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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Dec, 2021
Submitted to Contest #339
Yesterday’s storm had left metre deep snowdrifts on the pavements throughout the city, but today’s whisper of snowflakes in the air created a cleansing freshness to each breath Elena took in. Without thinking the girl stopped where she was, at the pedestrian entrance to the park, closed her eyes and bathed in the simplicity of the clean air and the wondrous feeling of the flakes as they melted tenderly on her cheeks. Taking the first steps towards her home and making sure she could not be seen she lifted the remains of a freshly baked loaf t...
Submitted to Contest #212
Would you help me? Emma Barrat’s study in the Welsh Valleys Friday 20 July 2012 8.47 am (Emma goes to her laptop and she checks her inbox.) What an awful start to the day. Checking my emails and yet another day with no orders coming in and that one same message from a scammer. “Would you help me?” Damn, obviously too early on the morning for my brain to function properly and I’ve opened it in error instead of deleting the nonsense. I may as well find out what today’s con is all about. Sender : jblc@hotmail.com To: Emma.barrat@b...
Submitted to Contest #205
Six thirty on the dot. Frank Headley is trying hard to concentrate as he puts his dressing gown on and shuffles downstairs. A few days ago, he misjudged the last step, slipped and banged his head against the hallway door, a lesson learned. At the bottom of the stairs, their old grandfather clock clonks away the time, a double chime the for half hour; six thirty. For the last thirty years the clock has been a constant companion. He extracts a newspaper from the jaws of the letterbox and glances at the headlines, front and back pages, before h...
Submitted to Contest #123
A bridge too far “Oh hell, no, no, please no,” her inner voice screams; however, she hears herself saying: “Of course, no problem, give me a few seconds to sort myself out.” But it is a problem. She had spotted him making his way up to the stage and was uncertain of what to make of him. He was unsteady on his feet, needing to rest his hand on a chair once or twice to steady himself; she assumed he’d been drinking but was not yet drunk – the worst kind. There were actually more than one problem to deal with; the bitter tang of cheap whisky ...
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