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Sonia So

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Dec, 2024

Stories (22)

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22 Stories

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IPO

Sonia So

Submitted to Contest #304

Raymond Kwokson finally woke after what felt like years: there was actual quiet, a soft-sided bliss, at 8:30 am. No red-eye emails, no punctilious markups, and—miracle of miracles—no deadlines nipping at his spine. Emerging zombie-like from his bedroom, he wandered to the kitchen, longing only for a bowl of fish congee and some colourful Hong Kong-style pickles, finally, a break from the world's constant pings.Instead, he found himself confronted by a new mystery. Spread across the counter, stacked on the chairs, wedged even between the rice...

0 likes

Beneath the Camellias

Sonia So

Submitted to Contest #303

Odelia lingered beneath the old camellia bush, the fragrant petals brushing her knuckles, dew catching in her wild hair. In the blue hush before dawn, she studied her own reflection in the window's dark pane. The face she saw was still elegant, full of sharp memory—a face that once dazzled crowds and won the city beauty crown, Richard's arm proudly circling her waist. She traced the old line of her jaw, thinking how beauty distils the world's attention yet leaves the soul unguarded.House 16, Rosary Street, loomed above her, its flawless gard...

2 likes

The White

Sonia So

Submitted to Contest #302

In the vibrant, ever-glowing metropolis of MongKokia—a city stitched together with midnight glass and rivers of neon, alive with alleys scented with jasmine and spice—Camila moved as a living mystery. Her pallor shimmered in a way that sunlight rarely touched; her blue eyes held secrets colder than the mountain melt. She glided through crowds of burnished gold, deep ebonies, olive greens, luscious browns, her air almost too silent and always apart. MongKokia buzzed with the hum of countless dialects rooted in distant places, but none rang lo...

8 likes

Lord, Have Mercy

Sonia So

Submitted to Contest #301

In Lamtinaland, a city alive with neon towers and ceaseless technological hum, the clash of human aspiration and unpredictable fate was never far from mind. I, Emma Lockhart, a journalist, seeker, and one-time conductor of narratives, often trust too much in my ability to make sense of things.Yet, at the heart of my Christian faith, I was reminded that we were not the Lord. That Latin echo—"Evita", to listen for those who have ears, had become a lesson I was still learning. There was a wisdom, kinder and more immense than any human narrative...

8 likes

A Big Deal

Sonia So

Submitted to Contest #301

Gaga Wodkrthuh crashed into her Tokyo life not with careful plans but with bright-eyed bravado—a suitcase crammed with manga, hair in rebellious tangles, and a mind seething with wild schemes shimmering miles ahead of reality. The scent of Soka University’s manicured grass and chalk dust had barely faded from her coat when the city swept her into a kaleidoscope of neon—electric pink kanji humming over streetcorners, yakitori smoke curling beneath the pale moon, distant shrieks from midnight traffic. She said goodbye to the tidy campus and he...

3 likes

Scoops of Love On Omote-Sando Ave.

Sonia So

Submitted to Contest #300

Since childhood, Arisa had battled type 1 diabetes, a well-guarded secret that shaped every aspect of her life. Bound to an insulin pump and vigilant about every morsel she consumed, she lived with discipline and a twinge of longing. Her doctor, compassionate but strict, only allowed her one small indulgence—a single scoop of ice cream each month. That rare moment of sweetness was more than a treat; it was a celebration of freedom, no matter how fleeting. That day, it was very hot, so Arisa made her eager way to the ice cream cart. She notic...

3 likes

Make Me A Channel Of Your Peace

Sonia So

Submitted to Contest #300

Dr. Francis Alvarez’s hands—steady, scarred, always faintly scented of iodine—were legendary in the battered Kowloonya camp, symbols of hope whispered among shaking children: “Saint Francis knows every bird, listens for every broken heart.” Adults clung to his evening promise, “Every heartbeat is a note in our song; the world keeps playing it because you’re in it.” When darkness crowded out courage, Francis softly sang, “Make me a channel of your peace, where there is hatred, let me bring your love…” The simple melody, trembling on his lips,...

