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Joshua G. J. Insole

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Aug, 2019

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150 Stories

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Down Came the Rain

Holly Hart smiled as the tree thumped to the grass. Of course, Wallace wouldn’t be happy once he returned. But he should have thought about that before he agreed to a work trip. A work trip that spanned the weekend of their anniversary. And how did that old saying go? Don’t ask for permission, ask for forgiveness? The government could take their Tree Preservation Order and shove it. The property belonged to them, now. How could anyone consider it fair to ban you from doing what you liked on your land? And if Wallace didn’t have the backbon...

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Some Men

Amissa Animabus, otherwise known as The Spirits, watched the man as he woke. First, his deep breaths grew shallower and more rapid. His eyelids fluttered with butterfly-like gentleness. He frowned at the intense sunshine, a sweat already on his brow. A low grumble at the back of his throat, a subvocal complaint. Why couldn’t he sleep forever? His head tossed one way, then the other. Why must he wake up and leave the pillowed land of dreams? “Jefford Benzson,” The Spirits said with its million voices. Its skin rippled and bubbled, a chaot...

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Shared Interests

The Ford Escort’s headlights washed over the figure at the side of the road. A pale white hand and a pale face illuminated in the darkness. Thumb hooked out to the side, in the age-old sign of please give me a lift. Navy blue jacket, black jeans. A black duffel bag slung over one shoulder, stuffed to the brim, the seams on the brink of bursting. A lone silhouette against the backdrop of grey and black hues, not so much as a streetlamp to light him up. Derick Garza grinned and pressed the brakes. He steered the car over to the side of the...

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The Babysitter

Kedron opened the door to me and grinned.“Ah, Grace. Come in, come in! How is life treating you?”“Hiya Kedron. Yeah, not too bad, thanks!” I crossed the threshold and shrugged my coat off, a comical twist of the old tale. Outside, stars winked in the still night sky — thick and sticky, like tar. “How’s everything your end?”“Good, everything is good!” He shut the door behind me. “But, ah, I regret to inform you that Kshipa has begun teething.” Kedron folded his long, delicate fingers together and pulled a funny face. A mix between an apology ...

16 likes 4 comments 4
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Art of the Deal

Cyril Hurlbutt woke up to the sound of water as it lapped against a shore.It took him a few moments to register what could be wrong with that. A pleasant sound, one which had always soothed him to sleep — ever since a small child. So, what, pray tell, bothered him so? Cyril frowned, one foot in the land of dreams, the other hovering above grounded reality. Eyes still scrunched shut, lower lip curled down like the pout of a toddler. The cogs of his brain — rusted and old, but still quite functional, thank you very much — struggled to turn. At...

14 likes 7 comments 7
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Steer Clear of Dogs

The pink-haired woman in the black hoodie locks eyes with me. I glance down at her little corgi, linked to her via a bright red lead. The dog, too, stares at me with its little black eyes. As it spots me, it stops. It doesn’t move at all. It hangs back, shiny lumps of coal focused on me. Only when the lead that Pink holds becomes taut, as she keeps on walking, does the corgi move. One word to describe the dog’s motion: reluctant. I look across the street. All clear over there. I have time to dash over the road — dodge any cars that might...

14 likes 4 comments 4
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How Necromantic

Blamore Rinc opened the cemetery gates, which squalled and sent a murder of crows to the skies. Tucked beneath one black-robed arm, Blamore held a book. The book. Bound in human flesh and inked with human blood. The face of the cover screamed out at the world. In a literal sense. The features browned and wrinkled with time. The holes where the eyes, nose, and mouth sat since sagged into deformity. The Necronomicon. A book some claimed didn’t exist. A book others decried for its “violation of the most basic tenets of human existence.” Well,...

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Adolebitque

Weekly Contest #104

“Are you coming tonight?”Deana looked up from the cow udder and bucket, upon which she had focused. Nelda Wilsone leaned from behind the corner of the Blacke homestead. One hand gripped a wooden beam and she dangled at a precarious angle. Deana wondered what it would be like if she lost her grip and tumbled face-first into a cowpat. And then chastised herself for such an awful thought. God would send her straight to hell for these mental images. Be good, Deana, she told herself.Deana scrunched her nose, and not because of the animals. “I don...

