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Chris Nolan

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jan, 2025

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4 Followers
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4 Stories

39 karma pts

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Swing Set

Weekly Contest #349

Note: This story contains themes of suicide, physical violence, abuse, children murdered, and Christian themes. Only Twila remembered when the swing set at the center of the small cluster of houses was a source of fun, before it became the community’s gallows. Twila was of an age where memories of playing on the swings were not that long ago—being twelve years old. Instead, those left behind were taken, some by their own hand, most by others’. Not everyone had fit on the swing set. Concessions needed to be made for taller people, usually hog...

10 likes 3 comments 3
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Cold Brew Coffee

Weekly Contest #309

The package said it was “Cold Brew Coffee”, but it was just coffee made with cold water. Lucy touched the screen on the machine to make a cup of cold caffeinated water.Regardless of the time of year, the office was always hot in the afternoon. Strict rules were in place forbidding any unauthorized person changing the office’s thermostat – the locked box around the thermostat helped enforce the rule. The heat combined with the work duties of filing sales tax returns were a perfect recipe for Lucy falling asleep at her desk. “Cold Brew Coffee”...

4 likes 0 comments 0
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Tuition Assistance

Weekly Contest #307

Pushing the wrench to free the rusted pipe one moment, the next, Jill jerks forward, the squeal of metal — pain explodes in her hand. White tiles dulled by age and lack of care blossom with bright red blotches. “FUCK!” Pulling back her shaking hand, a deep gash, oozing blood. She wraps the hand with a handkerchief; she always carries one. A lesson learned from her grandpa too long ago. “I don’t care what anyone says, always carry a hanky, it’s good for a million things from wiping your nose to wiping a tear.” He had said wiping a tear from a...

2 likes 0 comments 0
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Tuition Assistance

Pushing the wrench to free the rusted pipe one moment, the next, Jill jerks forward, the squeal of metal — pain explodes in her hand. White tiles dulled by age and lack of care blossom with bright red blotches. “FUCK!” Pulling back her shaking hand, a deep gash, oozing blood. She wraps the hand with a handkerchief; she always carries one. A lesson learned from her grandpa too long ago. “I don’t care what anyone says, always carry a hanky, it’s good for a million things from wiping your nose to wiping a tear.” He had said wiping a tear from a...

0 likes 0 comments 0
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