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Greg Miller

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Feb, 2025

Stories (3)

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3 Stories

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Beneath The Stairs

Greg Miller

A cool breeze brushed against Henry Thornton’s skin as he stood on the cracked front porch of his grandmother’s old Victorian house. The air smelled faintly of pine and damp earth, mingled with the fading scent of last night's rain. Henry ran a hand through his thick, dark hair, flecked prematurely with gray despite his youthful thirty-four years. He had the look of a man who carried stories he wasn’t ready to tell, and maybe never would be. The house loomed behind him like an ancient beast, its peeling paint and sagging roofline testament t...

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Stormy Night

Greg Miller

Submitted to Contest #288

Eli Carter stood in the middle of Elm Street, rain pouring down like God’s own wrath, drenching him to the bone. The water hit the pavement so hard it bounced, a million tiny suicides leaping from the sky only to splatter and die. The streetlights flickered, their weak yellow halos barely piercing the downpour. His shoes squelched with each step, and his breath came in tight little gasps. He didn’t know how long he’d been standing there. Minutes? Hours? A lifetime? He had no memory of how he got here. A second ago—or maybe an eternity—he ha...

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The Drought

Greg Miller

Submitted to Contest #288

Summer died fifty years ago, and autumn never came. The sky was a hard shell of endless blue, unbroken by clouds, as if God had dipped His paintbrush in cobalt and forgotten to rinse it out. Heatwaves shimmered off the asphalt like restless ghosts, and the air tasted faintly of burnt rubber and dust—the stale breath of a town stuck in time. Cedar Ridge had always been small, a thumbprint on the back roads of nowhere. There were farms, of course, though most had dried up and blown away with the last real rain. What remained were brittle corn ...

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