reedsymarketplace
Assemble a team of professionals
reedsystudio
The writing app for authors
reedsylearning
Writing courses, events and memberships
reedsydiscovery
Get your book reviewed
reedsyprompts
Weekly writing prompts and contests
Writing courses, events and conferences
Upcoming events
5 Ways to Write More Creative Sex
November 09, 2026
People on the Page: Crafting Characters Readers Care About
November 10, 2026
Write Stunning Sentences
November 12, 2026
The Art of Trope Marketing
November 16, 2026
Learn how to succeed as a writer from the best in the business.
Every writer needs a Studio
Check out our writing app for authors!
Menu
More apps built by Reedsy
Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jun, 2025
Weekly Contest #376
Therapy days are my favorite. I get to spend a whole hour talking about myself to a captive listening ear. I have been feeling particularly down lately, unsettled and guilty, and my sessions always seem to lift my mood. I do my stretches, leave Margot with the babysitter, and start my walk to Willa’s office. It’s a wonderful stroll, the moon is full and the stars are bright. The neighbors are out and about in their gardens or off to their various activities. I say cordial hello’s. As lovely as it is, I am glad to arrive at therapy, my bones ...
Weekly Contest #357
My animals come and go, up and down and in and out. I find myself becoming fond of most of them. I live downstairs, but the whole house is mine, and my upstairs pets enjoy quality time with me when I am generous enough to give it. That is, most of them. And that’s fine. After all, I do have my favorites. Puff and String are my current pets upstairs. I named them after some of my most prized possessions, lucky them. When they first arrived some time ago, heavily burdened with boxes and bags, I met them at the doorway. They greeted me cordiall...
Weekly Contest #348
MORE THAN ENOUGH It is so alarming how fast her little heart beats. My ultrasound technician assures me it is normal, Thank God. Just one more day and she’ll be in my arms. Lou’s already stronger than I am. I hope she looks like me. I rest my hands over my belly on the way out. The technician wiped off most of the excess gloop, but my shirt still sticks to my belly. Nobody is with me to open my car door. I ease myself behind the wheel and take a glance at the empty carseat in my rearview mirror. It is awaiting her as eagerly as I am. I don’t...
Weekly Contest #327
Mom used to pick me up from school with a string cheese and juice box for my snack. She would ask me about my day, her eyes watching me in her little driving mirror, calling me her Little Bug. But she was busier than before. Busy is a grown-up word for when you don’t smile anymore. And, I got old enough. When you’re nine years old you don’t need to be picked up from school anymore. That’s what I heard mom tell dad one day while they were having a fight. So I walk home from school, but I don’t like to get there too fast. I make my feet go slo...
Weekly Contest #320
I woke to a canopy of trees and twinkling leaves and the memories I held most dear. I wished they could’ve been real. I shivered in the cool morning air, wearing only my Giselle costume, light and airy with the long flowing skirt, point shoes laced perfectly up my legs. The night before, I had twirled on stage, the Prima Ballerina in a production of Giselle. How I loved to be her and float like a ghost across the stage, weightlessly lifted by my partner, spinning balanced on the tips of my toes. I woke to that all crumbled away, as if ripped...
Weekly Contest #319
Sadie was only seven when we crashed. I always made sure she sat in the “magic seat,” the one right behind the mine. Statistically, the safest place to be, for all the good it did. One moment, Sadie was telling me about the spelling bee coming up. The light turned green and I put my foot to the gas. She sipped her juicebox. “Daddie? You know what word is so hard to spell? Tuberculosis.” And then, the crunch, the broken glass, the impact. Not even a scream from the back, for she had already hit her head. There was a ripping feeling, something...
Weekly Contest #309
My new roommate arrived promptly at eight in the morning. I had thrived in the apartment all by myself for the past two months. I didn't have to use headphones when watching Gilmore Girls on my phone, and I could sleep in my underwear. I could leave the window open at night to feel the breeze. My old roommate Becca didn’t tolerate that. But rent was astronomically high and I was ready to share it. When the knock came, I shovelled the rest of my eggs and avocado into my mouth and offered to help her unload. She was older than I expected with ...
Weekly Contest #308
Contains mentions of death and grief. “Where are we going now, George?” Riley asked. He sat in his booster seat in Uncle George’s old blue pickup on a blistering summer day. George looked at him through the rear view mirror. Riley held the new dinosaur toy he had begged for at the corner store, the tag still attached. He had a purple stain around his mouth from a huckleberry ice cream cone from the diner. George reached his right hand down as if to hold Ava’s hand even though it had been years. He sighed. “We have to make two more stops, Pa...
Oops, you need an account for that!
Log in with your social account:
Or enter your email:
19 likes
