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Megan Cianfaglione

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Apr, 2025

Stories (17)

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17 Stories

310 karma pts

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Wish You Were Here

Megan Cianfaglione

Submitted to Contest #339

The coffee pot used to empty faster when he was there.There were mornings when I didn’t even notice him pour the first cup. I’d be half-awake, hands busy, already moving through the day on muscle memory. Then I’d turn toward the pot and feel that small, irrational disappointment when it was lighter than it should’ve been.It became a joke, but also a comfort—predictable in the way that mattered. The way you don’t need to ask if something will happen because it always does. He’d lift the pot, pour the remaining few burnt drops into his mug wit...

9 likes

Out of Stock

Megan Cianfaglione

Submitted to Contest #338

Living in the South means winter is forty degrees on a cold day, with the occasional cold weekend. In recent years its become more common to issue tornado warnings during 70-degree weather in January. The alert hit my phone in the middle of the afternoon, vibrating against the counter like it was trying to crawl away.WINTER STORM WARNING.By then, the numbers had already changed three times. First, it was 18 to 24 inches of snow, enough to make people start buying generators and “getting ahead of it.” Then it was thirty inches, which sent eve...

4 likes

The Shape of Wanting

Megan Cianfaglione

Submitted to Contest #337

It started like any other summer night: crickets chirping in the tall grass, the day’s heat softening into something breathable, the faint smell of woodsmoke drifting through the air. We sat side by side on the concrete steps that sloped down toward the river, pretending this was just another night—another shared drink, another laugh that lingered a little too long.But I had been waiting for something. I just didn’t know what yet.There was a quiet electricity between us, threaded through glances and accidental touches, through the way time s...

16 likes

Ready to be Served

Megan Cianfaglione

Submitted to Contest #333

The sound of boiling water hitting the flames jolted me into action as I whipped my head around and lunged for the dial to lower the temperature. Where was the box of pasta? I found the dark blue spaghetti box on the marble counter. I grabbed salt, threw it into the boiling water, and dumped the pasta in, trying not to splash. Then I refocused on cutting basil.I moved through the kitchen on instinct, every motion practiced and quiet. The knives were already laid out in order of use, their handles aligned just so. Natalia liked things precise...

9 likes

All Parties Served and Consumed

Megan Cianfaglione

Submitted to Contest #333

My empty plate sat in front of me, as clean as a bone. I always finished my food too quickly, and my mother warned me about it. You’ll choke, she used to yell.As I sit here and think back to those moments at the dinner table, I wouldn’t mind choking to death around these people—snotty, unbearable, nepo babies. Meanwhile, I worked my ass off to get where I am today. I didn’t have mommy and daddy to bribe someone into passing me the bar exam or get me into law school for free. My eyes were fixed on my red wine when Barbara started clinking her...

5 likes

Blood Slushy

Megan Cianfaglione

Submitted to Contest #331

Snowflakes glittered in the moonlight as they floated to the ground. My breath fogged the windowpane as I gazed out at the freshly fallen snow—no traces of humans or animals on the powder. Snow was forecast for the next hour, and we were expecting 7 inches total. I sighed as I backed away from the window and collapsed on the bed. It was nearing midnight, and my thoughts had begun to spiral. One thought blended into another, crashing together until there was nothing but a blizzard within my brain. Soon, exhaustion took me away to sleep. Whoos...

6 likes

Summer Ghosts

Megan Cianfaglione

Submitted to Contest #328

The lake town looks exactly the same, which feels impossible. The same sun-bleached docks. The same cicada buzz. The same endless shimmer of heat over the water. Even the same red canoe, gently rocking against its rope as if someone left it tied up yesterday.She expects the memories to hit all at once—the laughter, the sunburns, the taste of metal from the old water pump. But instead there’s a hollowness, like the town is waiting for her to start remembering before it exhales. Even the air feels heavy, thick with damp heat and something she ...

4 likes

Peripheral

Megan Cianfaglione

Submitted to Contest #325

The doctor told him there would be floaters.“Just the brain adjusting,” she said, sliding the neural interface into its sterile case. “Your mind’s relearning how to see again. The peripheral distortions will fade.”Elliot nodded, though the word floaters felt wrong. They didn’t float. They crawled.The first one appeared three nights after the surgery. A glimmer in the corner of his eye while he brushed his teeth. It was a small, translucent thing like a spider made of glass. When he turned his head, it vanished. When he looked back, the air s...

