Sophia Gardenia

Author on Reedsy Prompts since May, 2022

Stories (14)

14 Stories

266 karma pts

?

“Obey, Number 25” by Sophia Gardenia

THIS STORY IS UNFINISHED Wake up. It’s the first Command every one of us gets as soon as the numbers on the clock at the end of the Sleeping Hall read 6:00 AM. Not that we ever see the numbers shift from 5:59 AM to 6:00 AM. We’re never commanded to wake up before 6:00 AM. As one, all 50 members of Legion 306 sit up in our cots, feet straight out in front, backs ramrod straight. Get up. As one, 50 men swing their legs out of bed and into 50 pairs of slippers. <...

12 comments 12
Read story

“Why Do You Write?” by Sophia Gardenia

Why do you write? The question bounces around in your brain, ricocheting off memories, imaginings, ideas, aches, desires, anxieties, and dreams, evading answers. It’s a question asked by colleges considering whether to accept you into their creative writing program. A question asked by professors trying to get your creative juices flowing. By parents worrying about how you’re paying your bills. By yourself wo...

22 comments 22 SHORTLIST ⭐️
Read story

“To Kill a Dog” by Sophia Gardenia

CW: swearing. Kidnapping your neighbor’s dog in the middle of the night when you suffered from arthritic knees was probably not a good idea, but Brian was doing it anyway. The muggy air clung to his skin like a wet bathing suit as he stood couched in the shadows of his house, cloth sack in hand. He’d already purchased some chloroform; all he had to do was stuff Fifi into a sack, and voila, all his problems would disappear. Brian couldn't help grinning at the thought of a world without Fifi. After glancing furt...

4 comments 4
Read story

“Samshoblo” by Sophia Gardenia

Author’s note: Much of this story takes place in the Republic of Georgia, where my dad is from. I dedicate this story to him, for teaching me Georgian, among other things. *****TW: Death. I never expected to have the rug ripped out from under my feet on a Sunday morning, drinking stale coffee, watching Meet the Press, and sitting on a soft leather couch that smelled and looked like vomit. I couldn’t feel the phone in my hand or hear Chuck Todd’s analysis of the latest political fire. As if I w...

14 comments 14
Read story

“A Narrator's Musings” by Sophia Gardenia

“And then they lived happily ever… You know what? I can’t take this shit anymore. CUT!” yelled the narrator.“Uh, what now?” the princess scrunched her brows.The prince let go of the princess and stomped over to the narrator. “What the hell, man? I was just about to kiss her! Finish the story!”“And then? At least you get to hook up with her! No one cares about the narrator when the story finishes, so I’m just going to say, right here, right now. I’m the narrator, I’m important, and y’all need to respect me!”“You...

10 comments 10
Read story

“Over and Over” by Sophia Gardenia

TW: physical abuse, alcoholism, death The piquant salty scent of the ocean conjures memories for me, memories long forgotten in the dark recesses of my mind. Memories grayed from the march of time, grayed from barely seeing the light of my notice. The sea and sky are stormy today, green as pickles and gray as mold. The waves pound the shore with a thunder that rocks everything around me. A plastic water bottle bobs in the water, sinking into the water and then popping back up. Over and over. Sand crabs leave little Vs...

7 comments 7
Read story

“Sleep Tight” by Sophia Gardenia

"Urnhhhh," I groan. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. The alarm is still going. February 8. Monday. 7 AM. Awesome. How much did I actually sleep last night? I try to roll out of bed, but fail because I'm tangled in my sheets. My pillow is near my feet, and my bed covers are on the floor. Guess I'll have to update my notion of how much of a restless sleeper I am. Again. Getting dressed is a blur. At least my parents have already left for work. I'm so tired I can barely stand. My hair is sticking out all over the place, and I have d...

8 comments 8
Read story

“An Apple a Day...” by Sophia Gardenia

 Today is October 7th, a day for love and a day for death. The joyful screams of children suffuse the air of the Green Valley Apple Orchard. Families are filling little red wagons with freshly picked apples. It’s a bit late in the apple season, but that doesn’t stop me or any other people here from looking for the last unpicked treasures. Two white paper bags dangle from my hands as I wend my way through the rows of apple trees. The green leaves of the apple trees rustle in the wind, and a little chill worms its way throu...

