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Sjan Evardsson

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Dec, 2019

Stories (258)

Comments

Library

301 Followers

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258 Stories

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I'm Gonna Blow Stuff Up

“I don’t wanna.”“What do you mean, you don’t wanna?”“Nope. Not doing it. It’s not fun. I’m not doing anything else unless it’s fun.”Ryan misjudged when he swept the wayward curl of hair out of his face and managed to smudge his glasses. He took them off, wiped them on his tee-shirt, and gave an exaggerated sigh of exasperation. “What am I going to do with you?”“I don’t know, but I’m not taking part unless it’s fun.”“Sera, there will time for fun after you finish your chores.”“That’s all I ever do, chores, chores, and more chores. And I hate ...

4 likes

Rough Beginnings

Roxy hummed a quiet song, remaining as still as she could. The little head peeked out from its hiding place behind the tree, the large ears pinned back in fear. Roxy was careful not to react, continuing to hum the song that was stuck in her head. Whatever it was, it was frightened, and possibly wounded, if the blood on the ground belonged to it. The only way she could help would be to get the creature’s trust. As she hummed, she heard the creature’s high-pitched whine in response. She made sure not to look directly at it, lest she scare it...

4 likes

A Profoundly Unhappy Man

Herman Fish Jr. was a profoundly unhappy man. Life had dealt him a poor hand, as he saw it, and it looked as though that wouldn’t improve any time soon. The new neighbor was just another proof that life had singled him out for misery. The day Asha Hassan moved in, he’d introduced himself and tried to welcome her to the complex, and she responded in a most rude manner. That was all he needed to know about her: rude. She was living in the apartment on the other side of the wall…and she was there to make his life more of a hell than it already...

5 likes

Monday Before Taco Tuesday

Submitted to Contest #147

Stephen J. Steyr III missed his old life. Humanity’s ambassador to the Galactic Combine, he had been plucked from his position as a professor of linguistics at Kenyon College, Ohio. He knew he had to follow along and make nice, smile without showing teeth, and accept the award graciously. He also knew it was undeserved. As the Speaker of the Combine read off his “heroic” deeds, Stephen wanted to curl up in a ball and disappear. He hadn’t done anything they said he had. “The Honorable Ambassador Steyr from Terra is the true definition of he...

12 likes

Rooftop in Old Rio

The sun sank below the tops of the city, the hundred-story, kilometer square, squat, grey blocks arranged in a neat grid. The ruins they worked their way up, in the heart of the old city, were one-fifth the height. The stairwell was open in spots, the vines having wedged into the mortar and pulled parts of the wall away. Sid looked out one of the holes at the ground far below. “Are you sure this is safe?” “Enough. Nothing’s completely safe.” Ala continued to the roof, waiting for Sid to catch up. “How about,” Sid asked, catching his breat...

5 likes

On-Brand

Waking up in a strange environment, Trevor looked around and chuckled. “On-brand,” he said to no-one in particular. The dull headache told him he’d drunk too much the night before…typical. He had vague recollections of the party and tried to recall faces. Which gal, guy or neither/both had he hooked up with? That he couldn’t recall a name or a face to put it to was something he’d dealt with in the past. It required a certain amount of self-deprecating charm. The room looked like a cheap hotel trying to feel expensive; all white and clean l...

2 likes

Picturing Heritage

Stephanie disconnected the call and heaved a sigh. Her mother’s sudden death had been yet another upheaval in her life. Just like the night before her eleventh birthday, when she’d been ripped out of home and school to travel across the country. Then, it had been her mother’s sudden flight from her father. She knew there’d been tension in their marriage, but no idea how bad it was. What exact thing led to their middle-of-the-night escape from home with a single suitcase her mother refused to talk about. The most she would say was that her f...

