reedsymarketplace
Hire professionals for your project
reedsyblog
Advice, insights and news
reedsylearning
Online publishing courses
reedsylive
Free publishing webinars
reedsydiscovery
Launch your book in style
Author on Reedsy Prompts since May, 2021
Submitted to Contest #101
March 6th: “Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? And one of them shall not fall on the ground without your Father.” That’s what they always tell me, that’s all they have to offer me. They pat me on the shoulder and whisper those empty words like I’m supposed to then look up to the dim heavens and offer my gratitude. I’m disgusted and I’m broken. March 10th: I cried again today. I was doing what I already know to be wrong and recalling old memories. They’re such a brutal kiss, I get to taste the sweet sweet lips of love just ...
Submitted to Contest #100
Have you ever wondered what would happen if the sun decided to never return after falling to the ground? If it were to leave humanity in the darkness of solitude and take her brilliant shine to another group of lucky apes? I imagine that we’d crumble, mankind, fall apart from our very base and reduce ourselves to some decrepit creature of the night, hunting whatever misfortunate prey would find itself in the way of our solemn wrath. It’d be like that, in the blink of an eye, no change for explanation or examination. Man to beast in an instan...
Submitted to Contest #99
The children ran around to sit in front of the olden, graying man, adults lazily found seats scattered around in ear-shot corners and the whole town settled delicately beside him as he opened his fragile jaw. His eyes were foggy and appeared to almost be cracking, but the depth in them spoke of wells of true knowledge. The old man’s power was in his stories, they had power and meaning, cadence and rhythm, they danced in the imaginations of the youth and activated the cerebral workings of adults, and they always seemed to have a truth that wa...
Submitted to Contest #97
I know you all hate me, I know that I am the devil incarnate in your eyes, but I plead for you to listen to me one last time. I remember when I was a young boy, pure and clean, not like I am now, and I thought that the world would one day reach a state of utopia. A grand existence where no human would have to pay for anything at all, and we could all live in the free communion of each other's company. When I got older I fought for that dream, killed for it, was willing to die for it, but now I cannot look at myself the same. I thought th...
Submitted to Contest #95
I distinctly remember them, their tall rectangular facades were greeting me like old friends, epic and brilliant in frame. My eyes followed their folding wooden layers that flowed down their sides like long winding rivers. Where was I? Why was I here? I couldn't remember, all I knew was that I was somewhere important, doing something important. My surroundings at that time escape me, it's not that there was nothing, but moreover that it's easier to remember nothing. Maybe I was in a white room, or a grey room? I can't remember, honestly, it ...
Submitted to Contest #94
She shouldn't have done it, that much was painstakingly obvious to both her and everyone around watching. But she was born of that rare breed that saw challenge and daring as an undeniable opportunity to test their own metal. In her mind, she was a direct descendant from those brilliant explorers and pioneers who looked right into the face of danger and decided to use it as an avenue to change the world forever. It was a trait that both cursed her and defined her. "Really?" said a shaky voice from one of the small boys deep in the crowd of...
The following text was found inside of a shredded, leathery journal strewn beside a battered field from a war-torn era. Its contents catalog the detailed thoughts of a man known only as 'The Bullman,' and the general greivances that plagued what we can only assume to be his final days. *** The weather was bleak, again. The troops are currently laying camp with the same rhythmic, morose humming that seems to constantly keep their plebian minds busy. It's the decorations that I've come to call home while living in this incessant battle f...
Submitted to Contest #93
I was there, the bright lights and fantastic theatrics formed a spectacle that even the most cultured of attendees opened their jaws in awe about. Parties rarely rise above the simple indulgence of social interaction and mind-numbing additives, but this one, this one was different -- Of course until the accident happened. I remember it, it was an almost elevating experience, watching gymnasts twirl in the open air with a decorated sky filling with fireworks behind them. Every person there was of the same mind, we weren't simply at another ...
Oops, you need an account for that!
Log in with your social account:
Or enter your email:
8 likes
