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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Oct, 2020
Submitted to Contest #99
Standing on the sand, fresh, a new beginning, knowing that no matter what trespasses on the day, it will be different tomorrow. Wiped clean by the tide of a new day, the imprints of a previous time, only a memory of those who left them. We stand watching as the ocean has ceased to roll as it once did. It no longer brings in the hope and promise it once did, now, it brings only questions, when answers are what we crave, need.I marvel at the lavender colored sky. The future not bright enough to burn off the disappointment t...
I had never met Abernathy Holcomb. I had registered the usual assortment of ancillary references, rather statements, that he was either a genius or and idiot. Having been taught to differ judgement until having at least tasted the soup, I put the lid back on, and reserved the right to judgement for a later time.As life often does, it provides the means necessary to take a stab at fulfilling the improvisational requirements we set for ourselves. I am introduced to Abernathy, who seems at the time, either concerned with the worl...
Submitted to Contest #98
“You can’t go home again? What does that mean? I know about the esoteric meaning, and all the nonsense that goes with it, but you can’t go home again, sounds like a…I don’t know what, but ominous when you think about it.” “And why would that be? I can see circumstances where you couldn’t go home, or not want to. I’ve had more than my share of times like that. But those are usually a temporary stalling mechanism until you can decide if it is safe to show yourself.” “So you were afraid of something?” “It was noth...
“I had the most incredible dream. It was one of those dreams, or whatever you wish to call it, that is so real, you find yourself questioning the genuineness of the dream itself. That ever happen to you?” He just sat there. Didn’t say a word. Just stared at the floor as if he were expecting it to disappear, or move or something. I began to become worried, as that was not like him at all. He usually is conversive, even at times when you wish he’d just shut up and be quiet. I wasn't really seeking conversatio...
I knew a guy once; his name was Nick Rivers. He showed me a story that I didn’t believe at the time, but it helped fill the space I found myself in. Thinking back to that day, I can see where I was, and where he was coming from, what he was attempting to tell me by his silence: I was living at the time along the Salmon River. It is a place as far from reality as I could get. I guess using the word living, would be a stretch. I was existing, escaping, all the imperfectness of a world I had nothing to do with creating,...
Have you ever felt as though the sun is setting, and it is setting on you. They tell me it is depression, but I don’t know that I believe everything they tell me, they have agendas. I have an agenda as well, but I doubt it is compatible with theirs. I have tried explaining my feelings. I am under a spell cast on all those that were born at a particular time, under a particular planet alignment, but they tell me that is just an excuse for my feelings of inadequacy, my lack of self-esteem. I wasn’t even aware I had any...
“I thought you told me he came from Poland.” “No, Austria technically. They were close, and when he moved to a part of town primarily inhabited by Polish immigrants, he went with the flow, easier, safer. His village was close to the border, they spoke the same language, easy default.” “Yes, but then it was not true. Claiming to be from one country when you are from another, seems fraudulent. Why couldn’t he just say he was from Austria?” “I don’t see what difference it makes. Where you are from, should have nothing t...
Submitted to Contest #97
All the overly stated cautions come to mind when your eyes first see the vacant opening in the door, and its shattered remains scattered about the floor. Burglary, vandals, fear, anger, the violation of our sanctity, all the emotional upheaval we experience, and yet there is no solid evidence to back up any of our initial assumptions. The cause for the condition of the door, and the glass pane that once was, and is no more, manages our immediate response.I can only assume it is the shock of the change in normalcy, that brings...
A window of opportunity. What is a window of opportunity, if not the possibility of becoming someone we are not. Someone we wish to become, or something we wish to change, anything different really.Hershel Watts was a person, average by his own estimate, looking for neither fame nor fortune, not that either would be dismissed for cause. He just needed a change. Life had become, the walking exercise tour in the gymnasium on Tuesday mornings, accompanied by swimming aerobics on Fridays and of all things, Interdenominational...
There is something about the rain knocking on your window in the black of night. As I peer through the glass, droplets streaming down its invisible surface, give me a sense of being in that place where life has stopped, the world is standing chastised in the corner. All cares and worry have been washed away. Each drop sliding down the glass carrying with it…? You know that lyric, “Take the dark out of the night time and paint the day time black.” Some nights feel like that. But when you take out the dark, what’s left...
“Step this way. For just a mere pittance, you will experience the mystery of the Orient, the secrets of the Universe, the truth about…” A small car of figures dressed in outlandish clothing, their faces emboldened with accentuated expressions, sped past to the sounds of bulbus horns and laughter. I didn’t hear the prophetic end to his proclamation about discovering anything, and everything, you’d ever considered experiencing. I had to insert words and meaning suitable for the occasion. It didn’t matter. I didn’t have a ...
There was this sound. The kind of sound you hear when asleep. Your mind takes that sound and turn it into a dream. I don’t normally remember my dreams. Most people I’m told, don’t remember their dreams either. That is why I guess this dream must have some significance. It must have a meaning, but I can’t figure out what it is. The sound I remember, and most of the dream, some of the dream. It was a tapping sound, as if coming from under water. Or that thumping sound when you are testing a melon, by ta...
Excerpts from: Purpose and Intent. “Friend!” The word slithers towards you like a serpent from the deserts of Armageddon. I dislike that word, friend, well not the word, as much as the context in which it is used. It implies so much, and offers so little. It is also an overused word, that begs an introduction while offering no security, or vouching for the intentions of the conveyor. I know that in most instances it is not meant to be anything other than a way to introduce yourself cordially, to someone you do not have a re...
Submitted to Contest #96
When I found Amos Bunk, he was a mess. I don’t know what happened exactly, he wouldn’t say. I think he is one of those people, who only find the good in people. And we all know where that leads. It took me nearly an hour to get him to tell me his name. He kept apologizing for having appeared to have been beaten to within an eye lash of death. He looked normal to me in most every way, except he was short. I don’t think he was much over four feet tall, but he appeared much taller. There was just something abo...
I just landed, my first flight, my nerves still on the plane, me waiting for redemption, in a box car terminal. I was to be to plucked from the land of sand and pines, and deposited in my new home away from home, by the sea. A year they said, possibly. The “possibly,” never nudged my complacency from its excited state, as I was leaving the place I had spent the previous minutes, days, years of my life, and was finally escaping into the unknown from the nebulous consistency of a past. It left my envy, envious. I was ...
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