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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Dec, 2023
Submitted to Contest #230
“It was never really orange. Not like they said it would be.” Grandma wasn’t a liar. She sat in her antiquated rocking chair, fingers gargoyle gripping the armrest with a gentle ferocity of an aged angel, lovely, cracked. An aging senile beauty. Soft whispered words, sharp with an unfocused meaning. No one listened to Grandma, not the way they used to anyway. Not when her youth had already kicked off its shoes, dress hoisted up at the ankles, off into the cold wilderness with rosy, hot snowflakes like freckles melting against her flush...
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