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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jan, 2024
Submitted to Contest #253
The silence in Allan's normally bustling office was deafening. The phone, once a relentless harbinger of deadlines and crises, sat dormant. His inbox, usually overflowing with urgent emails, displayed a stark emptiness. Allan, a tightly wound coil for the past eighteen years, was finally unraveled, courtesy of a promotion that never came. He'd dedicated his life to the mining company, clawing his way up from a fresh-faced trainee to a respected supervisor. For eighteen long months, he'd practically lived at the mine, filling in for the perpe...
Submitted to Contest #248
Ziggy Starr the Third, or Ziggy as his human (whom he generously tolerated) called him, was not your average feline. He wasn't particularly interested in napping in sunbeams (far too predictable), chasing elusive red dots (tiresome), or meticulously grooming his already pristine fur (a waste of good napping time). No, Ziggy had a far more audacious ambition – to convince his canine companion, a boisterous Jack Russell Terrier named Bandit, that he was, in fact, a dog himself. The idea struck Ziggy one afternoon while Bandit was gleefully cha...
Submitted to Contest #244
The vet's sterile white walls felt like a suffocating embrace. Rain lashed against the windows, mimicking the storm brewing inside Summer. Jaxon, her Cocker Spaniel, lay on the examination table, his once-mighty chest rising and falling in shallow gasps. His fur, usually the colour of black and white, was dull and matted. Summer reached out, her hand trembling as it brushed against Jaxon’s head. He opened his eyes, a spark of recognition flickering within their hazel depths. A weak tail thump sent a pang through Summer’s heart. It had been s...
Thomas "Tom" Windsor Jr. wasn't your average eight-year-old. While other kids dreamt of Legos and video games, Tom dreamt of… well, socks. Specifically, collecting mismatched socks. His room was a colourful explosion of single socks – polka-dotted argyles partnered with neon stripes, fuzzy snowflakes seeking lost partners with argyle diamonds. One sunny afternoon, Tom’s mother, a woman who believed in the therapeutic power of organization, decided to tackle his sock drawer. Little did she know, she was about to unleash chaos on the internet....
Submitted to Contest #241
The sleek, high-rise loomed over Gretta like a metallic guardian. It wasn't just any apartment building; it was The Elysium, a pinnacle of eco-living, boasting vertical gardens and self-regulating energy grids. It was also Gretta’s home and the headquarters of Green Genesis, the environmental collective she co-founded. Green Genesis had taken the tech world by storm. Their ingenious bio-filters, developed through years of tireless research, promised to clean up polluted environments in record time. Gretta, the public face of the organization...
Thomas, the renowned clockmaker, hunched over his latest masterpiece. Not a mere timekeeper, this was a symphony of gears and chimes, its intricate dance designed to predict the tides. Yet, the rhythmic click-clack of the mechanism offered little solace to Thomas’ troubled mind. He was convinced he was on borrowed time. Every customer who lingered by his stall, every whispered conversation across the marketplace, felt like a prelude to a heist. He meticulously monitored his apprentices, John and Anya, their youthful enthusiasm misinterpreted...
Submitted to Contest #239
For twenty-seven years, the toaster had witnessed the sunrise through the kitchen window, the countless meals prepared on the countertop, and the silent comings and goings of the family it served. A simple appliance, humming to life with a metallic click, it had never questioned its existence. But all that changed the day it became aware. It started with a flicker, a spark of consciousness that ignited within its metal frame. The familiar hum took on a new meaning, a melody only it could hear. The world around it sharpened, the once-muted ...
Jaxon squinted at the dusty, endless road stretching before him. The sun beat down mercilessly, reflecting off the cracked asphalt in an unforgiving glare. He raised his hand to shield his eyes, his fingers tracing the faded map tattooed on his palm. It was a simple sketch, a single line, the remnants of a map found in the ruins of a forgotten city. It had promised a new beginning, a haven at the end of this desolate path. But doubt gnawed at him. How long had he been walking? Days? Weeks? Time itself seemed to lose meaning in the relentless...
The gondola swayed gently, its sleek black form gliding through the labyrinthine canals of Venice. Every inch of the scene seemed ripped from a fairy tale – the crimson hues of sunset bleeding into the sky, the romantic melody of an accordion drifting through the air, and Summer, perched at the prow, looking radiant under the warm glow of string lights. Dillon, seated behind her, felt his heart thump a nervous rhythm against his ribs. Every fibre of his being yearned to blurt out the question, but a bead of doubt, tiny and cold, clung to the...
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