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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Sep, 2019
Submitted to Contest #181
TW: foul language, non-P.C. labeling A weird thing’s been goin’ on with me, something I wasn’t thinkin’ would ever happen. I’ma just tell ya this straight: I’ma freak. You would never notice me, and if you did all’s you’d see’d be some too-skinny, too-tall boy (which I’m not) who has a fucked-up face. Getting not noticed is best for me, and as far as me ever getting to like myself, might as well tell me to skateboard up Mount Everest. It’s just too high, too far, and gravity sucks too hard. If you think about it, there’...
Submitted to Contest #171
(lesbian love)In CrayoleseWhen all you have is a slingshot, every problem looks like a window. Kit DavidstoneThere are in my entire memory just a few times when I have been slapped into a sudden clear awareness of life; when I suddenly began to understand my purpose, and believed that fulfilling it might actually be within my reach. I’m having one now, lying in bed just before dawn. Outside I know the mountain sky has been colored with soft, rosy Crayolas in apricot, yellow orange, goldenrod and salmon. To reproduce what ...
Submitted to Contest #68
It had been twenty-four years since she’d last seen it, but the place looked exactly the same. Although in possession of a full set of keys to the house she had remained for some time on the front porch where the heavy front door still held a mosaic window of lead-jointed obscured glass. The window permitted light but so distorted the shape of any person on the door’s other side that identification was quite impossible until the door was opened. Once the antique bell pull had been drawn down, it was only possible to tell that ...
Submitted to Contest #51
Green is the color of wishes, the color of hope that holds itself up on shaking legs even when all seems lost. So many ways to wish: birthday candles and wishbones, tossed pennies, dandelions and here’s one you probably never heard of. My mother Clare used to say said that the fat green beetles buzzing around Auntie Sander’s fruit trees all summer came from the place where wishes could become real. She called them figgy beetles.Being a child of action rather than contemplation, I would snatch a figgy out of the air and play wi...
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