1 like

Friends in Secret Places

I first met her a month after my twelfth birthday…the day I got my first period. At first, I thought I had a minor stomach bug. I’d told Mum I’d be fine, and she went to work while I worked on my studies. I was working on a problem in differential calculus — a side benefit of being home-schooled by a theoretical physicist mother — when I felt it.Seeing the stain on my shorts, I cleaned myself up and changed, adding a pad in the way Mum had taught me. I was so excited for it, that I ran to her office to tell her. She wasn’t in her office. The...

5 likes

Funny Machines

Silence is a rare and valuable thing. Even far outside the city, away from everything, sounds are still there; the rustle of leaves in the wind, the soft hum of traffic in the far distance, the airliner crossing the sky. In silence, I can hear my breath, my heartbeat, every twitch of every muscle. In silence, I can hear my thoughts. The world is too noisy. When I was a child, the doctor called it “auditory hypersensitivity.” The earplugs plus the heavy-duty soundproof hearing protectors the closest I could hope to get to that kind of silenc...

2 likes

Are You My Client?

The tall, pale woman dressed in black riding leathers parked her hog behind the small, grey, brick building and locked her helmet to the saddle. A casual stroll around the building, her booted steps quieter than what would be expected, assured her that she was alone.She entered Frank’s Diner, ignoring the Health Department scorecard that listed it as “Needs Improvement,” one grade above being closed down. She made her way to her usual table in the back corner, where the lights didn’t seem to reach. The floors were sticky and stained, the cha...

1 like

First Collar

I remember…how could I not? I knew it would be an important day for me, but not like that. Graduating from the police academy…that’s a big deal, no matter who you are. For a gnome, though, it was momentous. I was the first gnome to complete the New Amsterdam Police Academy, and the only female in my class to pin and cuff our hand-to-hand instructor solo. Twenty years of halfling martial arts came in handy to get that slippery elf on the floor. Commissioner Laura O’Leary gave the commencement address and handed out the badges, standing by a...

4 likes

The Diary of Anne Pettit

Tuesday, 2nd February 1904 Mother says I should keep a diary to practice my writing. I think she just wants time to herself. The laudanum the doctor gave her for her nerves makes her sleep most of the day away. Thursday, 18th February 1904 Mother tried to introduce me to the Grover’s son. I can’t even remember his name. He was most unremarkable. I told her I wasn’t interested in a husband, and she said I’m nearly a spinster. My eighteenth birthday is in a month. I still have time to find someone that piques my interest. As long as I marry...

2 likes

Because It's There?

Luz wondered, as she often did, why she was doing this. Over the years she’d come up with different “reasons,” but none of them felt true. Why was she out here? Why did Shackleton keep returning to Antarctica? Why did Hillary and Norgay risk everything to stand atop Everest? Why did Earhart attempt to fly around the globe? She still didn’t know the answer, but she was certain that it was the same answer for all of them. Whether anyone else would embark on a twenty-one-year adventure, though, was up for debate. It didn’t help that Dr. Ondale...

3 likes

One Square Centimeter of Nothing

It wasn’t that Jersey loved her tiny flat; in fact, she wasn’t even that fond of it, but it was home. The artificial gravity was glitchy, it took forever to get hot water from the tap, power outages were a monthly occurrence, and the recycler hadn’t worked for months. Still, the idea that a faceless corporation could take it away from her made her angry. She marched through the station, strawberry blonde curls bouncing around her pale, pink-cheeked face, headed for the administration office. In her hand she clutched a data cube with her lea...

2 likes

The Last Manuscript

Agnes placed the stack of papers into the box. She ran a wrinkled hand across the cover sheet at the top. She closed the box and sealed it with shipping tape. With a marker and a careful hand, she wrote her return address on the upper left, then the address of the publisher in the center. That done, she moved to the kitchen to make her breakfast. A bowl on the counter and a box of cold cereal in her hand, she stopped. “Agnes,” she said aloud to herself, “you deserve to celebrate today.” She put the cold cereal away and made an egg, sunny...

3 likes