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Carol Stewart

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Apr, 2024

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47 Stories

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The Spirits Inside The Walls

Weekly Contest #283

Like the spirit, it rises: the flesh and breath of bricks and mortar. You smell it when it rains, when the room is lit up yellow and the world outside is grey but full of bright umbrellas. Or when it lingers autumnal like logs in dampened woods speckled gold upon troweled earth. Likewise in spring when the grass is freshly mown, April-showered, refreshed. But on days like today, you smell it too. And mild as it was before the sky darkened over this Christmas, it hits you pure, crisp and clear as the season itself. You step from your old chil...

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Before The Clock Strikes Thirteen

Weekly Contest #282

***CW: Mental health issues, attempted suicide, hints of childhood abuse... The final (5th) part of my Talk of The Devil series. Again, also a standalone piece written solely in dialogue*** Sue… Sue… It’s me, Moll… Remember…? Go away. Oh, don’t be like that. I’m your friend. I just want to talk to you. Friend without the ‘r’. ‘I’ before evil… A fiend? Is that how you see me? Red devil… Horns and pitchfork… Tail… And that’s the story. Non-fiction... Your children knew, they drew the picture… That was a long time ago, Sue… Not so long… So lon...

16 likes 6 comments 6
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What Constitutes a Christmas Trifle

Weekly Contest #281

*** A continuation of the Talk of the Devil series. Like the others, it can also be read as a standalone piece *** Come on, stop it now, Sue and sit down. You’re doing yourself no favours, all frazzle and fluster… Frazzle and fluster? Oh, frazzle and fluster alright… Frazzle and fluster like a cartoon caper, Frazzle and Fluster and Stuff It Up Sue Strikes Again… Sue, please… I said I’ll help you clean up in a bit, once all the kids are away. Alright, Helen, I hear you, but would you just take a look at this… This pigsty… Three mince pies on...

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Wintergreen

Weekly Contest #281

*** Continuation of my previous two stories (but can be read as a standalone piece). References to domestic abuse and serious illness*** Helen, I’m sorry I accused you. Forget it, darling, life’s too short… Do have a vol au vent, I made them especially… Mmm… lovely… And a little Prosecco…? You spoil me, you know… Nonsense, Evelyn, it’s your birthday… And nothing says December birthday – fifty-ninth December birthday - more than a picnic in the park… Now, now, don’t forget the Christmas Market… Ah! What a ride… Bet you didn’t expect you’d be...

12 likes 6 comments 6
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Last Christmas Forever

Weekly Contest #280

*** A follow-up to Talk of The Devil. Some mild language and sexual references *** What’s that? What’s what? There, in the window. That big, narrow banner thing with those weird looking symbols all lit up. Didn’t think Starbucks had gone all Chinese. Oh, Evelyn, what are you like? It’s the sign on the side of the Drive Thru reflected. Oh – what? Ord…r… he…? Well, you’d think they’d at least include all the letters and turn them the right way around. Yeah, look funny like that, don’t they? More Korean, I’d say. Well – Chinese, Korean, Greek,...

18 likes 4 comments 4
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Talk of The Devil

Weekly Contest #280

Got to say, Cass, it beggars belief. Here’s me, sixty-two years of age, sacrificed everything, devoted my entire life to my family and now my kids won’t speak to me. I know, that’s awful, Moll… Milk and two? Yeah, like I’m the She Devil herself… Remember that’s how the sequel started? My children will not speak to me…? I remember Book Club, and when your Bernice came down from the bedroom having drawn you with horns and forked tail… Here, careful, think it’s a bit on the hot side… I blame their father, of course. Did his worst once I’d left....

19 likes 12 comments 12
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Fusion

Weekly Contest #279

CW: Mentions of unethical medical practices Lithe of build and bare of limb, he felt the shockwaves as he settled back in his bolted-down padded armchair, his long black hair cascading into the surrounding darkness as he untensed every muscle and sinew and raised his face to pray… In the beginning was the end, and the end would be his glory, for he alone would survive to recreate… He whispered the words not to some unlikely, unproven deity but to the only god he knew – the one he held within him, the god of his untapped and unaltered geni...

