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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Aug, 2020
Submitted to Contest #241
Hello? Is this 911? I’m sorry, I’ve never phoned before as we don’t have phones in Ancient Rome. A friendly time traveler handed me this device right before we imprisoned him for being an evil magician. I had no idea that if you pressed certain numbers you could talk to people. I just spent twenty minutes talking to somebody named Russell from a place called…Louisville? I have no idea who Louis is or why they named a place after him, but Russell is really having a tough time in his marriage. I suggested that he accuse his wife of being a sor...
Submitted to Contest #240
As it was beginning to shake, the lighthouse let out a slow breath. Air popped between the bricks, and the glass up top asked to let go. From within its belly, Cori played a game of checkers against herself. She put on a thick, wool sweater--and then another. The chill had gotten past her skin, and she tried to make her teeth chatter along to the song in her head. Cave senes, cavete iuvenes. Down on the sand lay two bodies. One belonging to an old man and one belonging to a young man. These two were of no relation to each other. Cori picked ...
Submitted to Contest #239
A little before one o’clock on a Sunday afternoon in 1993, it began to rain photographs in Newport. It was the last week in February, and many had been commenting that the winter had been colder than normal, but without any snow. This distinction made it difficult to complain, because while the cold was oppressive, it seemed neutered without the snow. Some said that they didn’t mind how cold it got as long as it didn’t snow. That’s why when the first photograph floated down, one of the old men sitting at the bar inside the Gaslamp Grille loo...
Submitted to Contest #238
She kept pretending to look as though she wanted to talk. Everyone around her was clearly struggling, and here she was, finding no difficulty at all in staying silent. Whenever someone around her opened their month, she could see the red light registering behind their eyes. Oh no, I mustn't speak. When Charlene opened her mouth, it was only to convey an expression. Of shock. Of surprise. Of putting together a mathematical equation. It was not to speak. It was never to speak. Charlene had not spoken around other people for a few years now. On...
Submitted to Contest #237
Maggie made sure to go to the fancy grocery store since a storm was coming. The weather had been unusually warm for a few days, and that’s how you knew you were going to get a blizzard. Everything in New England came with a cost. You paid for sun with snow the same way you paid for decent radishes with half a paycheck. She wasn’t going to be one of those people who complained about the price of this or that, but she still cringed when the final item was rung out. The cashier had a note of apology in her sixteen-year-old voice when she quot...
Submitted to Contest #236
In an untitled folderRight on the desktopI found my mother’s poetryThere was a hesitationIn choosingTo read itMy mother spent her lifeArranging photographsOn a mantleThat was never dustedShe held sentimentFor torn t-shirtsBroken VCR’sDented cans of crinkle-cut carrotsIngredients for a peach cobblerShe’d never makeEverything meant somethingExcept for those closest to herWe were unableTo carry meaningBecause we wouldn’tStop movingDespite our best effortsWe could not empty ourselves outSufficientlyAnd so placing thingsWithin usWas too complex a...
Submitted to Contest #235
I am sitting in my favorite chair. The fire is dying down, but it will not die down entirely. It has been created to stay aflame, and as it begins to extinguish, it will loop back. There are two dishes in the sink, and those two dishes will never be washed. The garbage should be taken out, but it won’t be. These imperfections are important. They help you forget that you have no reason to feel safe. Outside, a vampire hunter is patrolling my yard. I created her because, in my youth, I was a fan of a television show about a vampire hunter....
Submitted to Contest #234
For a few moments in the lobby of the Viking Hotel, Anton Perfume forgot that it was winter. While he was not a busy man in the colder months, he made it a point to vibrate a few times a week. It consisted of drinking a nice scotch at the bar of a hotel like the Viking. Something with character that remains mostly empty until the summer tourists return. As he sips his scotch, he sends a pulse throughout his body. Nobody would be able to see what he was doing, but he could feel it. Across the globe, an old woman grabs her heart. She feels as ...
Submitted to Contest #233
If I give you another one, I get grief from Barry tomorrow. Don’t ask me how Barry knows when we go one glass over. I don’t know if he has cameras in here, but I choose to believe that when you’re that miserable and that greedy, you have a sixth sense for anything that could cost you money or get you cited. I don’t feel like walking in tomorrow and getting called into that rank back office just so he can tell me that he knows I poured an extra song for somebody who was already over their limit. The problem is, you started with Tom Waits....
Submitted to Contest #232
The girl who holds the candle never showed up. Scarlet was supposed to be done at five. The manager promised her that by five o’clock, she’d be all set, because the girl who works the night shift never bails. That was three hours ago, and Scarlet’s arm is beginning to grow tired. She’s allowed to put the candle down, but only for a minute. Then, she has to pick it back up again, and somehow, after resting for a moment, it always feels heavier when she retrieves it. Short, sputtering breaths dribble out from the woman lying in bed. Scarle...
Submitted to Contest #231
I’ve decided that I’m a little too competitive.In the new year, I’d like to be less competitive. I’d also like to win more races. Not because I’m going to be competitive, because I won’t be, or, at the very least, I’ll be less competitive, but ideally, I won’t be competitive at all, and so competitiveness will have nothing to do with the fact that I will absolutely dominate every race I enter.Less cutthroat enthusiasm, more trophies.More winning.And so I am resolved.I’d like to befriend more tortoises. I currently have no tortoise friends, a...
Submitted to Contest #230
What I Need from the Supermarket A pineapple so beautiful it’ll make a man mad. Drive him bonkers. Send him right over the edge. The kind of pineapple that shows up in your life one day when you least expect it. Places itself right on your counter and dares you to carve it up for all that delectable nectar that’ll have you at church the next day asking for forgiveness. A pineapple you can make a smoothie with or an upside down cake. Your choice. But be careful. Choices have consequences. You know that all too well. Two onions. One’s for ...
Submitted to Contest #229
Christmas is ruined. Ruined, once again. Last year it was the debacle with the nutmeg wine, and this year it’s the ghosts from the future showing up to terrorize everyone with some grumpy looking gentleman in old pajamas. Didn’t I tell you as soon as we saw that specter in the window that you needed to go outside and scare her off? Now, I don’t know how one goes about scaring a ghost, that is true, but we’re trying to have a party, and who feels like making merry when there’s demons floating about? I don’t care if she was a very pretty...
Submitted to Contest #228
I swallowed a statue of Saint Jerome. My mother said I could be forgiven, because I’m only nine, but she followed that forgiveness up with the clarification that I am a very bright nine-year-old, which is why I go to a gifted school that is secular rather than parochial. She told me that even if I weren’t very bright, a nine-year-old should still know better than to go around swallowing things that don’t belong being swallowed. She asked me if there was some kind of extenuating circumstance that led to me ingesting Saint Jerome, and I told...
Submitted to Contest #227
Anne had requested a room on a lower floor. When she entered her suite to find a floor-to-ceiling window confronting her with a view of lower Manhattan, she nearly fainted on the spot. Her acrophobia had begun later in life, somewhere in her 40’s, and thirty years later she still couldn’t shake it. Carefully--and with half-closed eyes--she found the switch for the automated curtains and watched as the city disappeared behind a wall of beige. Her trips to New York were something of a reverse exit from hibernation. Whereas her friends on the...
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