30 likes 5 comments 5
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Session

Weekly Contest #103

Cerise sighed when she spied Adelie curled up in the reading nook, eyes on the rain outside.Her heart sagged in her chest, a damp dress hung over a coat hanger. Limp. The air caught against her ribs, and for a moment, she couldn’t breathe. Framed against the washed-out backdrop of droplets, Adelie looked older than her age. For one frozen snapshot, Cerise caught a glimpse of the adult her little sister would soon become. A temporary maturity — achieved through grief. Every nerve ending and vein ached, and not only for their recent loss. She ...

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Grave New World

Weekly Contest #102

Jim extinguished the fire, even though the children grumbled. “Please, Papa Jim,” said a boy with dark circles around his eyes. “Just five more minutes. I’m awful cold.” He wrapped his arms around his knobbled knees and shivered as if to punctuate his point. Several of the others nodded and mumbled their concurrences. Jim sighed. His eyes darted to the ruined city skyline. Nothing but rubble and rebar. “Now, Boy—” he didn’t name them, it made it too difficult when they died “—you know I can’t do that. The spiders are attracted to the lig...

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Two Cups of Tea

Weekly Contest #101

As always, Leonard woke before his alarm and listened — whilst he lay there — to the creaks of the home. Before the bedside clock could bleat, he reached over and silenced it with a preemptive click. No movement from the other side of the bed, so he snuck out of the bedroom before he woke Myra. Dressing gown swiped from the back of the door — next to Myra’s fluffy pink one — and slippers slipped into. The stairs creaked beneath his weight in all the usual spots — the third, the fifth, and the ninth. The coffee-coloured carpet thinned out...

25 likes 4 comments 4
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Good Eatin'

Weekly Contest #100

At first, the smells had churned her stomach. Knees to her chest, back to the alley wall, Gigi Lamar kept the pressure on the wound. Out of sight from those in the street, she had this little section all to herself. Almost surreal, after the carnage she’d seen, the horrors she’d endured. Her home turned into a battleground, from which she’d fled. But this little spot of an alley, tucked away in the corner of the city? Safe. Even if for a short while. If only they wandered down here, they’d find her weak and vulnerable. She wouldn’t be able...

28 likes 2 comments 2
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Seven Cs

Weekly Contest #99

The ship dips beneath the waves as the Sun dips below the horizon.At first, the water is nice and cool against your sore, red skin. You’ve spent a lot of time exposed to the elements — especially as the Seven Cs began to take on water. Shelter in the shade. Refreshed layers of sunscreen. Proper, regular hydration. These are the sort of things that take a backseat when a hole opens up in the hull. And so, the gentle lap of the sea soothes the quiet grumble of your frayed nerve endings. A wince flickers across your face — the blisters and peel...

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Contact Preclusion

The nuke should have detonated in the air.I stare at the ceiling. Naked wires coil to a bare bulb, which fizzes and flickers above our heads. Not enough to illuminate the shadows that pool in the dark corners. Not enough to add warmth to the cold cement, three feet thick. Ice-cold, ink-black. Our new living quarters. I can’t quite bring myself to say it’s our new home. Nothing about this place is like our old house. A concrete refugee camp. That’s all it is. The metal poles of the cot dig into my flesh. The canvas — stretched taut like a ten...

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There's Your Answer

Weekly Contest #97

Jacqueline Armstrong only looked at her phone for a second. Past eleven at night, she had the mountain road to herself. The twin headlights of her beat-to-hell SUV sliced through the gloom. She’d had the window down for a moment, so the bite of the wind could wake her up. The lake — which glittered in the dark, off to her left — wafted an algae perfume into the car. The radio, its lights like demon eyes in the dusk, glowed red. The DJ mumbled to himself and threw on another classic rock track, as the reception fuzzed in and out. Mmm-mmm....

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