William Richards

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Apr, 2021

Stories (13)

13 Stories

359 karma pts

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“Monarch in the Garden” by William Richards

Submitted to Contest #222

Beth sat on the wooden garden bench in the sunshine. A British summer’s day. One of the few months of warmth, between the grey and dreary times.She felt lonely, she realised, despite the glorious day, despite the glorious bird chatter, despite the pleasing wafts of chrysanthemum, and despite the soothing sound of the fountain. To appease the loneliness, she fed the birds.From the bench, she scattered bird food in the grass, and watched the sparrows make reckless lunges and hop off proudly with morsels o...

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“Lady with a Lantern” by William Richards

Submitted to Contest #204

TW: death, some horror * * * The hospital was like the wild west. Diseases the bad guys taking people down. Doctors the sheriffs trying to make things right. Patients dying from lost shoot outs. And a sense of lawlessness. The fact that no one seemed to be in charge. The fact that things happened here that shouldn't happen in civilised society. People would be doing fine and ...

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“A Song of Friends and Lovers” by William Richards

Submitted to Contest #202

Our friendship was so special to me, I thought of it like a song. My favourite song. We kept it on repeat. I glance around. We're all waiting to board the flight and we all know it should have started ten minutes ago. There's no reason offered for the delay. It gives me time to read the email I wrote again. It gives me time to decide whether to send it or not. It was one of th...

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“6 p.m.” by William Richards

Submitted to Contest #198

My desk was near the front of the class. Every two weeks there were exams and your place in the room got updated. The smart kids were made to sit at the back. I think they wanted to inspire us to work harder. But it felt like being branded stupid sitting up front. The class was silent except for the occasional sniffle, someone tapping their pen, and Mrs Price walking up and down. She was o...

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“Future Gazing” by William Richards

Submitted to Contest #196

“Thank you for coming, please take a seat,” the interviewer said without looking up. I wondered how many people she’d seen today. It was a game of numbers after all. Finding the perfect candidate. You just had to look into enough futures and eventually you get a great match. I sat on the rigid white chair beside her silver desk. She looked at a tablet, shook her head, and dropped it in a...

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“Coffee, Hotto.” by William Richards

Submitted to Contest #177

It was the day after I arrived in Japan, and now the buzz of getting here had subsided, I realised I craved the buzz of a cup of coffee. There was no kettle, English tea or instant coffee in the accommodation where we were staying, an inner city apartment that I was sharing with Jack, the other sophomore here for a semester of mathematics and good food. I hustled up and down a few streets ...

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“Living and Dying” by William Richards

Submitted to Contest #176

“Let me get this straight. You want me to wait here with you, in this chair, on this porch, and not go anywhere for the next twenty-four hours, or I’m going to die?” asked Martin. Fred nodded vigorously. “Yes, that’s right. We have to try and do something different this time. Please believe me. I can’t watch you die again.” “Die again? Are you mad?” Fred took a gulp...

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“Boarder” by William Richards

Submitted to Contest #119

A sound wakes me from sleep and my eyes open, unseeing in the darkness. My stomach churns. I’m sure someone was crying? My ears strain for more, any further hint of sound that could act as a clue. But it’s quiet. Crying in itself is not that unusual around here. People cry all the time. After a bollocking from the duty teacher, it’s not unusual to cry yourself to sleep. But this whimper happened in the dead of night for no apparent reason. And it sounded like a girl’s cry. Which can’t be right. This is the boy’s floor.I ...

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“Ringgit in My Pocket” by William Richards

Submitted to Contest #98

There are no waves, but the ferry drifts in and out, its metallic ramp easing back and forth on top of the tarmac of the road that disappears into the river. It’s a gentle two-step of the river's current being countered by the ferry's engine. It’s disconcerting. They’ve laid planks of wood to drive upon so that car tyres do not spin out in patches of river water that come and go randomly. They’ve got ...

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“It's Alright” by William Richards

Submitted to Contest #96

When I saw the mouse in the guest room, I shrieked louder than I cried today. The shriek startled us both. The mouse bolted, jumped high in the air and then scurried away someplace. I don't know where, because I scurried away someplace too. It's been the worst day of my life but all I can think about is how big his ears were and how high it jumped for such a little thing. It seemed impossible. I'm pour...

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“The Sins that Betray Us” by William Richards

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #94

A fictional moment in the life of Eugène Vidocq, the criminal turned criminalist *** It was a warm Parisienne evening and fog rose from the Seine. It mingled with the smog of industry and clouded the gas street lights that dimly lit cobblestone streets. Beside the Seine, in the 4th arrondissement, was La Force Prison, within which was the man Eugène Vidocq, whose wrists w...

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“One of the Sullen” by William Richards

Submitted to Contest #93

Why do I love drawing so much? It’s a question I’ve never been able to answer. The feel of the pencil etching into the page, the gentle scratching sound of graphite clinging to paper, it's a mesmerising, mindful pursuit.I’m a realism drawer, I do sketches that are like black and white photos. It takes ages but it's pure pleasure. Lost in that world, my concerns and anxieties slip away, and the joy of creating takes over.Sometimes I just sketch, quickly, rather than trying to be too precise, to get the i...

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“The Vampire Rumour” by William Richards

Submitted to Contest #92

It’s an unholy place, the school bathroom. There are sounds and smells best described as unnatural. The fluorescent light shines moon bright and casts my skin porcelain white. I seem to blend in with the wall tiles, hand basins and cubicle doors. The water from the tap is warm and I splash my face to try and freshen up. It's been a strange few weeks. My classmates seem to be laughing at me more than usual...

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Author bio

I'm a father, a husband, a procrastinator. I'm an amateur writer trying to get better. It's humbling to rub shoulders with so many great writers on here. I'll admit it, I'm trying to get a win under my belt. I fluked out with a shortlisted story, and chasing that high again. “A professional writer is an amateur who didn’t quit.” ~ Richard Bach “There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.” ~ Maya Angelou "Strength does not come from winning. Your struggles develop your strengths. When you go through hardships and decide not to surrender, that is strength." ~ Arnold Schwarzenegger "There is no rule on how to write. Sometimes it comes easily and perfectly: sometimes it’s like drilling rock and then blasting it out with charges.” ~ Ernest Hemingway "You read to have a good time. Why else would people go on doing it?" ~ Martin Amis

Shortlisted 1 story ⭐️

Contest #94

The Sins that Betray Us – read story