Menu

More apps built by Reedsy

Assemble a team of professionals

The writing app for authors

Writing courses, events and memberships

Get your book reviewed

Weekly writing prompts and contests

Menu
Prompts
Contests
Stories
Blog

Elizabeth CHEN

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Apr, 2026

Stories
Comments
Library
13 Followers
3 Following

6 Stories

46 karma pts

?

Let go?

I slammed the front door shut, the wood rattling hard against the frame. I didn't even bother kicking off my shoes. I just scrambled up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and bolted into my room. I turned the key in the lock until it clicked, then leaned my whole weight against the door, my heart hammering against my ribs.Downstairs, Mum was yelling something from the kitchen. Her voice was sharp, but it sounded distant and muffled, like I was listening to her from the bottom of a swimming pool. I couldn't deal with it right now. I walke...

3 likes 1 comment 1
Read story

Losing the sun

Losing the sun ‘The heavy dark cloud was raining on my heart, wishing I could rewind time. Nobody said it would be this hard, the shame of us parting still ringing in my ears. But I guess no one said it would be easy either. I still wish I could go back to the start, build a Time Machine, go to that day, and just say it was a prank. Maybe that would’ve prevented the breakdowns, the loneliness I felt for months having only one person actually on my side and who didn’t say I’m not sided but you are being unreasonable and an attention seeker, t...

6 likes 8 comments 8
Read story

Eighty-four years of sinking laughter

DISCLAMER: MENTIONS THEMES ABOUT DEMENTIA AND LOSS, MAY BE SENSITIVE TO CERTAIN READERS Eighty-Four Years of Sinking Laughter I knew Elias was gone even long before his heart stopped beating; my walls were still heavy with his wife’s laughter while his own eyes had turned into empty rooms. I am the only thing that still remembers that exact azure shade of blue his daughter's eyes were, because Elias now looks at the photo and asks the nurse who this pretty stranger is. It feels like he is a hollowed out tree wandering through his own history...

5 likes 5 comments 5
Read story

A Vacant World in Colour

DISCLAIMER: introduces themes about death A Vacant World In Colour The air felt thick and still as I sat in the dimness. Purple is my favourite colour, even though I cannot see it. When he spoke, he explained purple as a soft velvet blanket that could tuck away the world. It is the colour of safety and the feeling of being loved. It is quiet and heavy, like a long held secret, but in a way that makes you feel protected from everything else. Like the slow resonant vibration of a cello, a low note that I feel in my chest where it echoes agains...

4 likes 3 comments 3
Read story

A Month At The Front

DISCLAMER: contains topics such as war, and loss A Month At The Front When I came home, everything was the same. The house still carried that familiar scent, a mixture of floor wax and my mother’s cooking. My father was there of course, with his hand wrapped around a glass of red wine. He had been drinking more lately; he was a quiet and retired man who had found a way of disappearing into the furniture, fading into the background until he was just another shadow in the corner. My mind drifted back to the kitchen. My mum was so proud of that...

5 likes 6 comments 6
Read story

24 years underwater

24 years underwater The swash whispered as the wave broke onto the shore, a delicate, rhythmic sigh that felt like the Earth was breathing with me. The seafoam, light as spun sugar, washed across the rigid pebbles in a gentle, bubbling lace before retreating to the deep. As another tide came, it felt majestic and mysterious, a vast expanse that was so empty yet so full of life all at the same time like a liquid desert made of dreams. I stared at that blue. It was a regal azure colour, the kind of shade that belonged in a stained glass window...

5 likes 5 comments 5
Read story