and people will say I didn’t, but I did. Who are they to say that, though, anyway? Everyone defines love how they’ve experienced it. Some definitions are tender, and some are violent, and neither is less worthy of the label. I walk around the dead city. The little rivers and moats which threaded through the walking routes like arteries of the human body; the water held in the modern architecture of the business district fell black under the darkness of night; lifele...

Read story

“The Importance of Names” by Sienna Baker

Submitted to Contest #68

On the edge of a cliff one Spring in Maryland the wind was calm and the air was pleasantly cool, smelling of anticipation for humidity but being in the sweet spot of not being quite there yet. The morning was just beginning, and the Woman sat by an art installation reading I propose that we meet here once a year until one of us can’t or won’t. She put a cigarette to her lips and gently inhaled. “That’ll kill you, you know.” The Man said, sitting down beside her on the cliffs edge and leaning back on his palms. “And I suppose you’ll never di...

Read story

Author bio

Hi there. I've loved writing ever since I was a kid. I want to test the boundaries in terms of genres and themes because I'm naturally driven to the most dramatic, often depressing types of stories which explore interpersonal relationships.