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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Apr, 2024
Submitted to Contest #261
It was almost 12:30 a.m. as I pulled up to the end of the long driveway beside the staid and prestigious old house where I had grown up in the toney and uber-wealthy outskirts of Greenwich, Connecticut. Despite the late hour I wasn't surprised to see that the lights were still on inside the study. Whether he had fallen asleep in his deep leather chair with a book in his lap or if he was still awake - browsing some well-thumbed novel by Vidal or Mailer - was another question. My father’s sleep schedule was anything but on schedule lately, mai...
Submitted to Contest #260
Teacher: It is time. Are you ready to begin? Student: Yes, Master.Teacher: And are you prepared?Student: Yes, Master.Teacher: Very good. Today we will continue our lesson covering the history of the 21st century under the ancient calendar of pre-modern civilization.Student: Yes, Master. Further discussion of The Children of Madness!Teacher: That is not an accepted scholarly term. And please remove that facsimile of a smile from your face. You are here to learn. There will be time for play later.Student: Yes, Master.Teacher. Very go...
Submitted to Contest #259
The trail leading into Los Rios Ranchos was dry and dusty, it being August and not a drop of rain had fallen in over five months. The temperature was high even for this time of year and Diego’s horse, Alejandro, was moving slowly, in need of water and shade and more. Diego himself was well aware that his own body felt much the same way. He was encouraged to see the village not far up ahead and even more so when he reached the stables behind the saloon. Alejandro was well-lathered and clearly worn out by then, in need of rest. It had been a l...
Submitted to Contest #258
“Wake up, Pavel. He is here. Wake up!”The voice was little more than a raspy hiss in my left ear but I was awake immediately. I propped myself up on the bed, pulled the sheets back and swung my legs out to the cold wooden floor and sat upright. For a moment I became slightly dizzy and swayed a bit. I had eaten little over the last few days and I could see the immediate flare of concern in Viktor’s eyes as he looked at me, but I recovered quickly and took a deep breath to clear my head.“Hand me some cards, right now. You hold some too. Quickl...
Submitted to Contest #255
CW: This story contains themes of various potentially disturbing topics."I DON'T LIKE MONDAYS"After the police came to the house that night and I went through the system and the court-mandated 5150 hold and almost 30 days in the psych ward, when I was scheduled for release within 48 hours I had to meet with yet another new psychiatrist who would be responsible for making an assessment as to whether or not I was a continuing danger to myself or others. Whether or not I could go home.I was tired. I was tired of all of it. I was tired of t...
Submitted to Contest #254
The back of the SUV was loaded with all the necessary supplies; the cooler full of food, several cases of beer, camping gear and, most importantly, all the pagan costumery. The radio was turned up loud and the four 20-somethings traveling north across the Oregon border were all in high spirits.The Bacchanalia was no Coachella or Burning Man. It was not meant for the masses. It was not a commercial venture. The organizer’s didn’t even have a website or any social media accounts. The whole point was for any potential attendees to be clever and...
Submitted to Contest #253
The Golden LoopMy great grandfather, William, was a professor of Middle East history at Oxford and traveled extensively throughout that region of the world for decades, learning about the history and culture while also acquiring rare artifacts for various museums and individual collectors. In the process, he also acquired an impressive collection of his own during his travels.His son Peter moved to America upon graduating from Cambridge and took a position as a junior professor of chemistry at Georgetown. When his father died, two large wood...
Submitted to Contest #252
CW: Contains themes of substance abuse and suicidal ideation.More Gray Than BlueHe doesn’t really wake up because he never really went to sleep. He just sort of shifts back and forth on the tired old mattress in an ever-increasing state of discomfort for a few hours after he shuts out the lights until the sun is fully up and he knows that any prospect of sleep is gone. Then he rises, and he feels every bit of his 55 years in his lower back, knees and a dozen other places. He grabs a towel and heads for the shower, passing by the room where h...
CW: Contains themes of drug trafficking, violence and profanity.Ain’t No Fun When The Rabbit Got The Gun“Ay yo, Mo-Mo, maybe you should be careful what you wish for. Things is basically goin’ all right now but they can get worse real quick I think. We can prolly smooth this shit out. We should try and talk wit them, for starters at least. Shit.”He just looked at me, with something dark and dangerous swimming through the shallows behind his gray-green eyes.Sure, it would have been easy to just go along with the rest’a them but my pops raised ...
CW: This story contains themes of mental health issues, suicide and physical violence.Prosopagnosia v. Cotard's SyndromeMy new doctor - a bright and friendly guy named Sarbjit - took the time to explain his diagnosis to me. He told me my condition was mental, not physical, but it was hard to pay attention to everything he said because my left arm was numb and rotting from the inside out. I smiled and nodded and then when I got home I looked up Cotard’s Syndrome online. Here is what Wikipedia had to say on it. “Cotard's syndrome, also known a...
Submitted to Contest #251
From: James Benson (jben****@gmail.com)To: Anders Westbrook (ande****@cornell.edu)Time/Date: 5:36pm, July 18, 2024Subject: This weekendHey Andy,Just letting you know that I can’t make your BBQ this weekend. I was looking forward to having a few beers with you and the guys and maybe playing a few hands of poker once the eating is done, but I have to head to Albany in the morning.Remember my Uncle Arthur? Don’t worry, I don’t either. (Well, a little.) Anyway, he passed away a few days ago and his sister - my Aunt Bonnie out in Wisconsin - cont...
Submitted to Contest #250
“Come on in. Shut the door behind you, man. Thanks for coming by.”A bright and sunny day, the first one in a while, the glass and steel skyscrapers of downtown Chicago gleaming outside the windows of the corner office.“You see him yet?”Short pause.“Not today. If that’s what you’re asking.”Brow furrows.“You talk to him yet?”Longer pause.“What are you asking me, Ryan? I’m pretty busy just now. Last night I got home from the office around 1:30 in the morning. I’d like to make it home by midnight tonight.”Dead stare. People walking down on the s...
Submitted to Contest #249
`Brendan loved the snow. Having grown up just outside of San Diego he never saw it as a kid, never played in it, so when he moved into a small two-bedroom rental in the Boston suburbs after graduating from Northeastern University he purchased his very first snow shovel. That morning he had used it for the first time to clear his driveway and free his car from the foot and a half of snow that had fallen overnight in a surprise pre-Thanksgiving snowstorm that had closed schools and snarled traffic all over New England. Now, on his way to ...
Submitted to Contest #248
When the birds all started dying, that’s when it began. Of course we didn’t know that at the time, but looking back now it’s easy to see that was the first sign. We just didn’t know what we were looking at. What it meant. I remember getting the phone call on a Sunday morning when I was at home, sleeping in late.“Hey Jordan, have you been outside yet today? Just wondering if you are seeing what I’m seeing here. This is…pretty disturbing.”After a brief conversation I hung up the phone, put on my sneakers and went out for a jog. It was hard to ...
Submitted to Contest #247
The man with the black tattoo lettering on each side of his neck reading 24731-JAM, known to his small circle of friends simply as “Jam”, awoke at the same time that he did every day. The clock on the wall read 06:00 but that was a purely arbitrary number that simply signified when the strobing fluorescent overhead lighting and the piercing audible alarm would simultaneously activate, ending his all-too-brief daily respite from the sweat and the toil and the tedium of his waking hours.He sat up, cleared his throat slightly, took a sip of bot...
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