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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jun, 2020
Reese was thankful to the human who had spilt their tea in front of his burrow in the wall, and took it as a good omen while approaching it with twitching whiskers. He’d lived in the wall since he was a young mouse, but had only recently noticed the little surprises that peppered his days. The tea pond of today, the sugary snack stuck cleverly to a paper napkin yesterday, the cracked door of a few days past allowing easy access to the Outside, all hinted towards something more intentional. An idea had crept up along his thinly furred ea...
Submitted to Contest #105
Yara sat in the cramped emergency pod, her muzzle twitching in the stale air. What an adventure, she thought. Her claws scratched at the metal as she stood on her two feet, her tail swinging out to balance herself. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed since she’d stowed away on the visiting ship, only that she was probably miles and miles away from home. “You don’t belong here,” a feminine voice said from nowhere. Yara looked up at the ceiling and around the curved structure of the pod, finding a small speaker built into the wall. ...
Submitted to Contest #103
Author's note: These characters and events take place in a larger story. I've done my best to include relevant backstory while making it it's own individual story.Fifteen-year-old Lázaro was warm and safe in Benito’s arms, his body sturdy and solid against Lázaro’s slender ribcage. “I won’t ever leave you,” Benito promised. Lázaro felt Benito deflate, and he opened his eyes. He was at the Paterson Public Library, sat on a dated grey couch. Benito crouched across the room to look at the biographies. Eighteen-year-old Lázaro pushed himself up,...
Submitted to Contest #102
Kremmy reached out, the setting sun making the red rock a richer shade. The grainy texture smoothed the pad of their finger as they counted the layers in the cliffside, imagining the thousands of years of sedimentation it took to build the towering structure. Loose rocks tumbling to the side caught their attention, and they spotted a deer with thick antlers. It stood still and sure, its black eyes staring into their own. Kremmy let their hand fall from the rock. “Hey, buddy. Never seen one of you up close before.” They had just moved to U...
Submitted to Contest #98
He was scared out of his mind. He’d been smugly thinking how it’d been clever for him to delay maturation, to keep looking female, to sneak around and catch more flies. There would be time for mating, next year. Now the flat-backed lizard was hurling down the side of a boulder, into a rushing river, about to die. It was a long fall. After the initial terror, he began to think. Maybe he could propel himself with his tail enough to claw onto the side of the boulder. Maybe there was a weed or a twig angling out of the rock’s cracks that he co...
Submitted to Contest #96
Wayra had heard of the stranger long before he saw them, knew how their dark woolen cloak skated over the fresh snow and left the earth glistening; how, when pressed with a bowl of potato stew they consumed the contents without bringing the bowl to their lips. For once in his short life, Wayra was faced with something he’d never encountered: a mystery. The corn picked off their stalks, his days were now filled with chopping timber and collecting kindling for the anticipated winter, so it wasn’t until dusk when he finally saw the stranger....
Shortlisted for Contest #92 ⭐️
TW: abuse Evita lied awake in the corner of the room her family shared, the moonlight casting a white glow that she manipulated with her hand’s shadow. The howling of coyotes was long gone, but they still echoed in her brain as she shaped her fingers into a snout, its mouth open. The shadow was dear to her, protected her not only from the Sonoran Sun during the day, but cloaked her from danger at night. She knew this land and the darkness it cast in its folds better than anybody else in her family, and in return was respected by the shadow. ...
Submitted to Contest #84
Today is yesterday. Or is it tomorrow? If tomorrow’s today, then when was yesterday? The day before? I feel like I walk in circles just to end up at the beginning. Beginning of what, I couldn’t tell you.Wait a minute. Who are you? You, the one slouched over, staring? Do you know what day it is? Ah, you’re a quiet one, just like the stars. That’s ok. You can stay and listen.I live in a tin trailer perched on the pocket of space between the past and the present. Or the present and the future. But not the past and the future. That’s where ...
Submitted to Contest #77
Bad luck was sort of Reg’s thing. He didn’t think Jess understood the scope of it, although she’d probably heard his friends joking around. You must’ve really screwed up in a past life, they’d say. Maybe you were a serial killer, or a terrorist. An unholy Pope, or a corrupt politician. Still, he wasn’t sure how prepared she was to spend a weekend with him out in a cabin. Something bad was going to happen. Many bad things would happen. It was fact. For all she had planned, he would be surprised if they got through half the list. Jess had t...
Submitted to Contest #76
11/04/20 If there ever were evidence of gods worming their way through the mortal world, he would be a compelling corroboration. Gold hair, wavy and long, tucked into a bun at the nape of his neck. I wanted to reach over, past the student sitting between us, and hold it in the palm of my hand. How long did it take you to grow? I imagined myself saying. Did you know that when I look at you everything and nothing rests at the tip of my tongue? Instead I sat in my seat, my fingers interlaced on my lap, and listened to him introduce himself. ...
Submitted to Contest #74
If the brick wall could say anything to the being that insisted on scratching marks into its length, it would note that the being was hindering the wall’s capability to do what it did best: stand in one place. It would comment that although the marks’ effects were almost inconsequential to the wall’s constitution, that the scratches provided several, nay, three hundred and twenty seven malicious opportunities for decay, which was potentially a serious threat to the wall’s primary function. But it was a wall, so it weathered the marks like...
Submitted to Contest #72
I thought going directly to the HOO, Christen Goldwater, would be a rewarding experience. He would congratulate me on a job well done, perhaps bestow some public accolades that would mark the beginning of our partnership fighting the extraterrestrial virus plaguing our planet. But I had misread the situation. Again. You’re probably confused. Let me start from the beginning. When I was born, I cried. Which isn’t unusual for an infant freshly pushed out of the womb. As they wiped the blood from my skin, I’m told they injected me, as they...
Submitted to Contest #71
Martín bounced on the balls of his vans-clad feet, watching the precarious way his younger primo balanced the glass platter of chocolate chip cookies on top of his head. As the small boy rounded the corner into the kitchen, Martín imagined him tripping over his own shoelaces, or knocking his shoulder into the wall. The platter would shatter outwards, and hours of baking the mysteriously misshapen cookies would be for nothing. He started walking forwards, was about to snatch the platter from out of his grip when somebody grabbed his shoulder ...
Submitted to Contest #70
To say they’d messed up would be a generous understatement. Rather, it had become the conglomerate of mistakes akin to the wretched mass at the bottom of a port-a- potty. Even though it was easy to glance over, its presence was undeniable and, on a clear look, made the bile inch closer to the uvula than one was really comfortable with. Eli wished that a nasty sewage view was all he had to deal with. He didn’t know how their situation got so bad, but he blamed his younger brother Marco for the singed and poorly barbered western terrier in ...
Submitted to Contest #54
Good evening to all the parents, half-asleep elderly, and introverted teens. Thanks for tuning into your favorite show, Second Chances! I’m your host Diego Frontera and boy do we have a good one up for you tonight. First up we have Miss Daisy Reginald, looking very spiffy in her retirement home-provided night gown, if I do say so myself. Let’s see the horrible, horrible occurrence that passed in aisle three of Shopmart last Wednesday. Three. Two. One. Action! There we see her, standing up- oh! That gave me a fright. You thought she was ...
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