Trudy Jas

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Nov, 2023

Stories (82)

82 Stories

4891 karma pts

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“Cliff Cottage” by Trudy Jas

Submitted to Contest #269

Silently dusk invades the room, claiming the corners before slithering up walls. It washes the yellows with sepia. It bruises the blues and darkens the reds into dried blood. The chest of drawers heaves one last sigh before it snuggles against the wall, leaving shiny handles as so many glimmering eyes. The fading sunlight caress the slender green bottle on the table and shows that it is half empty.Soon enough the moon, using tree branches as puppets, will create Wayang shows on the colorless walls and floors. The last sunbeam scratches ...

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“Bargain on the Orient Express” by Trudy Jas

Submitted to Contest #268

The train’s sharp whistle startled her out of a restless sleep. Though the benches were upholstered in plush velvet, being squeezed between Mr. X’s boney frame and Mrs. Y’s overflowing one, Caro was trapped. Across the narrow space were the sleeping figures of the young girl, her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Z and, near the door, a young man.Caro had tried all afternoon not to ogle him, but her eyes had a mind of their own. Using the half-light from the exit sign over the door, she stole another glance.He smiled at her. Tipping his head toward...

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“Signing off” by Trudy Jas

Submitted to Contest #268

It’s kinda ironic really. When I was a kid, my grandpa played me this record. Honestly. He had a turn table and records. He’d inherited them from his grandpa. Nobody now knows what that looks like, but I remember. I think the guys’ name who sang the song was David somebody. The song was about a major Tom, who ended up lost in space. “Floating in a tin can.” I remember that line.No, don’t worry. I won’t sing it for you, whoever you are.Throat clearingThis is Argot 3442. Approximate mission date 2231.Yesterday, the cargo ship Argot 3442 was hi...

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“Scandalous” by Trudy Jas

Submitted to Contest #267

One wintery morning in 1975, Arie Broer left his home early, as usual. A healthy seventy-year-old, he scoffed at the idea of having his morning paper delivered. “Nonsense” he’d say. “I need to have my morning walk.” In his haste to return home and make tea for his beloved wife, he slipped, hit his head and broke a leg.Forty years earlier.Cornelia, Nels to her family, Miss van Houwelingen to her students and colleagues, was a spinster. She had been quite contented as a language teacher for grades seven and eight. Nothing too taxing, she ...

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“Temporal Tempest” by Trudy Jas

Submitted to Contest #267

Nothing happens in town before 7:53am.Until then the good citizens wait, sip their second or third cup of coffee, tighten shoelaces one more time, slick down Skip’s cowlick yet again, frown at Bobby as he slurps the sugared milk from the bottom of his cereal bowl.At 7:53 Ciril Presicz, CPA and Town Treasurer, who is so accurate one could, and many do, set their watch by him, passes by the First Marrien Bank. Up until this moment, the clock, perched on the bank’s facade, has confidently announced that the current temperature is 73 degrees Fah...

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“Pencil Dust” by Trudy Jas

Submitted to Contest #266

I have been the dragon. I captured the damsel and cause her distress. My scaly green tail cleared courtyards with one powerful sweep. My hot breath has billowed up spiraling staircases. I have burned my own bridges.And then I was erased.I have been the slayer. I have braved the dragon's castle and miraculously evaded many fiery deaths. I have escaped mortal blows from its massive tail, nor have I been impaled by its fearsome claws. I have rushed headlong up those endless steps but never collected my reward. I never met the captive maiden who...

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“Story's Mission” by Trudy Jas

Submitted to Contest #266

Story’s MissionFinally, the library was one of the few places that offered any comfort in the old drafty Woodleigh Manor. The roaring fire was the main, though inadequate source of illumination in the cavernous book lined room. The light from the candelabra at Sir Percy’s elbow allowed for reading but did not reach beyond the well-worn leather club chair.Sir Percy turned the page of his book, pushed his half specs back in place and reached for the brandy snifter. Suddenly he paused in the lifting of the glass, his body at full alert. His bre...

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“Phoenix” by Trudy Jas

Submitted to Contest #265

Blindly I ran. Fuming, indignant and yes, scared, I ignored the gasps of protest behind me. Without thought I rejected the life sentence I had just been given and followed the arrows to the building's exit. Furious, I rushed through the old city covering winding narrow streets, crossing numerous bridges over stinking canals, ignored historical sites, did not pay attention to the fabulous architecture, a testament to man’s success. I sneered at the beauty of the futuristic new buildings.Instead, I railed against the unfair twists of fate and ...

