Z. H.

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Apr, 2020

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25 Stories

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“Winston” by Z. H.

Submitted on 07/04/2020

Winston was small with floppy legs that refused to bend and skin as orange as the rind of a tangerine. His shirts were always filled with numerous deep creases and stains of all sorts. A faded brown hat was always worn on his head to cover his hideous black octopus bangs.His toes pecked on the chair occasionally as he hummed a familiar tune. The spring buds were crawling on the polished window sill and as he Winston looked outside he felt assurance in the familiar sight. Assurance. That is all that he needed.

3 likes 3 comments 3
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“Hot Air Balloon” by Z. H.

Submitted on 07/01/2020

March 5th, 1780The Hot Air Balloon speaks to me. It sits tucked away beyond the rolling green hills in another realm. The balloon is far away on the land of green, flowers, and houses but I am stuck on the sea of rapid waves, storms, and currents. But none of it shall matter because our hearts are bound together like strawberries and whipped cream.It is not lonely though. It is only I who is lonely. The balloon meets friends every day, from kids to old men.Today, Gilbert told me that we must sail...

8 likes 4 comments 4
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“Shadow And Light” by Z. H.

Submitted on 06/28/2020

CHAPTER- ONERae laid down, his weight resting on his small bruised elbow; he flipped through a colourful comic book. The words were big and highlighted and each blurb was full of action and heroics. It was a superhero comic. Today he was reading Superman. How he wished to be like Superman- brave, courageous, and with a scintillating smile.He had been laying in his rooms for hours now, re-reading the new debut of Superman over and over. Rae's mother had entered his room many times- asking if he wanted to go on a wa...

10 likes 6 comments 6
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“Rainy Days and Lemon-Yellow Umbrellas” by Z. H.

Submitted on 06/21/2020

Dear You,The sky was grumpy. The clouds were shaggy like the grey mane of a wolf. Underneath the shaggy clouds was a glowing red button. The clouds would cry occasionally and freckle the yew trees with thick water. The tree-scented droplets would drip onto your lemon-yellow umbrella.I watched you.I watched you as you curled into a little ball, and tucked yourself under the eaves. I wanted to run to you. I wanted to hug you and comfort you and tell you that you'd be alright.

28 likes 19 comments 19
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“You Jump” by Z. H.

Submitted on 06/19/2020

You need to jump. You have to. The sea looks grey and stormy, it's splashing and screaming and yelling. But you can make out a little spot of mundane yellow sand, with a small pearly cove - where you will be safe. You slide your warm hands at the base of the window and slowly pull it up, feeling the ocean winds kissing your face.You cringe as you wipe off the green grime at the tips of your fingers.The bedroom behind you is almost begging you not to leave. You say goodbye to the faded pinstripe couch an...

32 likes 31 comments 31
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“The Walls Remembered” by Z. H.

Submitted on 06/17/2020

I threw my black pen into the oblivion of brown twigs, frazzled leaves, and colourful flower petals. So I felt a satisfying feeling spread through me. So I pledged not to write another word on the crowded white paper.I'd poured my energy into this. I'd added soul into each object and personality into each room. I'd added feeling into each window and indescribable beauty into each flowerpot.I walked up to the large empty field of grass, it was empty but full. The broken dandelions swayed in the white sun...

24 likes 18 comments 18
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“The Creator of Wonders” by Z. H.

Submitted on 06/13/2020

The golden sun flew as gracefully as a bird down onto the house, swooped down and took a fall. Splashing bright yellow light everywhere. Collin waltzed in. The walls were cracking and the place was coated in thick ivy. Dark torn curtains hung on the wall. It seemed so odd to be here again-weird even. The short walls were whispering. All those shared times he had, with his child and wife. It was so wrong to be here...

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“Why Do You Write?” by Z. H.

Submitted on 06/12/2020

“Why do you write?” She smiles at me, with her tall clipboard in hand, looking at her lined paper and then back at me in rapid intervals. Her smooth hair is dark as fudge. A  clear pink clip is pulling up her thick side bang to her ears.The room is small. With a tiny window covered in smoggy sunshine looking out to a blurred version of a long winding road crowded with colourful cars.“Uhh-for money. It’s a job to keep me living.” My head jogs, and I try to recall the time when I first wrote. The brook is ...

