Stephi Smith

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jan, 2025

Stories (4)

4 Stories

63 karma pts

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“30 adoring years” by Stephi Smith

Submitted to Contest #290

Had I known, I would have asked him not to return me. I hung from the roof and begged him to use his one chance, the one everybody gets to return somebody else’s life to their lungs. A lot of people save it for their kids just in case or their parents for a little extra time but he relinquished his to a stranger. He was the first to find me in a gutter-clean gone wrong. He lived next door but we spoke infrequently enough about nothing that mattered (did trash day get pushed for President’s Day? Has your sink been draining really slow? Is the...

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“The dragon told me so” by Stephi Smith

Submitted to Contest #289

The dragon lies to everyone but me. He told me so. “You’re not like the others,” he told me so. I was the only one to enter his keep and exit with air, the only to see his gold and slow the steel, and the only to breathe his fire and endure the scorch. He told me so! When I first trespassed his lair, the gold there smelled like pennies. His perfume - a rich musty odor that stayed in my lungs and hurt my chest - was consuming and hideous: everything stunk. His scales flaked and his eyes burned. His prison was dank and clammy, but ...

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“A storm named after her” by Stephi Smith

Submitted to Contest #288

From heaven, she sent lightning to a small town. From heaven, she watched her people scatter.She was angry with them. A fat, silver-haired man wailed from his porch and she laughed - her kindergarten teacher. The market woman with the kind face and dulcet voice wept as her cribs burned. Charlotte poked at shame but the moment passed. She lit a church on fire, watched the devout burn from their knees up. Don’t feel bad because she didn’t. Of course they wronged her — had you guessed already? — accused her of sin, called her a dog, fed he...

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“Giants wept alongside me” by Stephi Smith

Submitted to Contest #287

Together we mourned the fever, only months old. The ice ruined us and the bridge leading to town, to space and time, to money and food and everything we need to remain deserted and stingy. Horses tried, boots tried but everything was oily and our bones quickly exhausted, our muscles coddled after decades of mild winters. My name set up camp north of the river and across a wide and unyielding bridge, according to the state’s history books, and we’ve time and time again seen the folly of absolute resolve. The grass yellowed quick, everything g...

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Author bio

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