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Sydney Bingham

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Mar, 2020

Stories (7)

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14 Followers

3 Following

7 Stories

134 karma pts

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A Billionaire's Guide to Space Travel

Submitted to Contest #105

The world spins like a top, my dad had told me. Jeff Zebos was the point, and we were the surface he scratched to keep spinning.But who could blame him? I spent my twenties on a hand-me-down sofa scratching my balls, watching my life fade into a cloud of thick, sticky smoke. The years dripped from the tip of my joint like the clocks in a Dali painting until, at the ripe age of 33, l found myself pulling on a familiar dust-colored jumpsuit under a sky of fluorescent lights, ready to greet the day with as much enthusiasm as an overstretched ru...

10 likes

In Search of a New Life

Submitted to Contest #74

The countdown started with a booming voice that flooded the shuttle’s deck.“10…” My teeth were chattering. My bones were vibrating as the engine growled beneath our feet. It was loud. Too loud. I wanted to scream, but there was nowhere for the sound to go before it dissolved into nothing - the same way that I would, like so many had before me. “9…”There were a hundred of us altogether, bound for a new chapter on a new planet. Bound to our seats by plastic handcuffs. Bound to servitude in the new world, should we arrive safely. We w...

5 likes

FutureBound

Submitted to Contest #57

I’d die in 2023 in a car accident, the letter said. The last thing I’d see is a pair of headlights crashing through my windshield, shoving me from this world to the next in a shower of blood and broken glass. Congratulations! Your application to participate in-- “Malena, did you get the mail?” Adam’s muffled voice yelled from another room after the screen door slammed shut behind me. --the FutureBound© program, beginning October 2nd, 2020, has been approved. Your post-purchase receipt is attached for your reference. You...

10 likes

Second Chances, Sponsored by Budweiser

Shortlisted for Contest #54 ⭐️

“Annnnnnd,” Tr8z, the smooth-talking announcer with the high-shine platinum pompadour let the words linger until the electricity in the room grew thick enough to make our hair stand on end. “....It looks like Dy&n has struck out again! Unlucky in love and on Second Chances.” The camera panned over and zoomed in on Dy&n, whose wrinkled leather lips shook with heartbreak. “I need to try again. Please!” She gripped the announcer’s sleeve, and her body went rigid. Her eyes bulged and she sputtered like an h-craft engine before keeling o...

22 likes

The Abduction of Margaret Rose

Submitted to Contest #36

Dear Diary, I can’t sleep. A masked man keeps tapping on my window, and he’s keeping me awake. Every time I close my eyes, he starts up again. Tap, tap, tap. The doctors told me to ignore people like him - the ones who don’t make sense. They say they’re all in my head, but I still can’t sleep. He’s wearing one of those full-faced ski masks that bank robbers wear in old movies, and all I can see are his eyes. I can’t pick out the color from here, but they’re wrinkled at the edges, and they’re staring at me through the glass. It’s a figment of...

6 likes

The Home Run

Submitted to Contest #35

“Joseph,” my mom said, irritated, like she always was these days. She shook her head and bit her tongue. “Just,” she sighed, “go play outside or something. I can’t do this with you right now.”By this, she meant my homework. My teacher, Mr. Ryan, had assigned us a family tree project. Apparently, mom didn’t know much about my dad’s side of the family. Apparently, that bothered her. It didn’t bother me. I suggested filling in the empty lines that hovered over grandpa’s head with Wazzizname and Wazzername. “Mr. Ryan wouldn’t know the difference...

7 likes

The Haircut

Shortlisted for Contest #33 ⭐️

Well . . . it’s short, I thought as I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I ran my fingers through the surviving strands while their siblings lay limp on the floor at my feet. I didn’t want to admit that I’d made a mistake, so I told myself that I’d get used to it . . . that it was time for a change, anyway . . . that even though I wasn’t a hairstylist, per se, I hadn’t fucked it up too badly, considering I was holding a pair of child-safe scissors - the kind with the rounded tips that, on the sharpness scale, sat somewhere between a butt...

8 likes