24 likes 10 comments 10
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“Woodgums” by Z. H.

Submitted on 06/09/2020

A fiery ball of light dazzled in the sky, it's rays running through the eerie windows and into Woodgum Factory. The sky was cloudy, filled with dark clouds pregnant with gallons of water. A single stick-like crow swept onto a rusty sign that said Woodgums Factory. The workers inside the factory worked, wood chips stuck in their hair. They carved deep brown beds and birch book side tables.In a luxurious house, still on the same lot, but just placed far far away, the owner of Woodgums lounged on his chair in front...

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“The Taste of Freedom” by Z. H.

Submitted on 06/08/2020

The moon was getting weary as it hung tiredly, it's light tangling around the branches of the peach trees. The peaches themselves were hung with shadows wrapped around their warm orange. Bright white fingers swept the valley in rays of sunlight as the music danced around the giant sized mansion. The Perry House's windows were swept with a mixture of sun and moon. Plump pink lanterns strung along with the bush which served as a fence to protect the yard. Overflowing tables of butter bread and spiced tomatoes, brisket and fat potatoes, chee...

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“Like An Equal” by Z. H.

Submitted on 06/06/2020

"Andre, come on up here! I gotta tell ya som in'!" A lady with dreadlocks tied with a big golden band yelled from the patio. "Comin' Mama!" Andre shouted. He sat crouched against white bark, looking at the reflective pond and at the hopping frogs that jumped from slick lilypad to lilypad. The aspen trees sang through the clear pink mist that shrouded him in the thick air. "Andre!" she yelled again, louder this time, "Ok, Mama. Ok!" he dropped the rocks he had collected and marched d...

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“Bee” by Z. H.

Submitted on 06/03/2020

Bee swirled in the grappling breeze like a fawn hopping through the stars. Her curls danced in the wind, forming a ribbon of fiery red. The trees were sewed into a cross-stitched blanket on top of her, giving a small glimpse of pale dusk light onto her fiery hair making the strands shimmer like rubies. A few pecan trees surrounded her, blue-breasted swallows hopped from branch to branch. Her eyes blended with the hazel brightness of the tree trunks, every aspect of her belonged. A brown shirt sat loosely on her thin arms; her pants were t...

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“Gone and Back” by Z. H.

Submitted on 06/01/2020

Her sweet embrace is like the last thing I'd ever see of her. It leaves this ghostly feeling, of a warm palm on my back as I jump into the cherry red train, and grip the handle on the side for my life. I feel my skin tingle as I leave the misty cloudy air.I'd walked into the coffee shop; gotten a latte like most people do. It was a bright day; the sun was shining with a September laziness. And then my brain just stopped going through its monotonous cycle. It was a break from reality. Her boots were worn, they were ha...

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“The Man on the Moon” by Z. H.

Submitted on 05/31/2020

The moon was wise and round, rimmed with a fiery gold crest that shined very bright against the navy sky. A little girl lay, her hair like curled gold against the grass. Her hand was outstretched, it gripping onto a wrinkly, patchy, red one, which belonged to an old man. "Where do the old moons go when a new moon comes up?" She asked, moving her head to align with her grandfather's. "Well, the old moons are cut up into stars, sugar plum." He smiled, his eyes almost the same as the stars that twinkled ...

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“The Talking Field” by Z. H.

Submitted on 05/30/2020

The field was long and grassy. It was filled with thick-stemmed dandelions and sunshine marigolds that twinkled like stars in the sky of green. The tree's leaves were defined and vividly green-they were beautiful enough to be in heaven. The little sweetpeas would twirl like distant wedding dresses. There was also a row of tall elegant trees that were always lemon yellow, they grew fine red-tinged flowers on their leaves. But the field was more glorious when the sun flooded the place, the flowers would be crested with pink light and each b...

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Author bio

Zara wakes up with a thirst for lemonade and goes to bed reading old classics. She loves when authors write whole pages of descriptions and likes to imagine flowers in every sight. Zara wants to live in a place filled with sloping hills, shiny trains, and aspen forests (filled with flowers).