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Miles Bonilla

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jun, 2025

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Ashen Echoes

Weekly Contest #319

“What the…?”Cold. All I can feel is cold. My ears ringing, I can faintly make out a hissing noise and blaring alarm.I can’t scent anything. It hurts to even try. Then, as I begin to feel my paws, the machine I’m locked inside of opens, and I tumble outward.The ringing slowly subsides, though the sound that replaces it isn’t much better.“CRITICAL CRYOGENIC MALFUNCTION. PLEASE EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY.”This phrase plays on loop with the alarm in the background.To a cat like me, it’s kinda painful on the ears, and quite annoying, might I add.How do...

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how?

“Don’t mind me.”“Excuse me.”“Mind if I get by?” I have to say this again and again. I hate places with this many people. So crowded and hard to move. It makes me feel nauseous. It makes me want to curl up and hide. Get us out, my mind seems to scream. Get us out of this horrid, wretched place.No, I say to my mind. All I’m here for is some bread and some cheese and some meat. That’s it. It won’t take long. Newsflashes appear on the screens all around, parading the brilliance and salvation from some random hero. There’s a new super person ever...

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b

“Yes, I did want to talk. Wanna come inside?” “Of course! You’re still so polite, just like I remember you. You haven’t changed... not even a bit.” I open up the door and show her inside. I sprint upstairs and open my bedroom door, freeing the dog from his prison, and he bolts down the stairs to greet our visitor. She welcomes him with open arms. “Oh, I missed you too! Good boy! Want a treat? Here you go!” “I’m astounded he remembers you after two years. Then again, you always did shower him in desserts,” I say, as she delivers my dog’s sixt...

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A

“Can you keep a secret?” I say to my reflection. I have a thing that I want to tell someone. But I can’t figure out the best way to do so. “Hmm, how’s about… ‘I’m gonna let you in on this, and you can’t tell.’ Or… ‘Can you promise, if I share something with you, you won’t tell anyone?’” Hmmm… None. Nothing sounds right. Nothing sounds quite like I want it to. I need to get this correct. Or I have… problems. To deal with. Which I do not want to be dealing with at the moment. At all. Not only do I not want to, I can't. I just can’t. No, wait. ...

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broken car

The cold, dark moonlight just barely passes through my window. The moon is full and at its highest point, which is why I have the lights on. My car is broken, and I need to fix it. So I’m up at… what is it… one in the morning? I would never go to an auto repair place, oh, no. I don’t trust most anyone with most anything. I only would let a few people help me.…the problem is, those people have normal, sensible sleep schedules. Which I hate. Despise it to my bones. ‘We can’t help you, we need nine hours of sleep and four cups of coffee…’ Pat...

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mistakes were made in the writing of this recollection

Now, here’s the thing. I’ve robbed a bank. Well, not actually. See… I was outside of the bank when it was robbed, on a corner of the street that was otherwise empty. The one robber happened to have the same hoodie as me. I was about to comment on this when a loud explosion sounded from around the corner as he turned toward me. He was shielding his head. Without breaking a sweat, he suddenly thrust a large sack into my chest. Then he ran right by me. Right by. So, because I wore a gray Dodgers World Series hoodie and because I was standing on...

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Exhaustion and magic writing, evidently

Oh, how Sean would like to sleep. He spent every day, and really most nights, writing and writing. But no one read his works. Except for a certain twelve people whose names Sean could have sworn he had written into his books. He was writing a passage where his character was in the same room as he was now, changing the paintings around. Sean did not notice that the paintings around him were moving. He also did not notice that some were backwards, upside down, or near imperceptibly crooked. He would have loved to sleep. But he did not get his...

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Familiar Strangers

“Have we met before?” Tom kept asking this question. Over, and over. He was at a party, and everyone seemed familiar, but not, and when he asked this question, the answer was unchangeably ‘no.’ Every single time. Yet Tom was becoming certain he’d seen these people before. But where? He tried to think. Maybe on the streets? He brought up visions of all the times in his close memory he’d been walking down the street, but he couldn’t remember any of these faces. After all, the man who’d invited Tom had said explicitly that most of the guests w...

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The Quest To Find Bucket

Bob was excited, for today would be the day that he began his glorious adventure. Alongside Jim, of course, his best friend. He was woken up by Jim himself and given the quest to collect his sword. Jim reminded Bob that he had deposited his sword with the blacksmith for tempering the previous day. So Bob, feeling he was being moved around by some mysterious external force, left for the blacksmith. He arrived by going left, right, up, left, down, right, right and left, and was able to claim his sword. There was a priest nearby, shouting nonse...

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