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“Nuthin's pretty cool” by Trudy Jas

Submitted to Contest #265

Days ago, the young giant, too easily distracted, wandered away from his fellow giants. First, he loped after a butterfly. A pretty butterfly with many black lines and splotches of other colors. Until he got distracted by a skittish squirrel, but that little thing climbed higher up a tree than even the giant could reach. With a sigh of disappointment, the big guy moved on. He followed the spots of light that danced through the trees. Until those faded at the end of the day. That disappointment was also soon forgotten when he got a whiff of f...

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“Shadows” by Trudy Jas

Submitted to Contest #264

“Sasha!” mom hollers from the bottom of the stairs. If she doesn’t answer, mom will call for one of the boys. “SASHA!” or she won’t.Reluctantly, twelve-year-old Sasha starts to lower ‘Weird Girl’ by Myranda Marie, the book about an awkward girl who, together with her big ass dog, becomes part of a teenage werewolf pack. And discovers she has the special power of ‘seeing’. Just one more page.“SASHA! Now!”“Coming!” She runs down the stairs. Hopefully, this won’t take long so she can go back up in a second and finish the chapter. Surely Luca wi...

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“Commencement” by Trudy Jas

Submitted to Contest #264

I’m still a bit hung over and cotton-mouthed when the Uber driver stops a block or so from the auditorium and convinces me to leave the airconditioned comfort of his car. Traffic is at a standstill while hundreds of cars are creeping up the hill to snatch whatever parking spot they can find or create.With a dramatic sigh, agreeing that walking up that hill will be quicker, though less comfortable, I fall in with smiling twenty somethings. No doubt they are slowly broiling in their long black polyester gowns while holding a precariously balan...

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“The Devil's Rebuttal” by Trudy Jas

Submitted to Contest #263

Author’s note: Long, long ago (contest #238), in a land far, far away a lady was debauched by the Devil. Today Mr. Devil asks, nay demands, equal time. Who am I, a mere author, to deny him.To all my female readers, please remember he is taken. To my male readers, I am willing to share his techniques, at a price, of course.Though it pains me to be beholden to a female, even though she conceived of me, I do appreciate to have been given the chance to clear my name. I assume you have read Lady Gwendolyn’s side of our story. She’s not known to b...

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“An Affair” by Trudy Jas

Submitted to Contest #262

“I’ll have half a pound prosciutto, extra thin, please.” “I’ll have half a pound prosciutto, thin, please.” That echo comes from my right. I glance at the man next to me, he pronounced it proshute, as if he knows what he’s talking about. His skin is sun-kissed, I think that’s the term. With well-styled, dark brown curly hair, sinfully long lashes framing brown eyes, a roman nose and full lips, he reminds me of a long-ago movie star. Can’t remember who. It’s not important. Are you Italian? I ask. He shrugs eloquently. No, he answers,...

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“Summertime” by Trudy Jas

Submitted to Contest #262

“Lawd almighty.” Aunt Velma lifts the hem of her cotton housedress and lets the fan blow air under the fabric. I look away, could have done without that picture. Fishing a washcloth from the bucket with the last of the ice water, I wring it out and hand it to her, get another one to rub over my face, neck and wrists.“What’s keeping Junior?” She grumbles. “He’s taking his good ole time. Bet he’s hanging around Arnold’s, soaking up the cool air.”“I guess.” It’s too hot to talk. It’s too hot to think. I press the cold washcloth behind my k...

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“Keep Walking” by Trudy Jas

Submitted to Contest #261

If I have a neat little heart attack, right here at the bottom of the attic steps, then the kids can throw away all that junk up there. But no, I had to tell them I’d do this myself. Why? I can’t imagine that there is anything up there that they shouldn’t see.Sam and I bought this house when the boys were still little. Around forty-five years ago. It’s going to be an ordeal emptying this memorial to my marriage, our younger selves, before I bury myself among the old and discarded. I’m sure it won’t be just the mountain of dust bunnies I’ll s...

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Author bio

Being single and retired left me with no one to talk to. So, I started telling myself stories. To keep from becoming (even more) eccentric, I decided to write them down. I find I kinda like doing this, and like the good little perfectionist I am, I want to become better. So, any constructive feedback, (and praise) is always welcome.

Shortlisted 5 stories ⭐️

Contest #255

Cheers, Mom. – read story

Contest #254

Whispers – read story

Contest #245

The Light at the Edges – read story

Contest #242

The Night Watchman – read story

Contest #237

For the Last Time – read story