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Miri Liadon

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Sep, 2025

Stories (11)

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2 Followers

6 Following

11 Stories

14 karma pts

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The Cock Crew, and Mourning Came

Miri Liadon

Ammon cried. Hendrix could feel his grief. It mingled with his own. Ammon had lost his parents and his sister. Hendrix had lost some of his closest friends. There was only one thing to do. He inhaled, and began to tell a story. The story began with a poem. The First Story “The sun rises and the moon fades The soft dreams of the evening are replaced By the harsh realities which daylight reveals The calm drowsiness of night turns To the bustle of day And the stars find their hiding place Behind the clouds And beyond the sky We can only hope t...

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The Drunk Rabbit

Miri Liadon

Near the Border of Eritrea, Piammi 60 RB The Drunk Rabbit Inn and Mealhouse was about as old as the owner’s deceased grandfather. He had died as he’d lived, drunk out of his mind.As old as it was, the inn was well-kept. Kuntur had seen to that. He patched the roof when it leaked, oiled the hinges of the doors regularly, and had even managed the finances so well that he dragged his family up out of the debt that had been piling up for generations. All in all, he had things figured out. The only thing he hadn’t quite figured out was that his b...

2 likes

Frozen Burritos

Miri Liadon

Now, there’s not much I hate in this world. In fact, those closest to me may note my tendency to meet obstacles with, (dramatic sigh) “It’s a problem. I’m a problem. Life is a problem, and it sucks. But there’s also butterflies.” and continue on with life. In spite of the sucky nature of life, I do my best to find butterflies in every moment. This is not my point.There are very few things I hate, but I can think of at least one. Now, close your eyes and imagine, if you will, that it is late fall. In the morning, you awoke to snow. For about...

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The Desperate Prayers of a Heretic

Miri Liadon

What do the desperate prayers of a heretic mean to the gods? Just Outside of Eritrea, Bilar 62 RB Oh great Ichel, preserve her. Ammon’s shirt clung to his back, wet with blood. Steady her heart. He walked slowly, legs unsteady. Mend her breath. Pol seemed lifeless in his arms. But she was breathing. She had to be. Blood covered her face. Blood covered her arms, and her neck. There was too much. But she was alive. She had to be.Protect her from Andra’s grasp. Ammon crossed the threshold of the Wallow. Taking care to find an almost dry spo...

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Blueberries

Miri Liadon

Margaret: I hugged my arms as a chilly breeze blew through the air. The mornings were still cold, even though it was almost summer. I quickened my pace. The path to the boarding house was uneven and strewn with rocks. It was a miracle I didn’t roll an ankle. You’d think that with twenty three boys regularly using this path, someone might put some effort into caring for it. You’d be wrong. I rapped on the door. It swung open, revealing the face of a redheaded boy who couldn't have been much older than me. He smiled, “You’re here for that lit...

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Letters 6-10: The Eaglet

Miri Liadon

Dear Buttercup, I'm writing you from a ship that's just left the coast of Iraei. It's called the Eaglet. I don't have the money f I've found work in New Ookry, and although I'm not sure about and I'm hopeful. There’s a lot of good trade down there. There’s also a lot of thieves good company. It’s promising. I've only seen the sea once before. When I was seven, my dad took me. We spent a wole whole day on the beach, playing in the waves and chasing seagulls. That was before he died. He said we'd go. I haven’t been since. You’ve been to the ...

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Hollow Jars: The Pantheon

Miri Liadon

Hey. Look, you don’t want to read my story. I’m no hero. Can’t be sure I’ve ever done a lick of good in my life. I’m not even good with words. You won’t find any epic poetry here. But if you’re staying anyway, you might as well get cozy. All my life, I’ve been described as “angry”. I wasn’t smart like Athena, or hot like Apollo, or protective like Artemis, or helpful like Eileithyia. I was just “The Angry One.” Was I angry? Absolutely. Still am. Sometimes I wonder if I might not be such an angry guy. Sometimes I wonder...

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Dust to Dust: A Tale From Andra

Miri Liadon

- .... . / .-. .. - ..- .- .-.. My heart beat fast in my chest as I tried to steady the shaking of my hands. I wasn’t the first to do this. I wouldn’t be the last. Protect them. I stabbed the knife downward. Cracks split through the tiles of the floor, where it was buried hilt-deep in the Dustone. “I can’t.” My voice was barely a whisper. Tears threatened to fall down my face. My grandfather was right. I’m not strong enough. “What?” “I can’t do it!” I shouted now, the words torn from my throat. My tears finally fell. The dro...

2 likes

Like a Whale

Miri Liadon

Friday Night: Shortly After Round 2 “Dude, aren’t you white?” I stared into his blue eyes as I–very gently–shoved him against the lockers. He stared at me, confused, probably because a near stranger was holding him by the shoulders and had–once again, very gently–shoved him against the locker behind him. “I’m an eighth Canadian…” I tilted my head, “Native or…” I trailed off as he shook his head, “I meant I’m very white.” “You can’t be making racist jokes if you’re white. You shouldn’t be doing that anyway, but especially not if you’re white...

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Dandelions

Miri Liadon

The slightly damp dirt soiled my jeans as I knelt in the flowerbed. It was weeding time. I grabbed low on the stem of a dandelion and tugged in out of the ground. Then I shoved it into the plastic Winco bag. I repeated this many times.I despise dandelions. Always have. The very sight of their white fluff fills me with violent rage. Where others (Naethan) may see the beauty of a wish not yet wished for, I only see a nuisance. A weed. And I hate weeds.Perhaps I’m being too dramatic. I’ve been told that before.That I get carried away.Like tho...

4 likes

I Do Not Know

Miri Liadon

The wishes weren't magic, but I had always hoped there was power in them. Maybe there was. Maybe there was power in the way a human could hurt and hope at the same time. Maybe it was resilience. The way I had to fight to wish, and to hope. Maybe it was love that drove me to wish.I do not know. My first wish was that Arthur would get better. He’d been sick for so long. We knew he was dying. His wood had been burned. The wood that had been connected to his life force since his sixth birthday. Beck and I didn’t know who did it. For all we kn...

2 likes