9 comments 9
Read story

“The Holly and the Ivy” by Sophia Gardenia

I QUIT! It takes all my willpower to swallow the words back, even though I want to scream them so bad. The old man in front of me stares expectantly.“I’m sorry, could you repeat your order, please? It’s been a long day.” Understatement. I’ve been standing at this damn counter for nine hours, with only two bathroom breaks and one ten-minute lunch. The man nods sympathetically. “One bacon cheeseburger and a coke, please.”“One bacon cheeseburger!” I yell to Xavier, who gets to work slapping toge...

6 comments 6
Read story

“2352 Elizabeth Avenue” by Sophia Gardenia

Everyone on the street was out on their porches on Saturday morning when the U-Haul pulled up to 2352 Elizabeth Avenue. The unfortunate few who hadn’t depleted their savings accounts constructing fancy verandas peeked out of their windows or pretended to mow their already-manicured lawns. Mrs. Woods, the nosiest of them all, wheedled Mrs. Smith out of her poodle and paraded up and down Elizabeth Avenue with the borrowed poodle until the U-Haul was unpacked and driven away.  Mr. Harking, the recently late owner of 2352 Elizabe...

6 comments 6
Read story

“The Language of Cooking” by Sophia Gardenia

I watch in anguish as Todd cooks dinner. Unfortunately, Todd does not speak the Cookish, the language of cooking, as I do. He doesn’t hear the onions as they moan, chop us more uniformly! Some of us are an inch wide while others are just millimeters wide! He doesn’t listen to the ground beef in the pan crying, stir me! I will clump and won’t cook properly if you don’t! The kitchen knife is yelling, <...

4 comments 4
Read story

“The Twisted Reality of the Afterlife” by Sophia Gardenia

CW: suicide, substance abuse, swearing.I’m dead. You’re probably thinking, Yeah right. You’re just saying that to hook me in. What you’re really going to say is, “Dead because my parents found out that I’ve been sneaking chocolate from their secret stash.” But seriously. I am dead (although I have stolen chocolate from my parents).I’ll just tell you how I died before you ask. Cocaine overdose. Don’t feel sorry for me. It wasn’t entirely an accident. Remember, kids, don’t do drugs.On second thought, do feel so...

1 comment 1
Read story

“It is Time” by Sophia Gardenia

TW: Death, blood.Your dead eyes, open still in agony, bore into my body, my soul. Your skin is as white as a winter sun, but unlike it, you are cold, cold as hoarfrost. My fingers freeze as I brush the dust off your body and adjust your clothes. You were buried under debris when I found you. Now you will be buried under dirt. You came from the earth, and now you will return to it. It is time. Even if it was not your time to die.The whoosh of the shovel is my song, its handle my tether to reality. Push in, lift...

2 comments 2
Read story

“The Warning Whistle” by Sophia Gardenia

The tea kettle is whistling, screeching. “Where are you going?” Marge asks, turning off the stove and rummaging through the cupboard for a tea bag.I reply, “Bathroom.”“Are you showering? I could come with you,” she waggles her eyebrows.“No, not now.”Fifteen minutes later, I step out of the bathroom, toweling off my wet hair.Marge frowns when she sees me and sets down her tea cup. “I thought you weren’t showering.”“I lied,” I saunter over to her and put my hands on her hips. “But you know I love yo...

6 comments 6
Read story

Author bio

"Life is like shit-it's a pain in the ass, but once it works its way out, it's great." -Sophia Gardenia If that doesn't say enough, I... - love to write, read, run, bike, crochet, and cook. - am currently working on a dystopian novel, although it's slow going (read: not going). - am incredibly grateful to Reedsy and everyone on it; you all make me a better writer.

Shortlisted 1 story ⭐️

Contest #186
Why Do You Write? – read story