reedsymarketplace
Hire professionals for your project
reedsyblog
Advice, insights and news
reedsylearning
Online publishing courses
reedsylive
Free publishing webinars
reedsydiscovery
Launch your book in style
Author on Reedsy Prompts since Aug, 2020
Submitted to Contest #268
The door knocker is a small girl holding a puppy. Admire the creativity. Who would make such a door knocker? Who would purchase one? The Bird would. The Bird does everything in such a way that nobody else can believe what they’ve done when they see what it is. Door knockers. The way The Bird eats an everything bagel. The way The Bird drives a garbage truck. Each action shines a light on the action or the object The Bird is engaging with, and brings forth new insight. Knock on the door. The Bird answers. You begin your apology. The Bird close...
Submitted to Contest #267
He just got here a few minutes ago, and he’s already asleep. Ten minutes and you go from hot and heavy to snoring. It’s cute. I don’t like to think of guys who come by as cute, but he’s cute. Tells me he works at a nursing home in town. One of the ones they put in an old church after they didn’t need the church anymore. One of the ones that still has the stained glass. Look through it careful and you’ll see some woman in a wheelchair trying to remember what day it is. That’ll never be me. I’ll throw myself in the ocean first. And it’s so clo...
Submitted to Contest #266
I enjoyed Dan from Season Five the most. That was when Erica was writing most, if not all, of the episodes. Her idea of Dan was that there was a lot going on under the surface. There was always something behind the eyes. I forget how many actors had played Dan (Daniel, Danny) at this point. We were deep into the twenties by now. Nobody could ever seem to get Dan right when it came to portraying him. I understand that turmoil. I, myself, am currently on my forty-eighth actor. Before you become too confused, I should distinguish the actor from...
Submitted to Contest #265
When we get to Vinden-Franklin, we will go to the seafood restaurant near Terminal 8 and see if Sharon is working. Sharon is the best waitress at the seafood restaurant, which we can never remember the name of. We could look it up, but we don’t need to, because we know exactly where it is, and we know that Sharon works six days a week, because she’s always picking up overtime shifts, because her daughter is in her last year at Temple, and she’s helping her with tuition. Our biggest fear is not that Sharon will not be working, because Will is...
Submitted to Contest #264
Someone at the next table over is commenting on how only poor people get married during the week. I pretend to be fascinated by my stuffed chicken, but I envision my ears growing sharpened tips like a bat’s in order to catch every word. As far as I can tell, the argument for poor people getting married on a weekday (such as today, a Wednesday) is that it’s cheaper. If you’re rich, you spring for the weekend wedding. This argument is coming from a woman in a dress that looks like a tablecloth made out of the same fabric they use to make Costc...
Submitted to Contest #263
I knew it was gone when she didn’t leave the key. My talent had always been present under very specific circumstances, but I was well aware of what they were. When all the boxes were checked, so to speak, I never failed to achieve my goal. Some called it seduction, but that implied a relationship to sexuality. Nothing could be further from the truth. Yes, in the wrong hands, a power such as mine could be used to take advantage of all sorts of people, but I never used it in any such way. For me, charm was a responsibility. That didn’t mean I ...
He’d come by while the kids were at the beach. She told how comfortable she was with coming and going. Her whole life it was a series of short-term love affairs. Her first two boys were the product of a navy guy who was stationed in town for several years before being sent back to Japan. He paid off the house and pecked her on the cheek, and that was that. The boy stopped asking about him after he stopped sending birthday gifts. The twins were the result of another summer fling with a rich guy from Long Island in town for a wedding. The girl...
Dear Robert, Thank you for all you’ve done for Joey Jr. I know when renting to a young man, there’s a concern that they’ll do nothing but party and play loud music, but I was relieved to hear from you that my son is still the same quiet, introspective soul he was when he left Dearborn. Despite you being a family friend who once dated my cousin before breaking up with her when she decided to become a rodeo clown, I know it was not a given that you would be willing to rent your SoHo apartment to my child. I am still more than willing to make y...
Submitted to Contest #260
Oh, it’s such a nice house. It’s been a nice house ever since we moved in. I fought it at first, you know. I was going to be a city girl. I wasn’t going to wind up on some island never leaving unless I had to. Raising kids who turned out to be surfers or fisherman or anything else I thought an island created. I moved here, because Lee wanted to move here. He got a job at the hotel, and he thought we’d like a life by the water. Where I saw isolation, he saw liberation. Freedom from the rest of the world. Water on all sides. If there was crime...
Submitted to Contest #259
Nobody thought to clean it up. If we did, it would mean it was broken. It was. It was broken. But there’s no explaining logic to a terrified child. Not even one who’s thirty-seven years old. I was thirty-one at the time. Muddle was thirty-three. I envied her. Thirty-three is the best age in the white room. You get extra food everyday. Nobody knows why. You also get to sleep on the cot with the softest pillows. After thirty-three, nothing good ever happened. Nothing we knew about anyway. Murmur was the thirty-seven year old. The one who could...
Submitted to Contest #258
It was after nine when I arrived. He left the door open for me, but all the lights were off. A bag of the coffee I like was on the counter. The apartment used to be a boathouse, and it maintains its shape. Inside, there’s a living room with an open kitchen. That’s where the coffee waits. Two sliding doors separate the bedroom from the rest of the residence. I find the bathroom to be especially spacious considering how small the rest of the place is. Its shining gem is the window looking out on the bay. When he’s here in the summer, we never ...
Submitted to Contest #257
All I wanted was for her to tell me the truth. That’s it; nothing more. Rapunzel, Rapunzel, tell your father he’s not crazy. That, and a third of it all would be hers. My darling, Cathay. Cathy named after mother. Cathy named after her grandmother. Cathy and not Katherine, because my wife--may she rest in peace--hated the named Katherine for some reason. Maybe because her entire life people had said-- “Cathy like Katherine,” and she’d have to correct them, and she always did. My Cathy never tired of correcting people. Is that why her younges...
Submitted to Contest #256
Skipper was on his second vodka soda when Jo hopped up to the bar. “It wasn’t your fault,” she said, “They had him tried and convicted before you even showed up.” It had been a miserable day for him in court. His client was found guilty on all counts, and Skipper had to promise him they’d do better on appeal knowing full well that was unlikely if not a downright lie. It was his forty-third loss in a row. He wanted to melt like the ice in his drink. When he was a wallaby, all Skipper dreamt about was being an attorney. He’d sit in his mother’...
Submitted to Contest #255
It doesn’t blame her for thinking this is what’s best. When presented with a bad situation, you consider the aspects of the situation to try and see what about it is making it so unbearable. She decided that what was so unbearable about living in a house with two children who had just lost their father was the house itself. To her, it represented something that was no longer present. A mother, a father, and two children living in a house. The father dies. The house is the problem. This is not logic, but it is grief logic. It’s the logic that...
Submitted to Contest #254
I have played this entirely wrong. Entirely wrong, Mrs. Trent. I thought if I showed up at the Sadie Hawkins Dance without a date, it wouldn’t matter, because there’d be extra girls looking for one. You know how there are always extras? I mean, I’ve never been to a Sadie Hawkins Dance before, but I know that there are always extras of just about anything, so I figured there would be extra girls standing around in case a guy wanted to go to the dance, but nobody asked him out in time for the dance, you know? Frankly, I was shocked none of the...
Oops, you need an account for that!
Log in with your social account:
Or enter your email: