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Layla Wright

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jan, 2020

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4 Stories

45 karma pts

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Billy's lemonade stand

Weekly Contest #26

I’ve always wanted to open a lemonade stand. My Ma’ says I’d get sick of it after sitting outside for two minutes but I don’t think she’s giving me enough credit. Finally in the middle of my summer break she helps me decorate a cardboard box and make a pitcher of lemonade.  “Why do you want to open a lemonade stand so bad?” She asks me, as if the reason isn’t obvious. “Because Billy is dead and can’t have his lemonade stand,” Ma’ sighs, “Your brother isn’t dead, he just went to college,” I imitate her sigh and place my hands on my hips,...

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Milkshake for two

“What are your New Year's resolutions?” I ask my friend Tyler, between classes, “I have a couple,” Tyler bumps his shoulder into mine, tilting his head to look at me.  “I only have one,” He says nonchalantly.  “Really?” He nods, “Well, what is it?” Tyler slows down, avoiding my eyes.  “I’ll tell you later,” I’m about to push for an answer when the bell rings, causing me to jump and grab Tyler’s arm. “Wow, you really can’t get your hands off me, can you?” He teases, pulling me closer before seeing the flush on my cheeks and let...

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Gas station snow retreat

Weekly Contest #23

Harold Winter. A word often associated with playing children, icy snow, and Christmas cheer. All things that I hate. The children and Christmas cheer cause too much singing and screams of “Joy” but worst of all is the snow. Snow causes traffic, traffic causes me to be late to work.  In preparation for the lovely snow I woke up at 5:30 AM and skipped my morning coffee to get out of the house early, but it seems the traffic will not cease. I Sit back in my seat, pulling out my phone. I dial my boss, he answers on the first ring. “Hello?” ...

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Always an Outsider

Weekly Contest #22

Most people spend New Year’s Eve drinking champagne with friends, watching the ball drop and stealing midnight kisses, but I sit on the sidelines. My friends apartment buzzes with activity and a drink I don’t plan on drinking sits vacantly in my hand.  People come and go, sitting in the seat next to me and making futile attempts at small talk, but one person feels different, familiar, per-say. “Not one to join the fun?” He asks. His eyes dance over the crowd as ones eyes would watch a flickering flame.  “This is not my kind of fun,...

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