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Story Time

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Aug, 2020

Stories (243)
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243 Stories

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Search Results for an Unhappy Marriage

Submitted to Contest #186

Where did I leave my keys?Where do people usually leave keys?How often does a woman in her mid-to-late forties lose her kids?Keys not kidsHow often does a woman in her early-to-mid-to-late forties lose her keys?Is losing your keys a sign of dementia?DEMENTIA HOME REMEDY CURES NO WESTERN MEDICINEWhat is a romantic dinner you can make for your 20th wedding anniversary?What is a romantic dinner with ingredients that cost less than $60?What is a romantic dinner with ingredients that cost less than $70?What are cheap restaurants near me that have...

65 likes 49 comments 49
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Magford's Gold

Submitted to Contest #185

And lo they did come These so-called friends Of your good dragon, Magford Who never did bother a soul Now, did he? ‘A Dublin dragon!’ They all said When I first did appear Out of a November storm Wings never furling Fire through my teeth And down below The ministers and the holy people Cliffmongers to the village Of this and that Looking up at me With their bad breath And their fishy eyes exclaiming-- ‘Whomsoever heard Of a Dublin dragon?’ This was back When Dublin was a village And I could make my way As I saw fit Diving down to san...

26 likes 9 comments 9
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Goats, Arrive

Submitted to Contest #184

He threw his phone away on a Tuesday. By Thursday, he was crossing the second bridge leading into Delle Faire. The first bridge would bring you to a little island in-between the mainland and the big island. The little island was called Marco’s River even though there was no river, but there was a small town, and Scott could just have easily bought a house there and been a little closer to his old life. He could have done a lot of things that would have looked like half-stepping. He could have kept his phone. He could have left his social...

44 likes 33 comments 33
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The Tango of the Sun

Submitted to Contest #183

The light entered the room before I did. A cavernous elegance to a spot unclaimed by dream’s worst reckoning. I hear the sound of my shoes as they touch the marble beneath them. Marble flooring and shiny blue shoes. I have a tuxedo fitted for me by Venus herself. She made me promise not to stain it with burgundy wine. The lapels were soft cerulean demigod dust that she’d gathered from her favorite myths. Venus was the only entity I knew who could dance through narratives at will. She was the one who told me about the ballroom. She was t...

23 likes 11 comments 11
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Invasion

Submitted to Contest #182

The one night I set the alarm, they show up. I think there are three. Three would be a good number. There are always three burglars in the movies. The smart one, the muscle, and the one who panics and dies at the hand of the protagonist--sometimes by happy accident. I shouldn’t project. I shouldn’t start all this by projecting. I’m bound to let myself down if I do that. They might run now that the alarm has been sounded. They might flee. I would flee if I were them. No point in dealing with the hassle of an alarm. Back when I was at the top...

29 likes 17 comments 17
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The Wrong Bus Home

Submitted to Contest #181

There is nothing irrevocable about getting on the wrong bus. The next stop offers you the chance to hop on the proper bus home. You get on the right bus and you’ll only be home fifteen minutes later than usual. The chicken will be defrosted. Matt will have finished his homework. Christy will still have hers to do, because she’s on the phone with Erica. You’ll have to chide her, but not by much. She’s a good girl. They’re good kids. You’re happy that they’re good kids. The other night you were laying in bed and Richard turned to you and sai...

32 likes 22 comments 22
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Lucky

Submitted to Contest #180

Bogart was sure this was the Sherwood Crime Family. They were known for making these sorts of statements. Then again, the Sherwoods now had an honest thing going with their frozen yogurt stands, and nobody had attached a felony to them in over nine years. Ah, but old habits die hard. Bogart’s mother, Tibbity (may she rest in peace), always told him that a wronged skunk never forgets. A raccoon, maybe, because eventually they’d want to get back to their trash, but a skunk? Nah, you ticked off a skunk and you were going to smell that odor arou...

38 likes 23 comments 23
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Emeline, Resolved

Submitted to Contest #179

Resolutions for the New Year That Are Manageable and Doable and Stick-To-Able So Help Me God or May My Hair Fall OutDo not give yourself more than ten resolutions, Emeline. Last year you gave yourself eighty-seven resolutions and finished three of them, and one didn’t count. Let’s keep it to ten, shall we? That’s more than enough. If you do all ten, then next year, you can make more resolutions. Although, hopefully, you won’t have to, because you’ll have less wrong with your life. Won’t that be nice?Return all those books about bathroom reno...

