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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jul, 2021
Weekly Contest #104
There was this aura about him. Cocky. It showed in the way he waved me over to his side as I stepped into the fancy restaurant. I hadn't had any trouble locating it, situated right where it was, at the end of Jackson Street, surrounded by honeysuckles in bloom. Everything about the interior was cream and intimidating. The tiles. The walls. The table tops. The chairs. Even the air smelled fresh, like milk. "Have your seat, please" he said, and surprisingly, I wasn't shocked that he didn't get up to pull out a chair like those gentle...
Weekly Contest #103
The last box in the room was the old noodles carton, eaten up by mites and whatnot. She sighed and shuffled across the room. Squatting in front of the box, her knees gave a loud crack. She sighed. Picked the box up. Walked back to the table. Dropped it. Musty dust rose to her face. She coughed and swiped at it. Useless. She kept coughing. The books in there. Too old. Decades old. A Selection of African Poetry. West African Verse. Chinua Achebe's 'Anthills of the Savannah'. Hammer on the Cock, with the author's name neatly eaten o...
Weekly Contest #100
I took a forkful of noodles and pushed it down with a glass of water, gulping it all at once. Father didn't raise his eyes from the newspaper, which he held over his plate of noodles. Mum with her patient, suffering eyes, looked over at me and asked if I was okay. I nodded slowly. None of us had any appetite for the food. Sister Grace had offered to cook, and I was disappointed, so disappointed, that after all the years and fortune Father spent on her while she was in catering school, she still couldn't cook noodles properly. Or maybe she co...
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