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Alex Twyman

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jul, 2024

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9 Stories

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Days After

Weekly Contest #349

There’s a stranger in my home. She sits across from me at the dining table, ravenously devouring the food I cooked for her. My arms remain rigid, fingers tightening around the handle of the fork and knife in my hands.The food in front of me grows cold, my eyes never leaving her sight. “Where did you say you were from again?”She doesn’t look up from her plate, inhaling her food like it’s the first real meal she has eaten in months. Which probably isn’t too far off from being true.The woman lifts her head up, leaning back against her chair, an...

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Blood knows blood

Weekly Contest #344

April 28, 1928I’ve never met my father. At least, not in a way I can remember him. He left seven years ago when I was only two years old. After the war, too many families came through the village. The fields could not feed everyone. Men gathered in the square every evening to discuss their next move. Prices rose. Work vanished. Soup grew thin. Mother would count coins at the table long after she thought I was asleep. I knew she didn't want me to worry, but it hurt me to see her this way. Father had no other choice. He made the tough decision...

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Going Up

Weekly Contest #343

I’m late. I try his cell, tucking my phone between my shoulder and cheek. I’m not even sure I’m in the right place. I hurry my pace, shoes squeaking on the linoleum floors. It begins to ring.“C’mon. C’mon.” I say, shaking out my umbrella.No answer. My nostrils flare, the air smelling like a mix between burnt coffee and fresh lemon.“Please answer the phone. Please.”His voicemail picks up. “Hey, it’s Tom. You know what to do.“Goddammit. I tap on the button to end the call, but it doesn’t work. I try again. Still nothing. It beeps.“Tom?” I huff...

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Final Broadcast

Weekly Contest #330

Entry 01 Mission Time: +23 hours since impact Personal Recorder — Manual Activation Mission Specialist — Dr. Adrian Hale The ship groaned. It made a long, dragging sound, like nails on a chalkboard. Okay. Focus. Life Support is sitting at 32%, dropping steadily. I sealed off Module C, but the breach must be deeper in the hull. Still losing pressure. No comms, no thrusters, no rotation control. The gyros are offline. We’re drifting. I’m running the numbers, but… well. There aren’t many numbers left to run. I tried the long-range transmitter t...

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Favorite Spot

Weekly Contest #327

My favorite spot is gone. The rug feels colder now, the stiff fibers pressing into my fur like tiny needles. Why hasn’t she opened the curtains yet? It’s been a long time. Where is the light? Where is the warmth? Where’s my food?Every day, she wakes up, crosses the room, and lets that big golden glow spill across the floor. So, what gives?Leaping up, my paws sink into the plush surface, my eyes scanning over the fabric laid out. A lump forms in the darkness, a gentle rise and fall motion residing at its peak.“Hello?” I call out. “Are you oka...

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Still Water

Weekly Contest #324

My sister and her friends are dead because of me. Well, technically, no one is actually dead yet. But it’s safe to say that I’m the reason we are stuck out here in the first place.All I wanted to do was to surprise her with a trip to Martha’s Vineyard with Dad’s old boat. I also managed to contact some of her long-time friends too, inviting them along for the ride. Yet, I couldn’t even get that right because only two of them showed up.Kim and Becca were the ones who replied, my least favorite of the bunch. Definitely not my first choice when...

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Borrowed Time

Weekly Contest #291

“How much time ya got left?”11:42:23Less than 12 hours until I’m dead.“Sir?”I shake my head, glancing up. “I’m sorry. What?”An older gentleman stands over me, holding onto the train car’s grip handle above. A disposable face mask covers most of his face, his cold eyes staring down at me. A teal sweater underneath accompanies his long white coat, covered in dirt and dust. He kind of looks like a doctor, but those are few and far between these days. “How much time?” He asks, his voice muffled.“Not much,” I reply.“How much?”“Less than 12 h...

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Together Again

My husband was dead.I could still see his body crumpled on the asphalt. Police sirens wailed and the ambulance arrived on scene. I flew down the stairs to the lobby floor, bursting through the front doors. But before I could see anything more. They took him away.They questioned me. But I held no answers. I held no lies.They ruled that I was innocent, and that I was free to go.There were no signs of foul play. No signs of abuse. No signs of murder.They left me there and I was relieved they were gone.Jack was dead and I was heartbroken. His fi...

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Blackwood Manor

Weekly Contest #258

I stepped into what looked like the living room of Blackwood Manor with my camera slung over my shoulder. The first thing I noticed was an old blue couch that sat in the middle, its upholstery now faded and torn. In front of the couch was a coffee table, coated in layers of dust along its surface. To the right of the couch was a red armchair with sagging cushions and impressions still left behind. In the back corner, stood a grandfather clock with its arms and pendulum frozen in time.I ran my finger along the table, leaving behind a clean tr...

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