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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Apr, 2020
Submitted to Contest #98
He would put me to bed every night. He would read, so legato that his words sounded like a melody thrumming against my ears. He would make breakfast in the morning, sizzling fried egg on a wheat toast cut into two triangles. When I walked to school each morning my bag moving to a beat, he would smile and wave. His eyes were bright and bold, his hair was thick and lively. He only put me to bed once a week, his eyes shutting periodically and his words stiff and choppy. He would barely make breakfast, I would climb up the fridge on my knobbly...
Note: This is Nova Part II I saw him fiddling with his fingers. Staring into the mirror with doubt. His lips twitched softly and his eyes fluttered. His eyes were rimmed in dark purple, I could see that he was a workaholic. His suit was buttoned up to the neck, tight and secure. So tight that his veins seemed to bulge against the collar, trying to break free. I walked up to him, testing the waters. If he was interested, he would glance at me and glance back. If he wasn't, then he wouldn't look at all. He glanced. It wasn't full eye contact...
Submitted to Contest #95
I stare in the mirror. I don't like what looks back at me. A man with no direction. With a suitcase in his hand and cold grey eyes. An overgrown stubble. Dark purple under-eyes. My face forms into a smile, skin creasing along the corners of my mouth. It seems forced and I slowly allow my mouth to set back into it's normal position. In the mirror, I see a woman. Her hair is this blue-red like melted jolly ranchers. Her eyes are lined with thick eyeliner and her lips are bold red. She smiles. It's not beautiful. It's not pretty. It's stunning....
It was hot today. I had abandoned my sweater, walking solely in a collared t-shirt that stuck to my skin like hot glue. My hair was damp, and brushed my neck like a paint-brush of sweat. I walked slothly towards the school, bracing myself for the warmth inside. It felt as if a thermometer couldn't measure the temperature of this weather. It would be infinite. I heard a squeak behind me and turned around to see a polar opposite of myself. She was tall and blonde with big brown eyes laced with pink sparkly eye-shadow. Her skin glowed like a fl...
Submitted to Contest #81
Being popular was supposed to be fun. Guilt wrapped around my throat, I fiddled nervously with the collar of my shirt. What if the school thought this wasn't a joke? That I liked him. The doorbell was yellow and flower-shaped. My finger hovered over it for a bit, I thought about the excitement on his face when I said yes to the date. I thought about every compliment he'd ever paid me. Then I pushed it. I heard a soft chime of the doorbell. I heard a few hurried footsteps and the door opened. He was wearing a sharp white blouse that looked vi...
Feb. 14th, 1992It's Valentine's day. Today, it's our day. Matthew and I both agreed that there shouldn't be a nation-wide holiday, for expressing love, but I like Valentine's Day and I've made him like it too.The construction paper is this bright cherry red. The sides of it are lighter like a tide of water has scarred them over and over again, but this is the paper that I use every Valentine's Day. Since 3rd grade, where I proposed my love to Jonathan in the middle of the hallway, until now, Senior Year.I take out a pair of scissors and star...
Submitted to Contest #80
Zero is a boy. A 40-year old grey boy. He's tall but not that tall. Short but not that short. He's regular. Ordinary. He lives in a world where everything is regular and ordinary.It is morning. It says that on the sky screen, in bold angular letters. Zero watches as a pale grey sun freezes on the sky. Error 31. That's when the sun fails to appear."You will be working at the station today." Said Thirty-Five. His guardian. "There are some potatoes in the refrigerator. It's a special occasion, so you can have a solid today.""A solid,"...
Submitted to Contest #76
I come home late at night. The door opens with a groan. Mom is sitting on the table, her brown hair tightly held in a utilarian bun, her eyes watching the clock tick. I close the door and her blue eyes pin mine. The intense blue colour is a scolding itself. I crush the cigarette in my fist and drop my sack at the door. The lightbulb swings. I stand. She watches."1?" Her stare is vacant and her eyes are glazed like marbles.I stay silent and squeeze the cigarette harder, the ashen warmth burning on my skin."I thought 12 was late. What do you?!...
Submitted to Contest #73
In eighth grade, we used to have these egg races. Each week, Mr. Michel would give us an egg. On Friday, we would come up with a contraption that would keep the egg from breaking if it fell. Then we would sprint while holding the egg in one hand. The lesson was supposed to be on ethics. Balance. Care.I never had any of them. Every single time, the bright yolk would sink onto the blades of grass. Every time, I would bend over, under the hot Utah sun and swear under my breath. My hands would be clammy and my eyes would feel close to crying as ...
Submitted to Contest #70
The smoke makes my eyes smoggy. I cough up a ball of grey air and light the head in red flame.I hear a click and turn backwards. Her dark brown hair brushes past her eyes. Her large eyes are now the perfect size, fitting her face perfectly. She's wearing a pink barbie dress that goes just past her knees. I try to avoid eye contact, balling the cigarette in my fist."So- you must be my mommy." Her voice is so sweet and smooth like honey. It sounds happy and mocking at the same time."Of course I am." I cough. Who else could I be? For a second m...
Submitted to Contest #68
It had been 24 years since she'd last seen it but the place looked exactly the same. Mirrors cornered her, boxed her into her greatest nightmare. Eden spun around and the world turned into a kaleidoscope, fragments of crooked noses and asymmetrical jaws flew past her. As if she was spinning on a roundabout, it went faster and faster until the world turned into a sheet of brown; angles entangled together.Her head started spinning, so fast she couldn't keep control. Her mind was a canvas of black. She didn't want to open her eyes, to let the n...
Aileen walked into the bank. It was pretty simple. No mask. No gun. No threat. All she had to do was act like an eighteen year old who wanted to transit five-hundred dollars for a mall-stop. She usually twisted her hair with her fingers and used the words "like" and "umm" excessively. But today she wanted to go big with a uniform, a mask, and the whole gig.Aileen wasn't doing this for the money. It was more for the news. One day, her mom would think about her. One day, her mom would see her on the news and rush to the crime scene panicked, h...
I don't even know what the big deal about sunrise is. The sky is all red and smudged, and the clouds look like curdled milk. Disgusting curdled milk. There's also a big yellow dot in the middle. And everybody seems to make such a big deal about it."Tracy." I turn and look at him, he starts to play with his fingers."Yeah?" I nod sarcastically."I didn't mean to," he says genuinely."Didn't mean to what? Tell me that you're getting married? To some brunette in all the way Greece? That you are taking a boat in two sunsets? That your parents from ...
Submitted to Contest #65
Dear, you, I love you. The day you left me, my heart broke into a million pieces. It felt like you were an item in a claw machine. I picked you up with the claw for a few seconds and then you dropped back into the sea of teddy bears. Then another girl used the claw and won you for real. Did you really love me? You're her destiny, but I felt like you were mine. So I stayed quiet. I built a fence around myself, kept away from you. Do you remember that time, we were at Gran's Diner and 'The Power of Love' started to play? You ran to...
Submitted to Contest #64
1756 The FieldThe field stretches on for miles, short and trimmed so that the whole horizon is visible. The sun is red, a big bold circle. And underneath the rays of blood-stained light is a house. It's not ordinary. The roof is pointy, turrets reaching up into the sky. The shingles are crow black and fading into white. The chimney pots are skinny and black, they stick powerfully out of the roof's crow-black shingles. The bricks of the house are thin and stuffed together tightly, not a smudge of mortar is visible. The sky is light grey and c...
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