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Warren Flynn

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Apr, 2025

Stories (10)

Comments

Library

20 Followers

24 Following

10 Stories

214 karma pts

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Where Silence Screamed

Warren Flynn

Submitted to Contest #308

CW - very mild spice. The gravel crunched beneath the tires, a sound that dragged like sandpaper across glass. I gripped the door handle, knuckles white, not because I was afraid it would fly open, but because I needed something to hold onto. Something solid. The air in the car was thick with unspoken words, heavier than the summer heat pressing in from beyond the tinted windows.Mark, my husband, hummed off-key to a classic rock station, his fingers tapping a restless rhythm on the steering wheel. He'd suggested this trip. "Time to clear out...

2 likes

The Cost of Knowledge

Warren Flynn

Submitted to Contest #307

The familiar, dusty smell of old books always seemed to cling to Elara, like a second skin. It was a comforting scent, following her from the university's Special Collections library back to her tiny, book-stuffed apartment. It promised quiet discoveries, the kind that gently expanded your world, not the ones that rocked it to its core.But today, something was off. A faint, metallic tang, like old pennies left out in the rain, was mixed with the usual comforting scent. It pulled her toward the deepest, most forgotten corner of the archives, ...

3 likes

Swipe Right, Heart Left

Warren Flynn

Submitted to Contest #306

Tuesday, 7:17 PMDating App Message Denise: Hi Michelle, Thanks for matching. Hope you had a good long weekend!Tuesday, 7:25 PMDating App Message Michelle: Hey Denise! I did, thanks. Got some hiking in. How about you?Tuesday, 7:31 PMDating App Message Denise: Nice! Just chilled out, honestly. Needed the recharge. Your profile mentioned you're into photography? Any cool shots from the hike?Tuesday, 7:38 PMDating App Message Michelle: Definitely. Yeah, it's my main hobby. Got some decent mountain views, nothing too dramatic but always good to b...

11 likes

A Granola Bar

Warren Flynn

Submitted to Contest #305

Alice gripped the strap of her cross-body bag, the worn leather slick beneath her palm. Her sensible, grey shoes felt paper-thin against the cracked pavement. It rained that morning, leaving the world a weary gray. “Alright, Alice?” Officer Miller stood beside her, arms crossed. He looked like a refrigerator that had seen too much life. “Ready for the glamour of child services?”She forced a bright, useless smile.Inside, she was trembling. She’d spent the night memorizing her checklist, policy, what she was allowed to do and what she wasn’t. ...

17 likes

Subject: QUERY – The Widow's Reign (Adult Psychological Thriller, 117K).

Warren Flynn

Submitted to Contest #304

CW: Strong language, suicide, cyberbullying Arlene opened the next email. Subject, Query – Romantasy 120K words.One email down, 1117 to go.“I hope this isn’t another version of moody girl fucks a werewolf.” She said to nobody. Her assistant, Cam, looked up from his desk outside the glass wall. He raised one eyebrow like it was a well-practiced tic. "Was it?" he asked.Arlene didn’t answer. She clicked the email open. The salutation was promising—no “To Whom It May Concern,” no glittery gifs or bios written in the third person. Just a clean, d...

10 likes

Second Opinion

Warren Flynn

Submitted to Contest #303

Callan showed up at Clementine ten minutes early. He didn’t go in. Instead, he waited on the sidewalk. The evening air was humid and smelled of fresh asphalt. Experience had taught him that waiting out front—walking in together—helped settle nerves. At precisely 8:00, a taxi pulled up. Dr. Leclerc stepped out. The silk blouse and practical pants were gone, replaced by a blue-and-white jumpsuit. Silver hair, now loose, parted to one side. Makeup vivid but restrained. Silver earrings framed her face, catching what little light the evening had ...

7 likes

A Killer's Therapy Session

Warren Flynn

Submitted to Contest #303

The office smelled like cedar and something expensive—floral, but restrained. Callan sat on a low couch that felt deliberately soft. It was meant to disarm him. Across from him, she sat in a leather chair, legs crossed, a pen resting on a legal pad she hadn’t touched.Dr. Leclerc. Fifties, early sixties. It was impossible to tell. Silver hair pulled back into a clean pony. Cheekbones sharp enough to wound. She wore a bone-colored silk blouse, minimal jewelry, no wedding ring. Everything about her was composed, curated. And striking. Not in a ...

11 likes

Some Bonds Have No Words

Warren Flynn

Submitted to Contest #302

Some Bonds Have No WordsBy Warren FlynnBeckett escaped at 10:14 a.m., slipping past when Teresa, the human that cleaned up after his roommate, Callan, dropped her keys.She fumbled at the door, muttering in her other human language—the same words she used when she found hairballs under the couch. The moment it cracked open, he moved—low and fast, a whisker’s width ahead of her scuffed sneaker.She never saw him go.He trotted down the hallway without urgency. The carpet muted his steps. The scent of sharp cleaning-poison mixed with old dog-mark...

9 likes

This isn’t what I signed up for

Warren Flynn

Shortlisted for Contest #301 ⭐️

Dave knew he was in trouble the moment Melissa's car disappeared down the driveway. The silence that followed felt like the calm before a particularly vicious storm.“So,” he said, turning to face the two children who now regarded him with the collective suspicion of seasoned border agents. “What should we do today?”Blake, eleven, clutched his tablet like a shield. His eyes flicked to the windows, scanning for invisible threats, shoulders hunched in perpetual readiness. The kid had the survival instincts of a nervous rabbit and the demeanor o...

33 likes

Key Largo

Warren Flynn

Submitted to Contest #300

The man was already half in love with her before she even said his name."Danny," she drawled, letting the syllables melt like rum over ice. "You smell like driftwood and other people's mistakes."He laughed too quickly — shoulders tight, eyes flickering like they'd misread something. A laugh that begged: please, let this stay simple.She leaned in, close enough for him to catch the synthetic coconut oil in her hair — not the kind from real fruit, the kind that lingered like a dare. His eyes dropped to her neckline. Habit, not hunger.Danny was ...

13 likes