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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jun, 2023
Submitted to Contest #280
TW: It's a story about a school shooting.Corey broods in his room alone after his only two friends unfriended him on social media, completely severing ties with him.“He’s such a dork. I don’t know why I hang out with him,” he heard his friend Patrick tell his other friend Zac when they thought Corey wasn’t listening.“Me neither. He makes it hard to meet girls. He’s such a loser,” Zac responded.People don’t realize that Corey hears everything. Now their voices echo through his head, talking over each other, insult after insult.“He’s stupid,” ...
Submitted to Contest #279
Meant for the prompt, Write a story about someone confronting their worst nightmare.My name is Danielle Picotte. I have arachnophobia. I realize my fear is irrational. I can’t help it. I see a spider and I panic. I shake, I cry, I can’t breathe. I get anxious at the sight of a web. The thought that one could be lurking nearby possesses my mind. I can’t concentrate on anything else. It can interfere with daily and leisurely activities. I’m a teacher who couldn’t teach her class one day because a student said they saw a spider in my classroom....
Submitted to Contest #277
Allen Moore takes a seat on the couch. He’s wearing the #1 dad t-shirt his kids gave to him six years ago. It has shrunk and he has grown around the middle. He wears it with the worn-out pair of black & blue plaid pajama bottoms his wife has always threatened to throw away. She never did because she knew they were his favorite. An off-white terrycloth robe and moccasin slippers top off the ensemble that compliments his unkempt hair and a week’s worth of stubble. He pours bourbon into a tumbler piled to the top with ice. He stares at the ...
Submitted to Contest #274
Childhood memories of walking home from school on Halloween Day; cool breezes under overcast skies, the scratching of dried leaves on the pavement as the wind pushed them by. They crunched under my feet and made a swoosh, swoosh sound as I walked through them. When I got home, I raked them up into mounds and cannonballed into them with a splash like crunchy water. My old labrador retriever with his grey face would find the energy to join in the fun, pouncing on top of me with a vivaciously wagging tail.The neighborhood was always decorated f...
Submitted to Contest #270
TW - Sex, Drugs, Violence, Suicide Amy Wells bounces as she’s plopped onto the bed. The motion causes the alcohol in her stomach to slosh and rise to the back of her throat. She’s dizzy and disoriented, not sure of where she is or how she got there. She never partied much in high school but decided to cut loose after being convinced by her roommate, Holly, that college was the time to do so. The Alpha Phi Kappa fraternity was hosting a party to kick off the school year, and where better to socialize and make some new friends. Amy was flatter...
Submitted to Contest #253
Morels. If you know, you know. Those delectable little mushrooms call out to my wife Laura and I every spring from southern facing forest slopes and damp creek beds after hard rains when it is cool both day and night. The day’s high was sixty-nine degrees after a thunderstorm blew through while the previous night only dropped as low as fifty-seven, making it an ideal day for shroom hunting. Waking early, we fixed ourselves a huge breakfast consisting of French toast and sausage links with some fresh fruit and, of course, piping hot coffee. E...
Submitted to Contest #244
Feeling nostalgic, Melissa decided to go through the old shoe box of pictures from when she was a teen that was sitting in the top of her closet. It had been years, decades, since she opened that box. It’s an old Eastland’s shoe box, wrapped in purple construction paper and bejeweled with fake gems and glitter – very nineties.She popped open the lid and sitting on top was a ticket stub to the movie ‘Titanic’ that her and her friends went to see six times at the theater. She laughed at the memory of them crying their eyes out in the theater a...
Submitted to Contest #216
This story contains sexual and physical violence. My name is Annabelle Jennings. Seventy years ago, I witnessed the atrocity that began on May 1, 1866, on the south side of Memphis, Tennessee. Momma, Daddy, and I lived in a small two room house with a little front porch. Back then we all lived in little homes like that. We had our own schools and churches in the area, separate from the white folks. Everybody in the neighborhood gathered round their porches sharing good times and good food while us kids ran amuck. There was a lot of talk at...
Submitted to Contest #212
Dear Santa, It’s that time of year, filled with holiday cheer. It’s white and cold, everything is trimmed with gold. Jingle bells ring and carolers sing. The world is lit up, sparkles, and shines. Passerby’s share holiday greetings with open minds. Families gather for traditions that matter. Today I woke to winter’s chill, which decided to take up residency on my hardwood floors. I threw on my slippers, adjusted the heat, and I cooked myself a big breakfast. Normally I don’t do that, usually just some toaster waffles and coffee. But today, t...
Submitted to Contest #210
The sun rises over The Big Apple. Light reflects off the glass buildings in blinding radiance to every corner of the city, shadows cowering in the nooks and crannies of urban living where most people dare not tread. The city that never sleeps is rejuvenated as heels hit the pavement in fulfilment of their morning routines as they prepare themselves for another day of the repetitious grind. Newsstands and coffee carts open for business as men and women hail taxis for destinations all over the metropolitan area. Cars begin to honk, and people ...
Submitted to Contest #208
On the brink of adolescence, I made the decision to part ways with the things that represented my childhood. Not because I wanted to, but frankly it was because I did not want to be teased and ridiculed. I was a collector. By collector I mean hoarder of all things childish – toys, books, music. I believed that all toys, even my pillows and blankets, had emotions. To discard them, give them away, or not play with them would hurt their feelings. But the day came to put aside childish things and thoughts and continue along the path to adulthood...
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