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Author on Reedsy Prompts since May, 2023
Submitted to Contest #326
Content Warning: This story contains references to child sexual abuse, domestic abuse and depictions of graphic violence. A vivid, raucous laughter splits the air, and the room goes cold around me. Grandpa’s telling a story–or maybe a joke–but I’m not listening. All I hear are two words.Silent treatment.The phrase coils through my head like smoke, sweet and poisonous. A joke to them. A ghost to me.I sit still in my chair. Mom covers her mouth with a paper towel, Dad rocks gently in his seat, and Uncle Fred pounds the table as laughter spill...
Submitted to Contest #324
Warning: This story contains strong language, and themes and mentions of childhood trauma, mental health, physical and sexual abuse, and self-harm and suicide. Georgia stared at the river. The water was high now, swollen from weeks of rain. She remembered it dry last summer, cracked and lifeless, when she first moved here.It was calm, unmoving, impossibly still. Rivers flow. They cannot be still. Yet here it was: a dream caught before it wakes.Everything changed that summer. Ending a relationship, relocating, a new career. She told everyone ...
Submitted to Contest #294
Words. They slip through my fingers like sand, elusive and fickle. I reach for them, but they scatter before I can shape them into meaning.I have so much to say, yet I sit in the car seat, mute. My soon-to-be ex-boyfriend grips the present I gave him before uttering my last words so tight his knuckles pale, his breath uneven. I glare at him, though I don’t know why. It’s not anger I feel. Or maybe it is.I started this. I think we should break up.The sentence had fallen from my lips as if someone else had spoken it. As if I were an observer, ...
Submitted to Contest #288
The sky is an ocean of black, looming, nimbus clouds. I’m returning home from working in the fields. A rumbling thunder shakes the earth beneath me. It isn’t an earthquake. This region experiences constant tremors due to unstable ground. I’m worried heavy rain could saturate the ground and cause a collapse. Then, the whole state will cease to exist. This desolate region of the kingdom will face oblivion.For centuries, the skies have rumbled, and still they do. Not a single drop of rain falls. Fifteen years of my life have been marked by a st...
Submitted to Contest #278
This story includes domestic violence, specifically physical abuse against a pregnant woman, and mentions of childhood trauma, depression, and suicide.“She pushed me, I’m telling you, she pushed me, and I hurt my hip. Look.” She lowered her pants to reveal the bruise on her right hip to her son.Amalia flinched at the sight of Grandma Merita’s panties. Why didn’t she just describe the bruise instead of showing it?It was a blue bruise, likely a day old, but Amalia couldn’t say for sure.“And I tripped and fell on the dresser,” Grandma Merita sa...
Submitted to Contest #272
Inky black water haunted her dreams. The water running from the faucet had a thick, slimy texture and a dark, murky appearance, as if it had been tainted by something filthy and rotten. Black water oozed from the ceilings, seeping into the walls and forming a pool on the floors. The blackness that filled her dreams shimmered in the dim candlelight that illuminated the house. She had stopped lighting candles altogether. Even when she was still alive, she rarely did it, but now she had completely quit. Yet she lit them in her dreams. The sight...
Submitted to Contest #269
Warning: This story contains themes and mentions of childhood trauma, mental health, physical abuse and sexual violence against a minor, and self-harm. “My childhood was pretty normal,” I said to Jas, echoing the same words I’ve shared with all my past girlfriends. As I lay on her lap, she gently ran her fingers through my hair, soothing me. We were engrossed in a lively conversation, occasionally glancing at the movie playing in the background, which we had already seen. “Nothing noteworthy?” she questioned.I paused, allowing myself a mome...
Submitted to Contest #259
I explore the camp for the first time. I distribute water to refugees from a large trolley. Nathan hands them soup. Seconds are permitted, as confirmed by the guards, and Nathan is generous. Tents are everywhere. I didn’t know we had so many mattresses in Commonplace for the injured and sick people. I briefly wonder if they brought their own, but it’s unlikely when fleeing a war. A voice inside my head says they could have. Children play tag fearlessly between the tents. They wear basic cotton garments. Same here. All individuals have short ...
Submitted to Contest #258
Warning: This story contains themes and mentions of mental health, substance abuse, gore, and self-harm. Sitting on the ground, he could feel the moisture of the soil seeping through his clothes, while the throbbing pain in his mouth intensified. Dark clouds loomed overhead. With great care, he dug a tiny hole in the earth, creating a final resting place for Blue. Blue was the name of his little Dwarf Gourami Blue fish, a rather unimaginative choice. For the past 3.5 years, she had been faithfully keeping him company, starting from the momen...
Submitted to Contest #246
(This story contains strong language and mentions of homophobia, sexual violence, physical violence, and abuse.)A woman in denim overalls yelled, “Just ten minutes!” Her kid of about 6 jumped at the sound of that and raced his friends to the jungle gym, their footsteps creating a lively rhythm that seemed out of place.Perhaps Jake was out of place in a seemingly ordinary world.“Can you believe we used to be that small?” Alina’s voice emerged distant.The rhythmic creaking of her swing as she moved slowly accompanied Jake’s feelings as his min...
Submitted to Contest #239
Corina rested on the floor, catching her breath, her long legs stretched before her. She reached for the laces at the back of her leg, right above her ankle. A sharp pain attacked her weak tendon. She frowned. Her doctor had insisted on resting, but Corina knew that resting meant missing dance class, and missing dance class was equivalent to giving up her dream. She brought her feet closer to her body, ignoring her leg’s warnings, and removed her pointe shoes. Her ballet classes lasted longer than usual that night, but she didn’t care for...
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