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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Mar, 2024
Submitted to Contest #335
Author’s Note: This piece contains themes of emotional and spiritual abuse, religious trauma, homophobia, and references to self-harm and death (metaphorical)I would give anything to be like him. Loud. Radiant. Unapologetic. Free. I wasn’t. He was a hurricane. And at best… I was a pitiful gust of wind barely stirring up dust in this godforsaken town. He always said what he needed. And always meant what he said. Instead, I danced around the bush as my… charming mother would say. It’s not that I didn’t want to…. But… I couldn’t. I was scared...
I hate The Sea, with a passion. Its…wet…cold…salty and everything I dislike. Its unpredictable…and I hate unpredictable. The Sea is also Unknown. We don’t know what’s in it, not at the deepest depths at least. I’ve watched enough movies to know: Nothing Good Comes From The Sea. Which is ironic seeing as… I’m in the middle of the ocean. I do not want to be, but I am. And I hate it. It’s windy. Windy is dangerous… especially on this rickety old boat. This disgusting boat… in the middle of an even more disgusting Sea. My grandfather would kill ...
Why My Small Town Is The Worst:1. You know everyone.2. People can lie and everyone will believe them.3. You can’t escape them4. Legacies. (To kill and protect.) 5. Her.Small towns suck. It’s all on the list… that’s how I know.I wish I could get out of this godforsaken place.I have never understood why people come to small towns. Maybe to get away from their sad life in the city… Most people from my town would jump at the chance to Escape…. To be free. Most people my age at least.The older generation in this god forsaken town have accepted th...
Submitted to Contest #320
I Remember.I always remember.I watch… and they forget.Not the ones that have been with me since they could howl at the moon, or grow on a tree…But the newcomers… no one ever likes them.They wander in… with Fear. Disdain. Violence. Never Peace. Never Love. And hardly ever Reverence. They smell of iron, sweat and blood… blood of my children. Blood of their children. They enter with quick steps and even quicker heartbeats.I remember it all. Their Hatred. Their Lies.“It’s so quiet here”, they say with their voices like knives.But they are wrong....
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