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Jay C

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Nov, 2023

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Weekly Contest #369

The kettle clicks off and her daughter reaches for two mugs from the cupboard, the chipped one and the one with the fox on it, the same two they always used. She sets them on the counter, drops a bag in each, fills them without measuring, the way she used to when she was in a hurry to get back to whatever she'd been doing before the tea occurred to her. Steam curls up from both cups. Outside the window over the sink, someone's sprinkler ticks on, off, on. Her daughter blows across the tea and says something about the neighbor's dog getting l...

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Maps for the Unlost

Weekly Contest #351

Once, in a house at the edge of an ordinary street, a mother wrote by lamplight while her daughter slept. The lamp was brass and old and threw uneven gold across the pages. The desk was cedar, and she could smell it when she leaned close, sharp and clean beneath the ink. Kylie's handwriting slanted left in the manuscript, each letter pressed hard enough to indent the page below. She was writing a story for Luna. A gift. A map. The girl walked into the forest at the edge of her garden. The trees knew her name before she spoke it. She paused. ...

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The Shape of Silence

Weekly Contest #330

The corridor hung suspended in artificial brightness, silent except for the electrical hum overhead.Selene's fingers found the edge of her N95 mask, pressing the wire tighter against the bridge of her nose until it ached. The hospital corridor stretched ahead, forty feet of beige linoleum buffed to a dull shine. Antiseptic hung in the air sharp, chemical cut through with something underneath, floor wax maybe, or the particular staleness of recirculated breath.Last-minute call. Emergency interpreter needed. They'd shoved the file into her han...

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The Story Without an Author

Weekly Contest #310

The overhead fluorescents hummed their familiar dirge as Elysia adjusted Mrs. Chen's pillow. The old woman's breathing had settled into the shallow rhythm that meant days, not weeks."There," Elysia whispered, smoothing the blanket. "Better?"Mrs. Chen's eyes fluttered open, unfocused but grateful. Her hand twitched against the covers, and Elysia caught it gently, feeling the papery skin and bird-bone fingers. How many hands had she held like this? How many last breaths had she counted?Her phone buzzed. A text from her brother: Still coming to...

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MISTERY BOX IN THE ANTIQUE SHOP

Riley turned into the dusty parking lot, tapping the steering wheel as several moving vans finished unloading the latest abandoned storage containers slated for auction. She had always loved playing the lottery of opening those lost vaults, unearthing people’s left behind treasures...or trash. Her thrift shop needed some quirky new inventory and today felt promising. Riley entered Unit A24 first, flicking on glaring overhead lights. An initial scan showed holiday decorations, old electronics equipment stacked haphazardly around shop tools...

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Junkyard of Dreams

The shriveled husk of a rat lay baking in the relentless sun—the third one Daria had seen this morning. She shook her head bitterly and turned away. This drought was slowly strangling the life from her people, leaving the desert settlements shrouded in despair. Who knew how much more their meager water ration could sustain them? As Daria gazed over the fractured walls of the dead city rising from the haze, she felt a spark of hope pierce her gloom. The mysterious note had pointed them to an uncharted oasis somewhere beyond these ruins. An oa...

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