12 likes

The Weight of Water

Megan Cianfaglione

Submitted to Contest #324

The sea was calm that morning, with whitecaps emerging in the distance. The horizon stretched endlessly in all directions, cold and relentless. Gray sky met gray water, and somewhere in between was my lifeboat, half-swallowed by waves. Despite the motionless oars and the salt-crusted handles, I refused to give in. My hands, blistered, bled, and went numb, but I persisted. I tried to count time by the sun's movements, but even that rhythm eventually felt off. Some days, the light never came at all.There’s a special kind of peace you make with...

20 likes

Hollow Fire

Megan Cianfaglione

Submitted to Contest #320

INCIDENT REPORT Agency: U.S. Forest Service – Region 1 Incident Name: Pine Hollow Forest Fire Incident Number: MT-2025-0917 Date/Time of Initial Report: September 17, 2025 – 18:42 hrs Location: Grid 7-B, Pine Hollow, Lewis and Clark National Forest Cause: Under Investigation Units Dispatched: Engine 42, Brush 16 Status: Personnel unaccounted for.Smoke rose through the tree line, contrasting against the orange hue behind it. The two-tone howl cut through the evening air, rising and falling in that practiced rhythm that meant only one thing — ...

9 likes

How to Bake a Heart

Megan Cianfaglione

Submitted to Contest #306

Intro:They say grief transforms us into monsters.But before we dive in, a little backstory—every good recipe needs one, and you’ll want to understand where it all unraveled. He wasn’t the first man to steal my heart. Just the last one I allowed in long enough to rot me from within. He spoke of "forever” with lips stained by someone else’s kiss. He brought me flowers when I detested that kind of bloom. He abandoned me in January, a cliché biting through the cold. Yet, here I am, ready to pick gravel from my knees to return to the night he wh...

9 likes

Secrets Beneath the Lake

Megan Cianfaglione

Submitted to Contest #306

My toes splashed in the water as I dangled my legs over the edge of the canoe.“Wanna hit?” I offered Colin the joint between my fingers.He took a drag, then flicked it silently into the lake. Smoke drifted past my face as I smiled, the sun warming my skin. Birds chirped in the trees, and the soft lapping of water against the canoe relaxed me.I glanced over at Colin paddling. With his spiky hair and tattoos, he looked like he belonged in a punk band—but he was one of the kindest people I knew.He caught me looking and smirked. I turned away qu...

2 likes

Beneath the dust

Megan Cianfaglione

Submitted to Contest #300

Cowboy boots crunched on the desert ground, creating a cloud of dirt. Saguaro cacti rose high to the blistering sun above, their spines protruding from their arms. Closer to the ground, prickly pear cacti pads give life to ruby fruits and barrel cacti loomed dangerously close. Heat rose from the ground creating distorted ripples through the eyes of brave passersby. The desert was a barren place, birds hid in scabs of cacti while the fiercer animals reserved their energy for night. Beneath the cracked surface, something stirred. It felt as th...

10 likes

Life in the Fast Lane

Megan Cianfaglione

Submitted to Contest #299

There’s something about working at a quick lube that feels like being trapped in a sitcom. The characters are there, the drama unfolds, and you’re just trying to get through the shift without another annoying customer or meltdown from a coworker.Take my manager, Greg, for example. He’s got this bipolar energy that shifts on a dime. One minute he's cracking jokes, and the next minute he’s having an existential crisis over a car lining up in the wrong bay. You can never predict it, and sometimes, it’s better to just avoid him altogether.Greg’s...

5 likes

Midnight Snack

Megan Cianfaglione

Submitted to Contest #299

A gentle breeze ruffled the curtains in Sammy’s room. Her blue eyes fluttered open as the chill crept over her. Moonlight cast eerie shadows across her room. Something felt off. She slid from under the covers and ran across the icy wood floor to close the window. She peered out into the backyard. Even the pale glow from the moon wasn’t enough to keep the darkness from pressing in on her, watching her. It was too quiet. Her heart raced as she saw something moving. She ran back to bed, pulling the covers over her head. She knew from horror mo...

7 likes

Author bio

Megan Cianfaglione is a fiction and nonfiction author based in Nashville, Tennessee. With a passion for writing that began in elementary school, when she first earned accolades for her creative stories, she has since honed a unique voice that blends suspense, humor, and keen observations of human experience.
Her work spans across genres, including horror, romance, and real-life narratives, all united by a deep exploration of themes that resonate in day-to-day life. Whether she’s weaving chilling tales that leave readers on edge, or creating heartfelt stories that explore love, loss, and everything in between, Megan's writing is known for its mix of tension and wit, always leaving readers both entertained and reflective.
When she's not writing, Megan draws inspiration from everyday life and the people around her. From unexpected adventures to the nuances of daily life, she finds that her diverse experiences continue to fuel her creativity.