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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Oct, 2025
Sonny and I were back at Paddington station after spending the day together, smiling as we faced each other by the ticket barriers. He’d taken both my hands in his, swinging them lightly with a familiarity that I didn’t know we had but didn’t reject. We had only met for the first time today– how could we be so at ease? More terrifyingly, why was I no longer rejecting it? He had been relentless with physical contact: the hand holding, the slight bumps as we walked down the streets, the reassuring pats and squeezes on my shoulder, arms, and ...
Submitted to Contest #329
A few weekends after, Hamu asked to meet me in London and I said yes. I had no reason to deny him, plus denying him would have made him question me: “Why not? Don’t you want to meet?” and that might open a can of worms that I did not want to answer. You can always just say, no– I don’t want to. But why? Why would I not want to? Sometimes you can just…not want to do things. But why would I not want to meet Hamu? We were good friends, were we not? Friends should meet each other right? Is it because I am hung up on Will? Clearly not because I...
Submitted to Contest #328
That night, after sobering up, showering and crawling into bed– I found myself thinking about Hamu. But not just Hamu the person, no, no. I wanted to understand the flutter I felt when I read his messages. The way my heart lurched while he was still typing. I wanted– no, needed to know where it came from. I needed to know if it meant something, if it meant anything. If that was all it took to win me over. I wanted to know if Hamu wanted me. And if I wanted him too. It would be nice, wouldn’t it? To be wanted by someone like Hamu. Hamu wa...
Submitted to Contest #327
I was incredibly cold to Kevin after our conversation. I fumed and brooded over his statement: ‘I didn’t think that someone like you would have a boyfriend.’ What did he mean by that? It was 5:45pm on a Thursday afternoon when I marched up to John’s desk in the office to ask, “John– am I ugly?” John hadn't even had a chance to look up from packing his things for the end of the day; when he faced me, his face was scrunched, recoiling from my question, “What? Why? No!” “You sure? ‘Cause I think someone just called me ugly?” John looked positiv...
Submitted to Contest #326
My demon has refused to let go of the conversation we first had with Kevin. It had been a week since he’d joined the office and my little demon kept picking on him, and everything he did. I tried repeatedly to ignore my demon’s voice; telling it that if it wasn’t going to be nice, I wasn’t going to listen to a single word it had to say. It whinged and whined at the most inconvenient times, mostly when I was interacting with Kevin. But he’s so STRANGE. Like, what is he even DOING?! I could feel my eyes narrow as I watched Kevin struggle wit...
It was only 4:45pm but the sun was already setting. I daydreamed about getting up and leaving the office as I looked out of the windows. Maybe I’ll take the longer route home today and walk by the canal; it always cheers me up and I get my steps in. But…it’s also Thursday. I was waiting for Kevin to finish reading through his notes to go through today’s task and briefings. We’d made good progress today, running through the project brief and requirements and the office filing systems. Now, we were wrapping up for the day, reviewing tasks for ...
Submitted to Contest #323
Content Warning: This story contains themes of alcohol misuse, sexual boundary violation, self-harm, emotional abuse and intrusive thoughts. I was breathless by the time I reached the top of the staircase onto the main road from the pub-slash-restaurant that I once again swore I would never visit again. My heart pounded—maybe from the nicotine, maybe from the drink, maybe from fear. I couldn’t tell. I looked behind me once more to check if I was being followed. Whatever happened, happened too fast, too soon and was too much. But, no—Josh ha...
Submitted to Contest #322
Content Warning: This story contains themes of unwanted advances and emotional discomfort. I made my way down the dingy steps into the basement pub-slash-restaurant that I always swear I’ll never visit again. The lights were always too harsh. The music was always far too loud with too many people cheering at the four different sports that always seemed to be on. There were always too many people. Too many of the wrong sort of people. People who were looking to talk at me. People who were looking to talk about themselves. But it was the same ...
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