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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Mar, 2025
Submitted to Contest #309
She spots him near the café window just as the rain begins to fall — not heavy, not dramatic, just enough to blur the line between past and present. He’s older now, of course. Less hair. A little more quiet in the shoulders. But the way he stirs his coffee with the spoon still in his left hand? His eyes, his lips, the broad shoulders, the presence. She’d know that anywhere. She didn’t mean to walk in. He looks up as the bell above the door jingles, and their eyes meet.Then — just as she starts to turn away — he says it:“Do I know you?” The c...
Submitted to Contest #300
"If you don't know where you're going, any road will get you there". Adam always believed that every path in life was set out like a roadmap, a clear direction from point A to point B. But on a cold November morning, with his breath misting in the pale light and the road ahead shrouded in mist, he realized that the path he had chosen was nothing more than a suggestion. He had once set off with certainty—to leave behind a city that had betrayed him, to find meaning and redemption somewhere out there in the wild unknown. Starting over. Yet ...
Submitted to Contest #299
You never know, your next step might be the one that changes everything. John Anderson stood outside the nondescript office building, hands jammed in his coat pockets, rehearsing lines he wouldn't say. It was a gray Thursday afternoon, and the sky hung heavy with a threat of rain. He counted the bricks above the doorway. Anything to delay going in. Out of 10, He had made it so far to Step Nine. It reads: "Make direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others." He'd breezed through the first few...
Submitted to Contest #298
It was too early for the city to be loud. The rain had washed the streets clean, but not quiet. Tires hissed over the wet asphalt. Distant sirens blinked red through mist. A 35 year old Peter walked without direction, aimlessly, hands deep in his coat pockets, collar turned up, the morning cold finding his skin anyway. He passed a bakery just opening. The woman inside caught his eye through the window and offered a soft smile. He didn’t return it. Not because he was rude, but because he didn’t know how anymore. Six months ago, there was a ve...
Submitted to Contest #297
The train station was quiet in the way only small towns could be quiet. A single bench, a vending machine half-stocked with expired soda, and a board with peeling letters: Eldridge Station. It was 6:17 AM. The sun had just begun to yawn over the horizon. Leah sat alone on the bench, fingers wrapped around a travel mug of burnt coffee. Her knee bounced in rhythm with the distant ticking of the overhead light that refused to stay fully on. She hadn’t slept in almost two days. She glanced at her phone. Still no signal. Somewhere in the distance...
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