V. S. Rose

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Dec, 2022

Stories (12)

12 Stories

665 karma pts

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“Birthday Ghost” by V. S. Rose

In my country, the heroes aren’t like the American ones. All the heroes in American movies have big muscles, puffy hair, and teeth like those Colgate commercials. Maybe that’s what you need to get the girl in the end. If that’s what a hero looks like, I’m out of luck. It’s hard when you look like me. If I couldn’t be a hero, maybe I could be a sidekick. A sidekick would be easy. You don’t have to fight as many bad guys or train so hard. Sure, you don’t get the girl in the end, but I’m OK with that. Girls are icky. W...

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“Pruning Synapses” by V. S. Rose

I’ve never sat in a place so devoid of color. The waiting room walls are wax white, the linoleum floor unblemished. My tongue tingles with the lemon-scented cleaning product that lingers in the air. A semicircle of unoccupied leather back chairs face a reception desk fronting the room. The desk is an imposing block of gloss, the fluorescent lights from the ceiling reflecting in its sheen surface.The space is mouse quiet, aside from the incessant patter of fingers on a keyboard. A deadpan receptionist sits behind the desk...

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“Muggle Magic” by V. S. Rose

After a taxing two-day drive from Toronto, Tiffany and I arrived at Hogwarts. To our left, a magnificent castle dominated the blue Orlando sky. Thin clouds floated like wisps of cotton candy above the castle’s towering spires. On our right, the village of Hogsmeade buzzed with activity; a frenzy of tourists milled from shop to shop. Straight ahead, across the wooden bridge we stood atop, the entrance to The Wizarding World of Harry Potter beckoned us forward with spellbinding fingers.As incredible as the park was, I didn...

38 comments 38 SHORTLIST ⭐️
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“Mom, Dad, and the Devil” by V. S. Rose

CW: mental health, mentions of suicide, physical violence, goreIt’s a short walk to my car from St. John’s Mental Health Clinic. At the end of my shift, I take the same route every night down Renforth Street. The distressed bulbs in the street lights cast a dim glow over the hopeful drunk homeless, their hands outstretched like kids on Halloween vying for their nightly sugar rush.I always give them whatever loose coins I have. Sometimes it’s a few dimes, a couple of quarters, a dollar. You neve...

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“Bridge Bargain” by V. S. Rose

Agor unfurled the crinkled yellow parchment and grinned at the deed in his hands. For a troll, securing the most trafficked bridge in Rhodinia was a life’s ambition. It had cost him, but even the depleted coin purse tucked into his loincloth couldn’t have dampened his spirits today. For the first time, Agor gazed upon Krakow Bridge. Stretching across the rumbling Tibeth River, the bridge was comprised of four arches, divided by three piers of interlocking stone. The parapets were the tallest he had ever seen, perfec...

30 comments 30 SHORTLIST ⭐️
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“Involuntary Recipient” by V. S. Rose

Drip. Drip. Drip.I don’t know how long it’s been. My hankering for water and parched lips suggest more than a few hours. The screams from my ravenous stomach say longer than a couple of days. Weeks maybe? Would I have survived weeks?Drip. Drip.What’s that dripping sound?My head feels like it was squeezed in a table clamp. I can’t tell if my thinking’s foggy from my throbbing head or the lack of food and water. This pitch darkness sure doesn’t help. G...

37 comments 37 SHORTLIST ⭐️
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“Don” by V. S. Rose

Session 1I walked into Don’s quaint Victorian bungalow on that first day and immediately felt my skin crawl.The man staring back at me from across the room was a horrid nightmare. His eyes were two stones of obsidian, penetrating and full of malice. A flaccid black mohawk splayed across his head in a mass of hysteria. His face was skeletal and sallow, cheekbones high and prominent. Twisting tattoos crawled from head to toe; assorted piercings studding his nose, lips, and eyebro...

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“Critical Message” by V. S. Rose

Breath in. Breath out.Please pay attention. What I am about to tell you is of paramount importance.I don’t have much time before she figures it out. I know what I am about to say may be confusing, but if you listen carefully, you will make the right decision.A patter of footsteps on tile down a hallway. The world won’t be what you think it will be in the future.You see, I’m...

42 comments 42 SHORTLIST ⭐️
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“The Collector” by V. S. Rose

The air was unrelentingly frigid, yet he did not feel its cold. His hands were blood-covered, chafed, and worn. A frozen bloodied body, skull cracked, laid on the white snow beneath him, slowly turning it a deep crimson. The heat, still radiating from the body, melted the surrounding snow like warm butter. The corners of his mouth spread into a satisfied grin; it was his fifth kill today. He reached across his body and pulled a serrated knife from its sheath on his hip. The blade glistened in the starlight, blo...

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“Cakes and Coins” by V. S. Rose

I can hit heads on a coin flip nine times out of ten. It’s kind of like how some of the best basketball players can hit a free throw at 90% accuracy.Today, at the South Coast Coin Flippers Tourney, I can hear the soft thump of metallic coins landing on mats all around me. The bright lights of the arena shine down on all of the players, deep in concentration, sweat dripping from their brows, focused on making that next flip.I’ve been hitting 67%. It’s god-awful and downright embarrassing as a pr...

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“A Midnight Silence” by V. S. Rose

The home was dimly lit. Lamp shades spilled a muted light over a navy and white oriental rug in the living room. A television screen flickered a faint glow into the darkness.A woman sat on a shabby couch. Her summery auburn hair hung like a flowing river across her shoulders. Deep blue eyes flecked with emerald were fixed on the screen ahead. A countdown timer sat in the corner; 11:52 PM it read. In a purple bowler hat and a green tie, an aged gentleman — with a jesting crowd behind him — filled the screen. A la...

34 comments 34 SHORTLIST ⭐️
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“Twenty Years to Ten” by V. S. Rose

I like this boy. He seems like he cares. Once a week he comes to my room and talks to me about his life. He plans to be a personal support worker. I think he would make a good one. After I was diagnosed with this disease I had visitors for a while. My wife, kids, relatives, and old friends. My company now includes a runny meal a few times a day, a bitter instant coffee in the mornings, and the occasional seagull perched on my windowsill.The boy’s name is Ethan. He’s a good kid, a volunteer at the l...

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Author bio

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Shortlisted 5 stories ⭐️

Contest #190
Muggle Magic – read story
Contest #188
Bridge Bargain – read story
Contest #187
Involuntary Recipient – read story
Contest #182
Critical Message – read story
Contest #179
A Midnight Silence – read story