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DC Farley

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Apr, 2025

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558 Followers
18611 Following

9 Stories

462 karma pts

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The Price of Keeping Things Running

Weekly Contest #366

In January of 1990, the pipes froze in the wall behind Daniel Harper’s office.He knew it before Ralph did.There was a certain silence to frozen plumbing, a missing hum beneath the ordinary sounds of the building. Daniel could hear the difference between a transmission slipping and a torque converter failing before most mechanics had finished describing the problem. He recognized trouble by absence.He shut off the water before the pipe burst.Ralph stood in the doorway wearing an army surplus coat and holding a foam cup of coffee.“You ...

20 likes 6 comments 6
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Black Water Summer

Weekly Contest #343

CW: Sexual abuse of a minor, incest, suicide or self-harm, substance abuse, physical violence(Inspired by the music of Pearl Jam) The first time Jimmy saw Heather, she was walking barefoot across the parking lot of the public beach with a surfboard under her arm and a cigarette tucked behind her ear like it belonged there. It was early June, the kind of morning when the lake looked like hammered metal and the sky hadn’t decided what it wanted to be yet. Jimmy had just gotten off the night shift at the gas station. His shirt still smelled lik...

52 likes 15 comments 15
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Trudy

Weekly Contest #335

I am not supposed to be awake yet.That’s what I think first, before I understand anything else. My eyes are open, but the room feels wrong—too still, like someone paused it mid-breath. The ceiling fan isn’t moving. The light coming through the window doesn’t shift when I blink. Dust hangs in the air like it forgot how to fall.I try to sit up.Nothing happens.Not pain. Not resistance. Just… nothing. Like my body missed a memo.I laugh a little, because that’s what you do when something doesn’t make sense and you’re trying to be normal about it....

43 likes 25 comments 25
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Sideways Gift

Weekly Contest #334

Once Upon a Time...in a town that had never seen snow...well... at least that was the thing the real estate brochures leaned on—four hundred days of sun a year, temperate coastal breezes, winter evenings that smelled like citrus instead of rot. The wealthy loved it because it promised continuity. No seasons snapping at their heels. No reminders that time moved forward whether you wanted it to or not.They called it Clearwater Reach, though it was neither clear nor reachable anymore. Once a fishing town, then a tech haven, now a hedge-fund...

33 likes 9 comments 9
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What's Driving Draven?

Weekly Contest #322

Rick Draven sat hunched at his desk, shoulders locked in the familiar knot of submission. The screen in front of him shimmered with cascading data sets, endless prompts that required only his supervision. It was all a formality, really. The machine didn’t need him anymore. It just needed his confirmation, his flesh-and-blood signature that kept the corporate lawyers comfortable. His once accomplishing job transitioned and boiled down to training the artificial intelligence that would eventually absorb his role completely. Yet, here he was, f...

38 likes 13 comments 13
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An Adventure With POT-MAN

Weekly Contest #311

"You know," Kevin mused, swirling the amber liquid, "I once invented a concrete-pouring suit. I believed it could have revolutionized the construction industry." Wayne looks up, momentarily distracted from his woes. "A concrete-pouring suit? You mean like…a wearable cement mixer?" Kevin grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Precisely! Though the whole 'constant refilling' aspect proved…problematic. It was less 'revolution' and more 'concrete-covered disaster'." He pauses, a lightbulb seemingly flickering above his head. "But… for potho...

40 likes 7 comments 7
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Green Light Island

The tiki bar, a ludicrously ornate structure of carved wood and glowing amber lights, set in the center of a circular enclosure. Metal gates, spaced evenly, formed a perimeter, separates a small group of people celebrating around the bar from other, similar groups are scattered across the island. Beyond the gates, indistinct shapes move; occasional glimpses of other faces, shadowed and distant, visible through the gaps in the metalwork. The air hangs thick with the scent of rum and something else, something subtly metallic and unsettling. On...

22 likes 1 comment 1
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Jenny

Weekly Contest #309

The air in Haight-Ashbury vibrated with a thousand conversations, a symphony of strummed guitars, and the scent of patchouli and freedom. Jenny McCormick, her long, dirty blonde hair catching the afternoon sun, leaned against a weathered storefront, sketching in her notebook. Suddenly, a young man with eyes the color of a summer sky and a mop of unruly dark hair bumped into her, scattering her charcoal pencils. "Whoa, sorry!" he exclaimed, a grin splitting his face. "Heath's the name." "Jenny," she replied, laughing at the slight chaos. He h...

51 likes 21 comments 21
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It Was All Just A Dream

Weekly Contest #308

Ellen awoke gasping, sweat clinging to her skin. The familiar nightmare had returned. She had been swimming, the turquoise water deceptively calm. Then, a shadow. The Great White Shark, a monstrous silhouette, appeared beneath the surface. Torn, lifeless bodies floated nearby, a grim testament to its previous hunts. Panic seized her. The shark's attack was swift, brutal. She felt the crushing pressure, the searing pain. Water filled her lungs. Darkness threatened. Then, impossibly, the clouds above parted, revealing a column of blinding ...

69 likes 38 comments 38
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