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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jan, 2025
Late in the Afternoon on a Sunday"There is no time in the day, or in the week, or in the year, to grasp all the knowledge that is underneath the sun, no time to practice and hone all the skills valuable and useful in this world, no time, no, not nearly enough. Everyone always says, and I said it along with them, mind you, that time seems to pass faster as you age. The time you live, I suppose, or at least supposed, for I am having doubts about this assessment, is shorter in relation to that which you have already lived, which accounts for th...
God makes no mistakes; only what man interprets as mistakes due to his limited faculties, or mistakes made by man due to his impaired faculties. As far as perceived mistakes go, the Serengeti does not usually cross the mind of the average tourist. A sunset casts a striking silhouette of an acacia tree, leaves like a blackened cloud. Wildebeest migrate in unfathomable hoards, a swelling surge of raw life traversing the plains and rivers alike with a degree of stubborn patience only graced upon those of the animal kingdom. Giraffes peer over t...
It is page 1. You wake up before dawn. You are in your bed, a mat on the ground. You get out of bed. You brush your teeth. You eat your breakfast.A certain percentage of you eat breakfast before you brush your teeth; do you not?You get dressed. You pack your supplies. Dried food, cooking equipment and water. Tarp and rope for an A-frame. Shovels for a fire pit. Clothes, a head torch, several knives and a rifle. A bucket; no, two, a sponge and some bleach. You drive out to the mountains.I am going to suppose that a high percentage of you do n...
Submitted to Contest #284
December 24th, 1998Eveningtime at Nana’s place carried a strange aroma. As far as I can recall, this was the first time I had noticed it. I was sitting in the damp grass of the backyard, exhausted after a laborious game of tag, cool sweat rolling sweetly down my neck. I pointed my small nose toward the stars, inhaling satiating jugs of air and letting out cathartic sighs. It was a true-blue suburban Christmas, surrounded by family, cousins and all, with Christmas lights and a Christmas tree, crowned by a Christmas star. Candles, bourbons and...
Note: contains brief discussion of sexual and other violenceCrooked Man Dying"...man is unique in this way. He has passions, but the passions can be conquered by reason and by the will. Will you repent of your ways, in your final hour?"The chained man reclined, sure of his own guilt and relishing in it. "Father, I have done nothing right, so why am I in these chains?"Sarcasm, then. "Sincerity is not to be devalued. There is still some good in you; you have not yet met the devil.""I am the devil," he mused absentmindedly, checking his fingern...
A nervous glance. An uncomfortable shift. A tentative smile, quickly but not-so-subtly wiped away by feigned interest in whatever we were just talking about. I live in fear of these things. Well...fear is a strong word, how about; dread. They manifest my uncontrollable desires, my urge for connection. But that's not what girls want. Girls want a man who's calm and composed, strong, yet kind, firm, yet soft, intelligent, yet humble. But how can I have those things? I can't, is the simple answer.Cassie is very beautiful; or at least I assume s...
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