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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Feb, 2023
Submitted to Contest #274
There were no more doves at Uncle Jack’s house.It was a funny thing to notice. Livvy didn’t care much about birds. Her brother, Kit, was the expert. Every morning he sat out in their backyard and drew every bird that visited the feeder, even though they were just the plain ordinary ones you saw every day, like pigeons and sparrows. He never let Livvy sit out with him—she was too noisy, he said, and never sat still, and scared all the birds away. Not that she cared. Still, when she thought of Uncle Jack’s house, she remembered sunlight s...
Shortlisted for Contest #204 ⭐️
TW: Animal death, violence“Coyotes have the gift of seldom being seen; they keep to the edge to the edge of vision and beyond, loping in and out of cover on the plains and highlands. And at night, when the whole world belongs to them, they parlay at the river with the dogs, their higher, sharper voices full of authority and rebuke. They are an old council of clowns, and they are listened to.” —N. Scott MomodayAlan shot the coyote on a Saturday, just before sundown.It was a good, clean shot, maybe through the heart. He’d been sitting out on t...
Shortlisted for Contest #185 ⭐️
CW: Death, grief I couldn’t even bring myself to throw out your mug. It wasn’t even a nice mug. The rim was chipped. The ceramic was lumpy—I was almost positive you’d made it yourself—and for some reason, you’d painted it the color of pea soup. Out of all of your things, this should have been the easiest to get rid of. And instead I stood in the kitchen for fifteen minutes, like an idiot, just holding it, and then I put it back on the shelf. You hadn’t even liked this mug. “I was planning on throwing that away anyway,” I could imagine ...
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