Waverley Stark

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Aug, 2019

Stories (68)

68 Stories

2472 karma pts

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“The Lobster-Chef Interrogation” by Waverley Stark

#1 “Mrs. Peters, can you explain what happened?” “From the beginning, or-” “From the beginning.” “Oh dear, the beginning. Well, I was at the restaurant with all my friends. Christie, and Julie, and Stacey, and Karen, and Rachel, and Rachel’s odd daughter, and Julie’s husband, and Stacey’s cousin-” “Please, ma’am, continue. We already know who ...

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“The Parent Brain” by Waverley Stark

Ellen was gay, which was not good. She supposed she could blame her mother for birthing her that way. Or maybe she could blame God for deciding gay was a thing. Or maybe she could blame the populace of women at large because let’s face it, the world is very attractive right now.  Models in posters, thongs on hot brunettes, bright-colored tube tops and bouncing breasts lead to a very sexual combination th...

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“The Carolina Indoor Zoo of Rare and Exotic Species” by Waverley Stark

Miguel woke to gentle taps on the glass. He curled up tighter with a grunt. Not again. He was tired of those stupid people waking him up, hitting their fingers on the glass so they could see him move. Soon they’d want to watch him eat, scream at the way his body crushed a trash can into scrap. Tap tap tap. Okay I’m up, he thought, and raised his head, curving his body around to...

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“Wanda's Imminent Death” by Waverley Stark

There’s a moment when jumping becomes not an act, but a way of life; a moment when, hovering in the air, your jump becomes not a decision, but a choice that frees you from every bad thing you’ve done.  Flying. Her eyes stay closed as she falls, so she doesn’t see that she’s stopped.  The girl’s eyes open and she looks beneath her feet. She still appears to be in the act of falling-- no, flyin...

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“Jane's Red Flats” by Waverley Stark

On a cold autumn night when the rain is coming down in sheets, when the streetlamps’ glow polishes everything over with orange, and when the trees are so bare and skeletal they look like demons looming from the sidewalks, a woman appears on a street corner, so suddenly it seems as though she simply stepped from a shadow. The tip of a gentle profile peers out from under her hood. She rounded the corner and begins...

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“Summer Fling” by Waverley Stark

Summer flings start with cherry trees, And lead to cypress gold. Though my summer fling’s a pretty thing,  I don’t know how to hold it Julie watches her popsicle slowly drip down to the wood. “You’re so weird,” August says, shaking his head. “It’s fun!” She licks her fingers where the popsicle juice has run over them. “Mmm.” 

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“Summer Fling” by Waverley Stark

Summer flings start with cherry trees, And lead to cypress gold. Though my summer fling’s a pretty thing,  I don’t know how to hold it Julie watches her popsicle slowly drip down to the wood. “You’re so weird,” August says, shaking his head. “It’s fun!” She licks her fingers where the popsicle juice has run over them. “Mmm.” 

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“Saving Our Stars” by Waverley Stark

“Don’t snap at me.” “I didn’t snap.” “It’s not my fault the stupid directions were all messed up.” “Mmm-hmm.” “Just- oh, stop that!” “Stop what, dear?” “That stupid look. You’ve got that stupid look again. Get rid of it.” Mrs. Whitworth raised her eyebrows, a warning sign. “What look, dear?” “You know. You look all ‘I told you so.’ I hate that look...

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“College and Cake” by Waverley Stark

It is an extremely hot day. The town of Wodehouse, Massachusetts, is a town used to extremely hot days, but this one is hotter than usual. One can break a sweat shifting in their seat, walking to the flowerbeds, reaching for a glass of water, which in turn is sweating beads down to the cypress table. Sitting on a peeling blue-and-white porch are three stubborn old women who have sat on this porch every day for thi...

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“The Belly Button Letters” by Waverley Stark

When the letters started coming in, you assumed they were supposed to be some sort of joke. Maybe a parting breakup laugh, a little like hey, this is bizarre, want to get back together? Sometimes they were funny, they were so ridiculous. You assumed they were articles she wrote in her spare time, as a prank for you, who’d broken her heart. The first were somewhat adorable: what if Elvis was a spa...

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“Baggage Check” by Waverley Stark

When you open your eyes, you’re standing in the middle of a cloud of smoke. Voices murmur around you, and the loud clanging of metal makes your head hurt. You look around you in confusion. Where am I? Someone grabs you roughly by the upper arm and drags you through the crowd. You’re deposited in a line, behind a skinny woman with twig-like hair. “Next!” The queue of people ahead of you s...

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“The Lobster-Chef Interrogation” by Waverley Stark

“Mrs. Peters, can you explain what happened?” “From the beginning, or-” “From the beginning.” “Oh dear, the beginning. Well, I was at the restaurant with all my friends. Christie, and Julie, and Stacey, and Karen, and Rachel, and Rachel’s odd daughter, and Julie’s husband, and Stacey’s cousin-” “Please, ma’am, continue. We already know who was involved.” “Oh, are you going to interrogate them? Oh, don’t do that. Poor Christie will crack under the stress, n...

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“Sleeping Ugly” by Waverley Stark

Author's note: The disease in the story is made up and the product of a terrifying dream about Sleeping Beauty and The Walking Dead combined. Sorry, Tomoka. You're literally living my nightmare. i have a weird disease that makes me sleep for days and wakes me up in the middle of the night so everyone else is in bed. im nocturnal almost but not by choice. my brother calls me sleeping ugly cause he says im not pretty.  this is my first journal entry my psychiatrist is making me do and i gu...

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“Ride the Stars” by Waverley Stark

First it was your mother who went, who returned smelling of sea salt and a thousand other things. Your siblings pressed her, clamoring.“What did you see?” “Was it lovely?” “How far did you go?” She’d press them back, then sit on her favourite stool, fanning out her long silver hair behind her and batting away reaching hands. Then you pushed forward among the others, eager, pressing your face against her stomach. “I missed you, Mama.” “Oh, grow up,” she’d snap, pushing you away. Your  fa...

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“Imogen's Paintings” by Waverley Stark

Imogen sat by the fire and listened to the windows shake. Sounds like the frozen devil, she thought with a shiver. Come to take over the world by storm and ice. Well, you aren’t getting me, mister Devil. She glanced up above the fire to the line of portraits marching along the fireplace then over the walls, till they burst out alongside the cottage. She loved her pictures.  Robert E. Lee gazed at her stoically from above the flames, his gray beard curled like clouds. A small oil painting of a girl fee...

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Author bio

sleep-deprived student whose stories have gotten wayyyy long but who's going to try to keep posting on here :).

Shortlisted 1 story ⭐️

Contest #19
Real – read story