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Author on Reedsy Prompts since May, 2025
Submitted to Contest #301
Bill’s plan went something like this. At the first sign of snowfall, he would slip into the leather embrace of his rusted worktruck and, taking the route over the mountain, fast around curves and cutting through farmfield, he reckoned he’d reach the bridge after closing, when the lot will empty and a sufficient amount of ice will have formed. He’ll go 60 miles on the comeup to the dark forgotten mouth of the bridge, swaying and creaking and starved of company—the best company, the company that weighs tons—and he’ll brake at the last second, ...
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