4 likes

A Mistaken Journey, A Just-Right Odyssey

Sonia So

Submitted to Contest #300

Benedit’s apartment in Lyon was filled with the chatter of relatives and the aroma of coffee. I found him, settled behind his work desk in a sunlit sitting room, carefully writing on a sheet of thick, white rice paper. The bold, fluid lines of calligraphy captured my attention: a quote from "La Grande Étude"—the virtue, renewal, and goodness he so prized. He looked up, a flicker of warmth and sadness in his eyes. Our conversation skimmed from practical details to gentle teasing, but beneath the words, I sensed the finality of tomorrow’s cere...

6 likes

Investment Bankers Never Say Sorry

Sonia So

Submitted to Contest #299

Look, in the Hong Kong trading jungle, the investment banks, the traders, the dealers, nobody ever fails—at least, not out loud. Not Banker Benny “Big Beef” Lee. Here, if you make a bad call, you'd better have a story ready. If you so much as mention the word “mistake,” you might as well turn in your market badge, your karaoke mic, and your hopes of ever eating dim sum with the high rollers again.A baking-hot Friday in Central. Skyscrapers gleamed, tempers simmered, and Benny was about to make investment history—just not the good kind. Lions...

16 likes

Into The Fire

Sonia So

Submitted to Contest #297

People called me Christopher Tam, and I always thought of myself as an ordinary guy. If you asked me, I’d tell you I wasn’t much to look at—plain, unremarkable—a face easily lost among the crowd. My features rarely attracted attention, and the mirror often reflected someone so nondescript that I sometimes wished it didn’t reflect anything at all. I buried myself in routine: chasing quotas as a salesman for semi-manufactured computer chips. Numbers were safer than emotions. The back-to-back schedule of work comforted me—not because I loved it...

8 likes

Just Another Believer

Sonia So

Submitted to Contest #296

In 1978, nestled against the shadowy curves of Whispering Mountain lies Orchid Hollow, a rural village steeped in crimson devotion. The homes are small and weathered, yet almost every one is unified by a shared icon: Chairman Lian, the national savior. His portrait, framed in delicate wood and lacquered in shades of vermillion, adorns living room walls like a shrine to a deity. With piercing eyes and a majestic green shirt, his image watches over families as they whisper prayers for guidance and strength. Mei Mei, a young girl left in her gr...

9 likes

A Murder Is Announced

Sonia So

Submitted to Contest #295

Late one evening in Yulin, Guangxi, a cryptic announcement appears across social media and local news outlets: “A murder is announced: June 21st, 8 PM. Location: X Street. Supporters are encouraged to attend.” The chilling message spreads like wildfire, sending waves of fear and curiosity throughout the city. For some, it’s a macabre invitation; for others, it's a silent threat. But for one man, it feels like destiny—a grotesque alignment of his darkest desire. In a shadowed tea shop along the bustling X Street, Gregory Hales sits alone at a...

11 likes

Vivian García The Oscar Best Actress

Sonia So

Submitted to Contest #294

The room shimmers with a golden glow as the grand Oscars stage commands the world’s attention. Applause bursts like waves through the theater. Vivian García’s heart pounds against her chest, her body frozen in disbelief. She hears her name ring through the air—Ariana Grande, radiant in a gown fit for the stars, calls it again. “And the Oscar goes to… Vivian García!”A Lifetime Condensed into a MomentAt 45, Vivian sits motionless amidst Hollywood’s elite, her face a canvas of shock and raw emotion. Tears fill her eyes as the sound of her name ...

12 likes

A Rose Is A Rose, With Or Without A Prince

Sonia So

Submitted to Contest #293

Florence Wiseht reclined into the sumptuous leather seat of the private jet as the engines roared to life, heralding the start of her odyssey. Beyond the window, the golden rays of the setting sun sprawled across the airport tarmac like a warm embrace. While the world bustled around her, Florence remained in her own serene bubble, lost in contemplation, her fingers gently caressing the dog-eared copy of The Little Prince that lay on the tray table. The book, tattered from years of companionship, had been her steadfast anchor since childhood....

6 likes

Is Black A Colour?

Sonia So

Submitted to Contest #292

Based On Real Events & The Latest Accounts Of The Hiroshima Bomb Survivors It’s August 6th, 1945. In Hiroshima, the morning unfolds with deceptive tranquility. I am Eriko, fifteen years old, weaving through this ordinary day with a mix of youthful resolve and an aching dread I work hard to suppress. My long black hair falls in two haphazard braids, a childhood habit I somehow cling to. I wear a faded pastel kimono, once adorned with vibrant cherry blossom patterns, now ghostly outlines of what they used to be. But such details are trivi...

6 likes