30 likes 22 comments 22
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Easy Pickings

Weekly Contest #278

CW - couple of swears Marcus We met on an online forum where she went by the name of Smokie Ise. ‘Call me Isa if you want,’ she said, although I suspected this wasn’t her real name. ‘So… you a sixty a day girl or what?’ She replied with a ROFL and a series of sideways tear-stream laughing emojis. ‘It’s in the avatar, gonk, the way the shadow's done around the eye…’ Guess I knew as little about women’s make-up as I did the way they thought. But the upshot was, at the end of the day I liked her, and I had been widowed a while. Alice I’ve a...

25 likes 7 comments 7
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There's an Ick in Wicked, Right Guys?

Weekly Contest #277

Never let it be said that I wasn’t right behind her when she landed the role of Dot. I’d celebrated too, not that anyone noticed, for having returned from signing the contract, she was so lit up that, of course, it was she who commanded all the attention. But the victory stir was as mine as well, and before the champagne could be sent for, and the fans and Paparazzi arrived, and the corks began to pop, I’d already leapt up onto the sofa and made those Tik-Tok-tastic body-rolls, throwing my arms so high and wide, it had sent the spiders scutt...

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In Absentia

Weekly Contest #277

Beyond the part-demolished, boarded-window disused mills, the weed-strewn patch of land for sale, and the two remaining soot-suffused, red refractory chimneys, the evening clouds are low. They bubble up behind the road-bridge like the mousse of peach champagne. Trees on either side spark the river deep-alive with tall reflections, whilst down the grassy bank on a trail that leads between the heavily scented pines, a man and boy make their way to the water’s edge. The child runs ahead, picks up and skims a stone, its bounce across the surface...

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There'll be Another One Along in a Minute

Weekly Contest #276

I was in Princes Street, Edinburgh when I met him. ‘Hello,’ he said, ‘Are you waiting on a bus?’ And there was me thinking I was playing Sudoku with the numbers on the overhead sign. ‘Oh, shoot, oh no, what am I saying? Of course you are, I’m sorry.’ Well, wasn’t he the perfect little mannerly gent in his private school blazer and tie? And was that a ‘Vote Conservative’ badge on his lapel? Oh my god, another Colin… Little Colin ------- windsor-knotted uptight, leather briefcase in hand and forever quoting Maggie Thatcher. In fact, in those ...

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Did We Ever Think to Flip the Record?

The town I was born and raised in is one of two halves; the flatland to the south of the river and the hill on the other side. An on-off friend I had in my formative years (I'll call her Aubrey) once remarked that the further up the town people lived the more well-to-do they were, and although we were barely thirteen when she said it - and in the slyest and snidest of tones for her house was two streets above mine - if truth be told, she wasn’t far off the mark. Small town, small minds, about sums it up, for whenever I hear of the various c...

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A Pocketful of Glowsticks

Weekly Contest #275

CW: references to drug use/death and attempted child abduction, strong language throughout. With a backward swing of his rucksack, and a purposeful length of stride, Jez Laurie got off the twenty past midnight bus. Lights out behind him and a grudged cheerio from the world-weary driver who thought he knew him from somewhere and had spent much of the two-hour journey grumbling about the state of the nation and a mix of personal and work-related matters. Was it even worth the company’s while to have him carry a single passenger? Did the overt...

28 likes 25 comments 25
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A Jackson Pollock Splattered Milestone

Weekly Contest #274

In a few weeks’ time, you, my dear Centurio, will reach maturity. The second quarter, the silver phase, except we’re being practical here, so let’s call it steel. C21 25 - you could mark that on the handle of a spoon, a ladle, a workman’s tool. Or should that be work-person? No matter, I digress. The branding for now – and I do mean for now – is almost entirely human so do feel free to incorporate it into your latest sheep-in-wolf’s-clothing tattoo, and howl at the moon all you will. As if so much hot air could balloon its celestial body ful...

27 likes 19 comments 19
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Precious

Weekly Contest #274

*** Contains some strong language *** February 2014 ‘Mammy, I’m going to be a mammy.’ Lynne was in the kitchen when the girls arrived. ‘I’m sorry, Mum.’ She’d been preparing veg for the sausage casserole. A winter warmer, a family favourite – enough to go round for her and Greg, and Ruby and Saphie and Jade. Would take about an hour, could be heated up if needs be, a pot full of potatoes just in case; Greg and Jade often ate on the hoof, and Ruby and Saphie sometimes brought their boyfriends back. The fiancé now in Ruby’s case. She’d h...

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