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Laura Elena Oancea

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Feb, 2025

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11 Followers
7 Following

4 Stories

86 karma pts

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Her Own Time

Weekly Contest #297

I never understood what it means to give time. I always thought 'giving time' was just about waiting... but it’s not. Time is a context we create to allow things to unfold. Give time to that thing, not force it! Give it time to think. Over time, things fall into place. Everything takes time, nothing comes overnight. And yet, how do you know when the right time is today and not tomorrow, when things don't fall into place by themselves or through a miracle, when some things need to be done "in time" so they don’t fall into oblivion or to show ...

15 likes 1 comment 1
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The Keeper of Spells

Weekly Contest #295

We’re on the phone."It's too hard, it's killing me. I'm human too—I want to be touched, to talk about intimate things...""Just imagine I'm there," she said."Yeah... Easy to say. My head feels like it's splitting apart, a dull, throbbing ache behind my eyes. I've been crying all day."Silence.Of course, she had nothing to say—what could she possibly say at 19? That she didn’t expect it to affect me this much? That she blocks out her longing and everything she feels for me?Otherwise, why would she say:"Do you think I’m not human too? I suffer a...

11 likes 1 comment 1
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The Misprint

Weekly Contest #293

All I could see through the window was the erroneous result printed by a giant printer. Had it really been malfunctioning for a while? As for our car, it was no longer just a car—it had turned into a suitcase on wheels. Or maybe that’s what all cars really are. But my face reflected on the car window against a green-brown background looked disappointed yet full of hope.As I look out the window, I see everything moving, and I, too, am in motion, like a snail carrying its house on its back, minus the speed. But not because I was in a car that ...

7 likes 2 comments 2
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7 of Cups

Weekly Contest #291

I must, but I don’t have to write prose in the style of Witold Gombrowicz at the creative writing course. I say: - Why not? It was decided that we’d come. Then he asks: - Huh? And will it be? I respond: - Yes, it will be! At the pastry shop, or Cofetterey, as we call it. He says: - Where?! I don’t change overnight. And he grumbles: - I don’t change like the wind blows. And he gets angry: - Who do you take me for? I am who I am. And continues: - The envoy, the inspiration, the guide, the daddy, little shit! I am the Representative of Prose, o...

13 likes 0 comments 0
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