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Christopher Cayen-Cyr

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Sep, 2020

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68 Followers
4 Following

57 Stories

1123 karma pts

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Bowties, Lipsticks & Guilt

Weekly Contest #62

Tick. Tock. With every cigarette puff he drew, Victor was reminded of the passing of time by the mechanical ticking of his watch as his wrist got sufficiently close to his ear for the sound to be audible. He could have gone without these steady reminders; it was about time he invested in a smart watch instead. Analog was being phased out for a reason. Ten seconds had passed since the cigarette had been lit. How easily seconds turned into minutes, he thought. Minutes just as easily turned into hours, and hours into days, weeks, years. Just ...

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Pick One

Weekly Contest #61

This wasn’t the first time Julie saw bickering parents fighting over the custody of their child, although it might have been the first time she saw such dedication to a counselling session that was going nowhere. By now, most couples would have given up and hired lawyers. Yet, both Harry and Carrie were still sitting there in front of her, their arms crossed, young Steven sandwiched between the two of them. The silence must have settled fifteen minutes ago by now, and it had no end in sight. As perfectly feng shui as her office was, there ...

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Her Own Mystery

Weekly Contest #61

“It’s in all the papers,” muttered Madge under her breath. “Her memory wiped out, just like that, out of the blue? This can’t be happening.”She was nervously pacing up and down the opulent Abney Hall corridor as Dr. Doyle clumsily attempted to reassure her. Each of her steps on the thick carpet sent a barely noticeable layer of dust flying into the air. This is exactly what was needed, she thought: for the dust to settle. Indeed, the events of the past few days had lifted a considerable amount of dust into public consciousness. Her sister wa...

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You May Never Kiss the Bride

Weekly Contest #60

Time was running out; Fake Elvis did not seem to understand the urgency of the situation. In fact, he was so oblivious to it that Stella was dangerously close to grabbing his cheap guitar and smashing it violently on top of his slick black hair. “…for you can’t help falling in love with each other,” the impersonator slowly spoke, his overbearing enunciation betraying a certain level of drunkenness. “Can’t we go through this any quicker?” insisted Stella. “It’s not like there’s anything official about the ceremony anyway.” Her insistenc...

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About That Zombie Selfie

Weekly Contest #60

To all my Instagram followers,Let me make this clear. I’m not making this post to apologize. I ain’t apologizing to any of you haters out there. This cancel culture that I have been a victim of is toxic, and when you send toxicity into the world, it will come to poison you right back, just like Mama always says. I am me, in all my me-ness, and I’m not letting anybody threaten my me-dom. You do you, but you stay out of my business. The only reason I’m posting this is to clear things up and set the record straight. I’m not letting all of this ...

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I See, You See, They See

Weekly Contest #59

Great destruction will soon rain upon us, once the Intruder crosses the gates of our hallowed halls. We may only survive by raining destruction upon the Intruder first. Dusk is drawing near. The harsh shrubs of the Sonoran Desert seem to stretch to infinity in the distance, vanishing into the orange hues hovering over the horizon. As you drive down the Devil’s Highway at a dizzying speed, the Arizona landscape blurs itself into a liquid mix of limestone reds and succulent greens. Attempting to distinguish the elements of scenery in that fr...

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Weave Your Life

Weekly Contest #59

Weave all day. Weave all night. Weave every instant of your existence. That’s what the Spider Queen expected of her offspring. The dusty attic, filled with hoarded artifacts from multiple generations of homeowners, was already covered in cobwebs from ceiling to floor, but it was never enough. While the Queen was always eager to teach her children the technical intricacies of preying on flies, weaving transcended the mundane function of hunting for food. It was an art form, the supreme expression of spider skill. “Master the ancient craft o...

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Tears of Belkior

Weekly Contest #59

“Mother, why is it water is constantly pouring from high above?” “I have told you many times, my son. These are the tears of Almighty Belkior.” “But it almost never stops!” “Perhaps if you stopped making Belkior unhappy with your bad behavior, he would stop crying, wouldn’t he?” No matter how many times I asked Mother, I was always given the same answer. I must have been only two years old when I first dared to ask, and at the time it was easy for me to cower in guilt at the thought of making mighty Belkior angry. Unfortunately, to M...

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Into the Spirit Realm

Weekly Contest #59

Nothing irked Marianne more than a subway ride late at night. It was practically impossible to find a wagon that wasn’t taken over by party goers who reeked of drunkenness and sweat. The seats were all covered in filth from a day’s worth of spilled fast food and coffee, so sitting was simply not an option. Standing wasn’t glorious either: the steel poles must also have been contaminated by a thousand germs and unknown substances, and she would rather have died than be forced to come into any form of contact with them. She therefore stood in ...

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When the Clock Strikes Ten

Weekly Contest #58

Kingpin Arthur is what they called him. Nobody knew what he looked like or how old he was, but everybody cowered when his name was spoken. His shadow loomed over New York City in the form of a sinister tower, one that stood menacingly at the center of the Manhattan skyline as a symbol of power and influence. While much of his life was shrouded in mystery, many speculated he had inherited his media empire from family ties. Perhaps he was related to the Dreiden Family, or the Napier Family. No wonder the man named himself after Arthurian legen...

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Sparks Between Us

Weekly Contest #58

      100%            She was delivered to Albert fully charged. The deliveryman carried the heavy, human-sized wooden crate off his truck with an old rusty trolley that nearly toppled over in the middle of the suburban street. Spring had barely settled, and the frightening sound chased away a yellow-feathered warbler eating grains in the birdhouse on the front lawn.            “Careful!” yelled Albert, ...

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Five Days of Highs and Lows

Weekly Contest #57

August 21st, 2008. The happiest day of my life. A summer storm washed away the countryside as I drove your mother to the hospital. Her contractions were steady, and the incessant rain clouding the windshield filled her heart with fear, the fear that lives in every mother when the safety of her child is at play. You were still on the cusp of birth, but she was very much a mother already. She had always been. “Slow down,” she repeated. “I swear, Tyler, if you drive us into a ditch in the middle of nowhere, you better learn how to deliver a bab...

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