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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jul, 2024
Submitted to Contest #335
Johnny sighted along the sleek lines of black metal resting comfortably in his gloved hand. He followed the barrel down, bringing into sharp focus a scattering of poor souls, quivering on the ground at its end. He made sure to keep his trigger finger clamped tightly against the body of his pistol. It never ventured a hairs breadth closer to the lever that would end two lives with one pull. Johnny had plans for his future. He swallowed a sigh. Watching them lay there, foreheads pushed onto the dirty tiles by the force of their own clasped han...
Submitted to Contest #334
Familiar reed beds swept by, the lethargic current of the waterway carrying Tien ever closer to his past. He helped himself along with lazy kicks of his great taloned feet and held his long neck high. The meandering streams forked and twisted across the whole area, yet his memory of the place was sufficient to find the path. No matter how much he wished it wasn’t. It would be so much easier to get lost and turn back, but as it was, they would arrive on time. Habitually he shook his thick white feathers, shedding droplets of water everywhere,...
Submitted to Contest #333
Charlie sliced meat like he knew his way around a blade. The quick, confident cuts that separated bone from sinew was something that stirred questions for Hayley, but she knew better than to blurt them out. Men like Charlie usually had a past better left undisturbed.“Relax,” He said, quirking one eyebrow. She had paused too long on her own prep, the lack of motion drawing his attention, “my father owned a butcher shop up in Connecticut. Used to help out after school. A mans hand’s don’t forget work like that.”Hayley quickly dropped her eyes ...
Submitted to Contest #332
Earth was named after the ground, for that is where its resources hid. Indra, was colonised for its skies. A familiar blue reigned over the planet, which was slowly being painted gold by the setting of its giant, red sun. Streaks of violet highlighted the valuable hexium gas pockets, staining the swarms of human ships that circled them. The foreign star birthed a light show that could help even the lowliest worker forget the ugliness of the surface. Yet, Tybalt allowed only a sparing glance for the beauty of it. He turned his gaze toward the...
Shortlisted for Contest #331 ⭐️
Trigger Warning: Suggestions of abuse, death and mental health. A whirl of snow chased Becca as she burst through the thick door. She slammed it with a backward kick and darted forward across the cabin, making a direct line for the fireplace. Biting the padded gloves from her hands, she flicked them to the ground and presented her icy fingers to the flames. She panted and sniffed, puffing out cold air from her lungs with intermingled groans. She wriggled her tingling fingers, the heat of the roaring fire slowly bringing them back to life. Cl...
Submitted to Contest #330
“I’ll die for you” Whispered the older man to his son, “You know that...don’t you?”Stone dust fell in a cascade from the ceiling, intermittent waves of it, never running dry. Every time a loud thud reverberated through the building above, it shed endless debris into the cold cellar.“I know, father. I do. But now is hardly the time for such talk. We’ll get home safely, then figure out what to do about all this. I know it’s a long way and I’m asking much…but she's waiting. I fear...we will need to push on soon. Not much choice in it.”Isaac tur...
Submitted to Contest #328
Galfrid Blyth looked past his campfire to the stars, his sword resting over his knees and reflecting the dancing light. Henry Blyth lit a cigarette, illuminating the night for a moment, before tossing the empty matchbook into the mud and repositioning his rifle against his shoulder. Kalfrit Blyth slid the dial on his utility bracer to push a white glow out into the void, flicking his wrist to set his repeater into his grip. Each rested on the eve of war. “Are you shittin’ your pants, Galfrid!?” A gruff voice bellowed. Shortly followed by Bol...
Submitted to Contest #327
Duke was humiliated. To be cornered so completely by his own hubris…it was shameful. He looked down through the gnarled branches at the hard ground, so very far below and rumbled displeasure at the back of his throat. It had been bird. Simply a bird, that had been his undoing. One he had never seen before. Bright, shining and so exotic he had salivated over its imagined taste. But it had been a trap. The dazzling beauty had lured him higher and higher, until he was too far gone. Then it had simply fluttered away into the sky, turning to a do...
Submitted to Contest #326
Silence is never absolute. There are always sounds. The creak of a house. The rattle of the wind. The rustle of a leaf. We simply never assign any note to the noises that are our daily companions. The mind accepts them as normal, as safe, and allows us to comfortably ignore them. Such was my home, for years. Surrounded by the familiar, I would snuggle down into my evenings, hot mug in hand and with a woollen blanket’s embrace. Alone, I would accept the move and sway of my little world and pay it no mind. Until one night. The evening where fo...
Submitted to Contest #324
Water flowed slowly, yet powerfully, around and past Reto. The surface was painted green with the reflections of trees, towering over its mirror. His father’s canoe put a thick wooden wall between him and the liquid forest. Its embrace made him feel safe, able to move with the strength of the river, as part of it, rather than against it. Dipping his oar gently below the surface, he swirled the images into a mess of murky debris and glided forward. The great river, the Rio Amazonas, mother of all things and giver of life, fell before Reto’s o...
Shortlisted for Contest #322 ⭐️
My father was a runner. Every day he would wake before the sun rose, and I’d hear the front door click against the frame as he crept out to thunder around the city. He would never whisper goodbye, or kiss our sleeping foreheads. He would simply be gone when the house began to stir. My mother would make us breakfast, get us to school and reliably see us through the day. My father would go straight from his pavement pounding to his very ordinary office job. He would not return until my brother and I were safely back in warm pyjamas and ready t...
Submitted to Contest #321
It was unusual to find another traveller on the road to the dead lands. Plenty moved in the opposite direction, eyes down, trying everything to avoid acknowledging the existence of the blackened landscape. But not once in his long journey had Bolden found someone imitating his own path. It was suspicious. He had intentionally maintained a distance between himself and the stranger as they both strode along the old road. He walked warily, matching the speed of the man throughout the ever-stretching day of travel. That evening, after the miles ...
Submitted to Contest #320
The deep and dark forest was a tapestry of green. Hanging leaves, shrubs and branches, idyllic and serene. Emma flitted and flapped, sprinting around the tall trees. She was lightning, a blur, going wherever she pleased. Her feathers were preened; they were smooth as a sheet. That evening she hunted, for something to eat. It was never a challenge to fill her small belly. She was fast and the opportunities, well, they were many. Bugs, nuts, berries and plenty of fruits; her favourites were the freshest from newly grown shoots. She ate her fil...
Submitted to Contest #319
Darkness parted ahead of Sir Baristan, like waters before a ship. The murk was sliced apart by the wondrous effect of his armour. Enchantments etched into the metal created the fortunate side effect of a golden, glowing light, which emanated strongly from the full suit whenever it touched against his skin. The effect was strong enough to illuminate much of the underground cavern, allowing the army at his back to see a good distance forward, where normally all would be lost to the stone above. He winced whenever his eyes drifted up to the opp...
Submitted to Contest #317
Reginald saw no change at all in the man sat across from him. He didn’t appear to have even moved. His old face was still creased with deep lines; his cheeks were redder than they used to be and what was left of his hair was just as grey as always. The damn fool had gone and gotten old. He hadn’t truly noticed until that moment. But then, when was the last time he had really looked at his friend? It never seemed necessary. He knew the twit's face well enough, having to deal with it every damn day for the past thirty years. No matter. He was ...
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