Menu

More apps built by Reedsy

reedsymarketplace

Assemble a team of professionals

reedsystudio

The writing app for authors

reedsylearning

Writing courses, events and memberships

reedsydiscovery

Get your book reviewed

reedsyprompts

Weekly writing prompts and contests

Menu

Prompts

Contests

Stories

Blog

James V

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Dec, 2024

Stories

Comments

Library

16 Followers

23 Following

9 Stories

188 karma pts

?

Before Noon

James V

Weekly Contest #369

The bed was filled with the piss and sweat stains of those who had been here before me. The walls were sweating with the anxiety and dread they had absorbed from the countless men who had sat in the same position as me, waiting for their fate. I knew mine. At noon today, I would be hanged in the center of town, where acquaintances and strangers alike would get to see my final moments. I tried not to think about which way my body would swing or how long it would last. I had asked the sheriff just to shoot me, but he kept telling me, “I’m not ...

0 likes

Read story

Romance Island

James V

Weekly Contest #335

The house sat like a jewel dropped carelessly into the blue, all white walls washed in pinks and purples once the sun dipped low. Blue lights wrapped around its edges, glowing even in daylight, as if the place needed to remind everyone that it was special. Cameras blinked from every corner—under eaves, beside doors, near the pool—never sleeping, never missing a moment of the ten twenty-somethings trapped inside. This was Romance Island, a show designed to convince loveless people they could find something meaningful under enough sun, alcohol...

9 likes

Read story

Assisted (or 3 Views of Death)

James V

Weekly Contest #330

The Dad woke to a bright, sunny morning. Through the window, he could see the trees beginning to turn their fall colors. The air was brisk. Forty degrees, the kind of cold that woke the bones even when the sun promised a clear day. He dressed slowly, pulling on his khakis and his navy wool sweater. It was his favorite. His wife had bought it for him on their trip to England in the 1990s, from a little shop off the English Channel. He’d lost it for years and found it again only after sorting through her things when she passed. He layered a gr...

11 likes

Read story

The Night of an Execution

James V

Weekly Contest #318

It was 2 a.m. Emilio leaned back in his chair, eyes on the security monitors, watching the prisoners sleep. He saw them toss and turn, heard faint snores through the static, and felt his own eyelids beginning to grow heavy. It wasn’t a glamorous job, but the night shift on death row had its own rhythm in that it was quiet, eerie, and always reminding him that every cell he scanned had once held someone who was now gone.Later that day, one of those empty beds would have a new vacancy. Reverend Franklin was scheduled for execution, fast-tracke...

14 likes

Read story

AskChat

James V

Weekly Contest #304

Another family was dead. Another teenager sat quietly on the front steps, waiting for the police to arrive.It was a Wednesday night, and dinner was still on the table. Chicken cutlets with pesto pasta. A favorite of the Benedetti family. Now, the cutlets were cold, and the pasta was speckled with the blood of the family matriarch.Prosecutor’s Detective Al Stewart, a former NYPD officer who had retired into what was supposed to be quieter work with the Prosecutor’s Office, pulled up in front of the house. He sat in his car for a moment, poppe...

9 likes

Read story

Clown Show

James V

Weekly Contest #299

Yo-yo stared at the wall in front of him, inspecting each speck of brick laid decades ago by some long-dead brick master. How proud must that guy have felt, finishing a wall with his bare hands, spinning concrete like it was art, smoothing every last glob with precision?And now here Yo-yo was—hungover, wearing piss-soaked drawers, half-assed face paint melting in the heat, sitting in a beat-up 2005 Ford Taurus with a different-colored fender and a side mirror held on with Scotch tape.He had a college degree. He could’ve been on the ground fl...

7 likes

Read story

Hong Kong

James V

Weekly Contest #291

Terry had crossed a city he barely understood, among people whose language he could not speak. And yet, with her, none of it felt foreign. They had only just met, but it was as if they had lived a lifetime together in these few hours. The tangled streets, the neon lights shimmering in puddles, the weight of something unspoken between them—it wrapped around him like a spell. He followed blindly, mesmerized, as she led him deeper into the labyrinth of Hong Kong’s backstreets.Then she stopped.The stench of rot hung in the damp air. Weeks-old ga...

16 likes

Read story

The Preachers of Times Square Don’t Want You to Forget

James V

Weekly Contest #288

The preachers of Times Square stood lined up on their makeshift pulpits—soapboxes, overturned crates, cardboard stands—each delivering their daily sermons to anyone willing, or unwilling, to listen. They came in all forms: different faiths, different beliefs, different levels of sanity. This was the reality of the city—freedom of expression at its most unfiltered, ready to invade your mind with the most incoherent ramblings you’d ever hear.A storm was coming. The wind was crisp, cutting through the city streets as Sarah and Joseph walked tog...

10 likes

Read story

The Bookie Boys

James V

Weekly Contest #286

“I swear to God himself, Earl Morrall should be shot, and if they need someone to do it, I’ll drive down to Baltimore right now to make sure that useless sack of shit never touches the football field again.” Isaac slammed his hand against the steering wheel, his rage bubbling over as he ranted about the Baltimore Colts’ humiliating defeat to the New York Jets in Super Bowl III. They’d lost to Joe Namath and the Jets, and Isaac wasn’t about to let it go.Ten minutes into this tirade, Louis, sitting in the passenger seat, let out a long sigh. T...

11 likes

Read story