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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Feb, 2020
Submitted to Contest #103
The world was bathed in darkness while something stirred in the silence. Movement appeared in and out of sight, flickering like the flame of a candle. My mind was drawn to it, watching and waiting from the edge of the forest. Trees towered above me. I was surrounded, entranced by the monolithic woodland - an intimidating facade. Branches curled up towards the night, framing the sky in a web-like network. There, just beyond the tree line - a child. Barefooted, the small child wandered. His clothes were a trail of rags and his pallid skin was ...
Submitted to Contest #102
There was a man with a bird on his arm. He stared into the black thing's eyes, as deeply as if into the soul of a friend. He himself wore dark greys, his face, a shadow absent of eyes."What do you think?" I whispered into the air. A cool breeze stirred."Green maybe..." My companion replied. We watched the man from our perch on the window seat. Silent and still, caught within the suspense of waiting. My silly little friend was right, for although we never moved nor made a sound, the man tilted his head like that of a bird and stared straight ...
Feeling has no form, nor shape. It is not hidden from us, we see it in our eyes and our actions, but it is often unacknowledged and thus misunderstood. Humans tend to explain this phenomenon with stories; words with meaning, combined as wisdom. We speak of things, great and evil things, as if they teeter on the edge of our world - imagined. That is the lie we learn to love. We imbue our souls with words to speak and yet cannot say exactly what we wish. Our hearts pound for truth. And yet, it is in this illusio...
Submitted to Contest #100
In wartime, food was rare. A memory; a long since tasted wonder. Paper thin and tasteless was this ungodly concoction thrown onto the bare wooden table. We all gathered around reluctantly, staring at the evidence of our tragedy. Some, the more hungry of us, picked up spoons with shaking hands and unseeing eyes, watching as the strange substance wobbled in ways a stew should not. Red rimmed were the eyes of these tear stained faces that stared at their bowls. I had no mirror but knew mine was the same pallid shade, with remnants of dust and d...
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