35 likes 31 comments 31
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The Party's Over

Submitted to Contest #178

We just love seeing what they’re doing over in wind-up gadgets. The wind-up gadget department is killing it these days. The winding. The upping. The gadgetry. We’re amazed. We’re marveling. The rumors that we here at bathtime toys are jealous of the wind-up gadget department, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. We are honored and overjoyed to be working under the same umbrella as our wind-up gadget colleagues. We are all here working towards the same goal. We are all part of the same beautiful quilt. Our square on the quilt may be a...

34 likes 25 comments 25
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Words for Sunshine, Words for Snow

Submitted to Contest #177

The first English word my grandfather learned was “sunshine.” He was six-years-old and standing in an empty apartment with his mother. She was wearing black, because her husband had died the year before of stomach cancer. She would continue to wear black until she remarried, but that wouldn’t be for another eight years. My great-grandmother did not love her husband, but when he died, her life was upended. Marriage was meant to be your security and your comfort. Her name was Dasha, and she was from Lida, which is west of Minsk in Belarus. ...

26 likes 20 comments 20
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Whimsy and the Missing Chair

Submitted to Contest #176

The point is that I enjoyed sitting on the chair. I enjoyed it and I don’t get to enjoy many things in this life--or any of the other eight, for that matter. Nature has made me the greatest predator on the planet only to place me in a tiny body from which I can do no real harm to anyone other than a mouse. The last time we had a mouse, I wasn’t even allowed to chase it. Patricia caught it in a shoebox and then made a comment to Hudson that if he didn’t leave food lying around all over the place, we wouldn’t have an infestation. I wish I ...

28 likes 26 comments 26
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Bigfoot in the Leaves

Submitted to Contest #175

Bigfoot begged me not to say anything.“I’ll just stay right here,” he said, tugging the leaves back over himself, “You can carry on raking the rest of the yard. This never happened, ma’am. Nothing to see here.”Before Henry left, I never raked leaves. Henry took care of the yard and I took care of the house and the cars. Henry couldn’t change the oil or unclog a sink, but I wouldn’t know what to do with a lawnmower if you gave me a six-week course in cutting grass. When the leaves fell in the Fall, it was Henry’s job to go out and rake the le...

34 likes 24 comments 24
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Jelly Stick

Submitted to Contest #174

“I can’t move my right arm anymore,” she said, moving her right arm, “Do you see what I mean? It won’t move. Not an inch.” Back when they were living together, Marcy would have corrected her. In their twenties, every moment was an opportunity for explosion. Their friendship was held together by nitro and lit matches. They could fight about anything--a quality most of their rotating boyfriends loved to mention as though it were some great insight. That’s why the boys never lasted and the friendship did. Until it didn’t. “Brett doesn’t w...

38 likes 19 comments 19
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Take the Yak

Submitted to Contest #173

“I need a price check on this yak.” Nobody will respond to my call. I’m behind enemy lines. It’s every man for himself. Every man and/or sixteen-year-old young lady attempting to make some extra cash so she can buy her sixty-year-old neighbor’s broken-down Buick at some point in the near future. That’s how you wind up working the cash register the day before Christmas Eve at Felicity’s Department Store at a mall that only has three stores left in it other than the one you’re working in. A pretzel stand, a frozen yogurt emporium, and a pet ...

37 likes 11 comments 11
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Poetry for the Epilogue

Submitted to Contest #172

Bertram Fitzgerald never found out I wrote him poetry. Across the street, Bertram would work at his typewriter. He would churn out articles all about the impending war. I pictured steam coming off the keys. Puffs of smoke wafting from the “W” and the “A” and the “R” and all the other letters that make up words like “barrage” and “tyranny.” His articles always appeared in the Gazette on Wednesday’s and Friday’s. I would be the first in line at the newsstand holding out a quarter. Sometimes I would commit his words to memory. To this day, I ...

31 likes 21 comments 21
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