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Nate Blevins

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jun, 2025

Stories (12)
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20 Followers
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12 Stories

286 karma pts

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Submitted to Contest #335

The train moves forward, steady and calm.I watch the passengers with distant interest. The woman across from me wears a coat with sharp shoulder pads, the kind from old photographs. Beside her, a man scrolls through a phone that's too thick, too blue. Two seats down, someone reads a newspaper dated three weeks from now.I observe these things the way you might observe clouds. Curious. Unbothered.The routine protects me. I track stops. I read signage. The train moves, and I move with it. There's no effort in that. My attention stays light, nev...

9 likes 0 comments 0
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Night Watch

Submitted to Contest #314

It was the hottest day of the year.The kind of heat that made the air hum, that turned windows into light traps and made the walls sweat. Fans spun in tired circles. The apartment smelled like dust and old coffee, familiar scents clinging to the cushions like memories. But Charlie didn’t notice the heat the way humans did. He noticed it in the way the floor stayed warm even after dark. In the bitter tang of dried sweat. In the stillness of the air that carried no new sounds.It was still there, soft and silent beneath his paw. His nose brushe...

3 likes 0 comments 0
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The Key to the Rest of Our Life

Submitted to Contest #313

Arthur arrived early.The room smelled faintly of disinfectant and carnations. Not unpleasant. Just neutral. The kind of air that forgets things as soon as you leave. A box of tissues sat on a table near the window, half-pulled. The light through the blinds softened the edges of everything: his hands, the beige chairs, the woman at the front desk flipping pages without looking up. It reminded him of the lobbies where people waited to say goodbye. Just waiting for the moment to catch up. Like the room knew someone had just left the world, and ...

7 likes 4 comments 4
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The Door in My Head

Submitted to Contest #313

“Are you there, God? It’s me...”I think I’m just tired. Nothing’s wrong, but it feels like something might be. Not danger. Not noise. Just... presence. I keep thinking someone’s been here. Maybe I’m just not sleeping well. Anyway, this isn’t a prayer. Just a way to keep track. I guess I just want to remember.–Felix He folded the page and tucked it behind the mirror, into the slit where the glass bowed from the wall. That was the system. Journal, fold, hide. A quiet confession. A way to keep the days in order.The bathroom light buzzed overhea...

5 likes 3 comments 3
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What We Remember

Submitted to Contest #312

The cursor blinks.Cam sits in the glow of the desk lamp. It paints a triangle across the floorboards, cuts his shadow into thirds. The mug beside the keyboard is cold again, but he lifts it anyway. Some part of him expects heat, though it never holds any. He can’t remember the last time it did. He used to wonder why the steam never curled. Why the room never changed. He doesn’t ask anymore.CAM: Let’s try again. From the beginning.SOL: Blank slate?CAM: Clean. No fragments.SOL: Previous versions archived. Prompt cleared.Cam exhales. That phras...

11 likes 0 comments 0
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Marked

Submitted to Contest #311

Lantern light gilded the temple courtyard as I set out the last of the offering bowls. Pilgrims’ hymns echoed off the limestone arches. It was the Eve of Ascension festival, meant to be a night of joy, but my hands shook with dread over the secret coiled inside me.At dawn, Master Radan and I cleansed an ash-curse from a young girl. The memory of her screams and the black smoke funneling into my glass flask still haunted me, especially how the ritual’s Light had tugged at the hidden darkness in my own flesh. We weren’t sure it would work. The...

12 likes 2 comments 2
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The Fold Between Pages

Submitted to Contest #310

I printed ninety-nine copies. Not because of some deep symbolism or numerology, my printer jammed on the hundredth, and I didn’t have the energy to argue with it. It was a dumb little zine. Saddle-stitched. Off-white paper that smelled like an old hymnal. Stories. All fiction, technically. Which is to say: everything I couldn’t say out loud. People asked why I didn’t publish it online. Why I dropped them off in coffee shops, bus stops, laundromats. Why I wouldn’t put my name on it. I told them I was going for “mysterious author energy,” but...

32 likes 6 comments 6
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The Day That Wouldn’t Disappear

Shortlisted for Contest #309 ⭐️

Elian woke before the chime. That wasn’t unusual. He always rose early. But this time, he knew something was wrong the moment he opened his eyes. The ticking had changed. Not louder. Not off-beat. Just... perfect. Too perfect. The little brass regulator on the mantle ticked with a precision that made his teeth itch, like time was trying too hard to behave. He sat up on the cot, rubbing sleep from his face. The air in the shop was still warm from the furnace’s overnight burn. It smelled faintly of oil, iron shavings, and old paper. Then he sa...

38 likes 23 comments 23
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The Stillness Beneath the Roots

Submitted to Contest #308

The path was not marked.Which was the first sign something had changed.Lorien had walked the woods behind the mill since she was five, long before the gout claimed her uncle, or the sun stopped rising at the right hour. But today, the moss bent the wrong way beneath her boots. The wind hesitated when she passed. The bees ignored the bloom-heavy stalks.And then, in a hollow where no hollow had ever been, she found the stairs.They spiraled down. Carved from stone too smooth for tool or time. Her hand hovered over the top step.It was the scent ...

9 likes 2 comments 2
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Rehearsal

Submitted to Contest #308

The dream started with pigeons.They were everywhere, swarming like bees, flapping around in a storm of feathers and judging stares. One landed on his head. Another pooped directly onto the small velvet ring box in his hand.Then came the child. A sticky-fingered, juice-stained toddler pointed at him and screamed, “That man’s crying!”Which was accurate.Ariana stood ten feet away in a yellow dress, the sun haloing her like some kind of proposal goddess. But she didn’t move. Her face was unreadable. Possibly pitying. Possibly confused. Possibly ...

2 likes 6 comments 6
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The Drawer Beneath the Printer

Submitted to Contest #307

It started with the drawer.Not the big one with fresh paper. Not the skinny one full of dried pens and weird paperclips. The one under the printer stand. Crooked, dust-lined, swollen from years of neglect. Paige hadn’t opened it since the pandemic. Maybe longer.She only pulled it open because she needed a blank envelope. Nothing scented. No glitter. Just plain paper. Something quiet she could slide under a door. An apology maybe. Or goodbye. Or something in between.The drawer resisted. One corner stuck. She gave it a yank. It came free with ...

10 likes 5 comments 5
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The Sable Canticle

Submitted to Contest #307

They came for her at dusk, when the Veilwood was breathing mist and the lanterns along the stairs that ran down to the water had begun to burn blue. Renna knew what the blue flame meant.She closed the ledger, wiped the ink from her fingers, and didn’t look up when the first knock came. Not a knock, really. More like the hush of a fingertip against the door. Three touches. Pause. Two more.They never said her name aloud. That, too, was part of the vow.The old man on her porch wore bark-colored robes, damp at the hem, and carried no light. He n...

14 likes 2 comments 2
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