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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Apr, 2020
Submitted to Contest #47
“Do you believe in love?” he asks you. You’re sitting in the doorway of the old French theater, watching the rain pour down beyond the crumbling awning and tired posts. You’re sitting in his lap with your cheek pressed against his chest, and the roughness of his wool jacket rubs against your face. “What kind of love?” you say, even though you know what he is talking about. “Eros,” he says, “Flowers and hearts and marriage and sex and saying ‘I love you’ with your eyes.” You don’t say anything for a minute, watching the way the rain...
Submitted to Contest #45
The storyteller finally put down his pen, and closed the book, for he had at long last finished. And he sat back in his old armchair by the roaring fire with his wine and books and women, with the small leatherbound book sitting quietly on the bedside table. The storyteller closed his eyes and rested, satisfied, and when he slept he had no dreams, for all was done.*********************************************************************Summer watched the fires out of her window, wondering how long it would take for her to get used to the acrid s...
Submitted to Contest #43
Dear tiny life inside me, Hello. You are the size of a poppy seed, but you have suddenly become such a huge part of my world. It’s strange to think that yesterday you did exist to me, and yet today, thanks to two pink lines, you have become my everything. It scares me to no end to think that I am now responsible for a life, tiny though you may be. I hope that you like it in my womb, that you are comfortable, that you do not want to leave. I suppose that I should admit to you now that you were not exactly planned. I feel guilty ad...
Submitted to Contest #39
She was watching the stars again. She believed that they held secrets in them, perhaps even words spelled out across the dusky canvas of the sky, waiting for someone with the patience to read them. When the world didn’t make any sense, and she felt like no one understood her, she would go onto the roof at night and watch the stars. Sometimes she would almost believe that she could see the messages, but she could never fully understand them, which she blamed on the wine she would always be drinking during those stargazing sessions. On that ni...
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