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Cristina Otero

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Mar, 2024

Stories (4)

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4 Stories

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Somewhere

Submitted to Contest #337

Once the officers left, she started to pack. Clothes, a brush, shampoo. Small jewelry. Keepsakes from her cousins in San Juan. Her savings from the flower shop in her coat pocket. Toothbrush. What else? Would we stay at a hotel? He told her about an aunt of his who lived up north at Morningside Heights, but if that plan fell through, they would have to stay at a hotel. She’d write to Papá, of course. (Pen and paper! Yes, those, too). Once she and her man were settled…once they were safe, they would confess their love, confess it all. Tell t...

5 likes

The Devil You Say

“You wanted to see me? What a surprise.” “I can be spontaneous if so inclined. I had a feeling you of all would appreciate the gesture.” “Oh, I do, love, believe me. Do my eyes deceive me, or do you look rather peckish in this light? Not that there is much variety here. White-on-white, you know, leaves little impression.” “Very funny. Did you think that one up in a hundred millennia down at your little club or been keeping it on reserve for our next meeting?” “So you do have a sense of humor after all. I was starting to worry. Careful to hi...

0 likes

Too Like the Lightning

Submitted to Contest #257

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of plague, it was the age of plague, it was the epoch of no sword control, it was epoch of no gun control, it was the season of theater box-office hits and flops, it was the season of movie theater box-office hits and flops, it was the summer of my love, it was the winter of our discontent, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we had made substantial progress, we had made no progress—in short, it was modern times and Elizabethan England and we were all goin...

12 likes

1596

Submitted to Contest #255

His boy had arrived at his apartment in Bishopsgate, all the way from Oxford. He was already taller than him, lanky, with honey hair and doe eyes. His face was slightly oval, with warm, open expression. His likeness, clearly—and yet when he looked at him, all he could think about was Anne. “We’re on the Sallust, such a bore,” he griped, tired but cheerful, casting off his traveling cloak and gloves. “I lodge at Middle Temple with my friend Hal, I think I told you of him. I thought to surprise you.” He hesitated. “You are not angry?” “Nay, n...

3 likes