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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Aug, 2020
Submitted to Contest #246
We’d go out around one.Climbing through bedroom windows, we’d try to land softly on bushes and backyard lawns. Some of us went barefoot. Some hid a spare pair of sneakers under porches or tucked under tarps used for covering patio furniture. Some of us just liked being barefoot. It made us feel as though we’d have the strength that comes from mimicking the uncivilized. Some of us would play the whole game with no shoes. No shoes, no shirts. One of us liked to play the game in only his boxer shorts. He would dare anyone to mention his near na...
Submitted to Contest #245
Alexander, do you see that? Do you see the way the sun is disappearing right before our very eyes? Do you know why that’s happening, Alexander? It is because you abused yourself. When young princes abuse themselves the way you have, the Lord above sees it, and punishes them by making the sun disappear. You may have thought nobody noticed, but the Lord did, Alexander. The Lord always does. Despite being told that you are a descendant of Kings, and must treat your body with the utmost respect and care, you decided to give into temptation and t...
Submitted to Contest #244
She let him know that he needed to come home right after work. Some nights, he’d stop at the Chili’s on the side of the highway and get himself a margarita. This was something he did alone, and she knew about it. They’d joke about how much time he spends alone. Given the choice, Mark would spend his entire life alone. It seemed like a fluke that he ended up married, but Rene also enjoyed her alone time. Just not as much as her husband did. While she sat on one of the highchairs in their kitchen, she asked herself if she would have preferred ...
Submitted to Contest #243
He likes to use me on a Monday. I’ve noticed that. I’ve noticed that on Mondays, I’m in demand. I get reached for no matter where I’m placed in the cupboard. Behind the mug that came in his college graduation gift bag from his aunt. Next to the glasses he won at pub trivia. On the top shelf. It doesn’t matter. If it’s a Monday, he’s going to use me, because I’m the biggest without being ostentatious. He can hit the #10 button the Keurig and know that I can handle all of it and then some. Then, he’s off to his office. He’ll wait a few minutes...
Submitted to Contest #242
“Congratulations,” he said, “But you didn’t really win.” Lisa glanced over at the man bundled up in what looked to be two winter coats and a sweater. He was wearing thick glasses and a gray beanie. It was one o’clock in the afternoon, and they were the only two people in the gallery reserved for displaying the winners of the museum of art’s weekly amateur painting and sculpture contest. Lisa’s painting titled “Denver in January” had come in first place, and she was featured prominently with the runners up placed on the adjacent walls. It wa...
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...
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