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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jan, 2025
Submitted to Contest #295
Warning; Story contains themes of infant loss, infertilitly, death and dying, and afterlife.There is a portal that only I can see. It hides in plain sight of the darkness behind my eyelids. As a child, I questioned my mother about the window inside my mind that only opened when my eyes were shut, and when the world was quiet.“My dear, you have the gift.” She said. “I have the gift of sound, while you have the gift of sight. Your grandmother had both. You must be very careful with this gift. For while it may seem desirable in times of great g...
Submitted to Contest #286
That was it. That was the last straw. I don’t have to take this from anyone! She clearly doesn’t understand, nor will she ever if she hasn’t figured it out by now. The anger was pulsing through every part of my body, from my toes to my fingertips, and I felt the steam leaving the hair on top of my head. I had seen the pictures on the wall at the town pizza parlor, with the white roof tops and crystal-blue ocean down the mountain side, and I always dreamt of running away to this place. While waiting for my small cheese pizza to ba...
Submitted to Contest #285
It was the late twentieth century, the 1900’s as my children now call it, and I had just sat down at the desk in the second row of my Catholic school’s fifth-grade health class. Topics of such high humiliation potential required us to leave the confines of our regular classroom, and be escorted to the room, I feel, had all the warmth and coziness Roman Catholicism placed on human coitus; the sterile science lab. There was a hum, a buzz in the air if you will, of nervous laughter and anticipation. In the days of yore, one response to se...
Submitted to Contest #284
(Warning: Story contains some references to war and death.) I should’ve known better than to forget more than half of what you said to me, but I will never forget the way you made me feel. I remember studying your face as you sat quietly in your tufted swivel chair made of worn cream-colored corduroy as you rocked gently back and forth in the silence of you; my neighbor’s home. Your hands rested behind your head, and your weathered hazel eyes closed behind your thick, out-of-fashion glasses. With every exhale, you’d allow a breath to collect...
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