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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jul, 2020
Submitted to Contest #52
It’s June, someday just after the twentieth. I find myself leaning against the walls of the smallest closet in my home. Resting in here for hours, my head is numb and my neck is stiff. Tapping the edge of my foot against the door; I listen to the hinges whine. A bit of tungsten-lamplight peeks inward, invading the sacred darkness of the closet. I stop tapping, just before the door would give-way to a view of the window. I don’t want to look out of the window. I’ve no need to see the specks of light, projecting views of ancient and dea...
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