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Violet Waters

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Nov, 2020

Stories (7)

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11 Followers

11 Following

7 Stories

131 karma pts

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Golden Days and Knights

Submitted to Contest #292

The setting sun gilded everything it touched, warm glow on the horizon bidding goodnight to the good day. Coolness began to creep in its shadow. My horse Skylar whinnied beneath me, both of us weary from a long day’s ride. My armor jostled with every step, old but freshly polished; gothic plate mail, twenty years out of style. The picture of a heroic knight in need of a quest, the only thing I lacked was a proper sword. I’d left home this morning adventuring in my father’s footsteps. He’d given me his items, a bag of provisions, and his bles...

3 likes

Blue Flight Connections

Submitted to Contest #177

TW: Grief Business chokes the air on airplanes. An obsessive need for productivity sings through the air, in the constrained irony that one can do pretty much nothing. Every person onboard is forced into a box of limited production, if one simply did not just give up and watch movies. As a lone-traveling teenager, a thought echoed through my head in the long line of people boarding. Please don’t let someone weird sit next to me. Maybe they would take up too much space, and squish me into the corner. Or perhaps their earbuds wouldn’t connec...

6 likes

The Worker Bee Song

Submitted to Contest #174

Two kinds of people make apiaries. Bee farms, honeyholes, whatever people called them they stayed the same, and their founding. Either the founder loved bees, or he loved money. My father was the first kind. As a young child in the country, he was obsessed with the creatures. On chubby hands and knees he would crawl across the grass and sit in silence, peering at a flowered bush covered in the singing bees. Clint Denvers watched them dance and sing for as long as his parents would allow, as sooner than later they would swoop him up a...

12 likes

Ugly Faces

I stared straight into the mirror, hands gripping the edge of the countertop, heart dreadfully slow against my ribs. Staring back at me was a girl, one I had long learned to hate. How many times had I stared at her, not really looking, trying to makeup and conceal her into some sort of beautified submission? Something I would be satisfied with, because it didn’t look like me? The floor was too clean and too cluttered underneath my feet. The hardwood cool beneath my bare skin, a forgotten picture laying dead on the floor, in the crack betwee...

1 like

Ring of Tradition

Submitted to Contest #69

All my life, I had been performing. For as long as I could remember, balancing on a high, thin wire that dipped with my weight. Gawking, they watched me, grown men and women and tiny children clutching each other, fearing for my safety- But I wasn’t afraid. Grace came naturally to me, in the same way physics fluxed as my mother and her siblings tossed through the air, the way my baby sister twirled long ribbons around small animals. The Circe De Tradicion never changed. Every single performance was indistinguishable, so no matter how...

9 likes

Persephone's Tea Garden

Submitted to Contest #68

It had been twenty four years since she’d last seen it, but the place looked exactly the same. A wrought iron table, graced by two swirled iron chairs. Even the kiss of the sunlight filtering through the flowering hedge was inarguably a mirror image of the one she’d seen years prior. However, most paintings tended to stay the same, no matter how many years they stayed in a museum, so that wasn’t of much notice. What made this painting exquisite, irreplaceable, was not just the level of details and brilliant paint colors; but the people....

9 likes

Of Sails and Embers

Submitted to Contest #67

I clenched my fists over the splintering wood. “Where are the rest?” The man sitting across from me cowered, shrinking into himself. “I- I don’t know! That piece is the only one I have, I swear to you-” “And you never once attempted to patch the rest of the map together and find the treasure for yourself? Or even sell other seekers a scribbled copy of this same shred? Do not lie to me. I know I am not the only one to come here seeking this piece of the map.” He went silent, subconsciously curling into himself. The low lighting...

8 likes