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Paul Littler

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Oct, 2023

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23 Followers
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27 Stories

560 karma pts

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Run!

Weekly Contest #235

2026 It was a nice neighbourhood until the election; then, like the rest of the country, it went to hell. Elizabeth, from her loft space, watched the crosses burning in her neighbours front yards. RUSP police stood guard as hooded Klan members, probably the same white guys from the Regional Committee of Governance, set cars alight on driveways, kicked down doors and dragged whoever had been dumb enough, too proud or too poor to stay. She watched Mrs Washington struggling, screaming at her attackers, dragged her by her hair across her lawn wh...

11 likes 2 comments 2
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Friday’s Child

Weekly Contest #234

Today Jason had missed Mum’s funeral on account of the murders. Time was his greatest loss over the last thirty years, he decided, sitting on the bed in his cell. Add another loss, now Mum was dead. He looked at the clock on his shelf and wished he could turn back time. Again his parole eligibility date had come up, attracting the usual press ranting and raving. Previous applications had failed three times, so he’d been wary, not raising his hopes; but his new solicitor, Zena Foyle, had persuaded him to apply. He’d been honest with th...

10 likes 2 comments 2
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The Last Voyage

Weekly Contest #232

Please be aware, this story contains adult themes. Constance at her table, stared out of the window of the ship, the wake the only thing visible in the darkness. Lost in thought, she listened with half an ear to the conversation at the table next to hers. “Here’s to us! Tom and Jack” said one of the men. His partner was clearly not as keen on yet another toast, the fourth Constance was aware of throughout the meal, “Dinner was good,” Jack replied, trying to divert the conversation. Tom nodded his head in agreement, looking to his left at ...

8 likes 0 comments 0
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Singing Bells

Weekly Contest #231

Singing Bells Paul Littler Bernhard’s eyes opened, or at least he thought they did, as he could see nothing. Am I blind, he wondered, did my fall from the horse rob me of my sight? He tried to lift his head and cracked his forehead on a wooden surface only inches from his nose. He could smell something familiar; resinous wood, pine at a guess? And something else, dirt, soil, earth? Bernhard tried lifting his hands but they too were stopped by a wooden barrier, as were his legs as he bent his knees. He kicked to the side and there too...

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Toxic

“Faye’s raving about the starter,” said Andy, dumping a stack of plates into the sink. “I was just about to strain the potatoes in there,” Emma wailed, “Just go and get some more wine.” She was stressed. Out of the blue Andy wants a dinner party for his new boss, Faye, and her husband, Ed. Emma disliked Faye the moment she met her three months ago. All tits and teeth, tall and attractive with long auburn hair and unshakeable self-confidence; one of those high achievers who turns on the charm to get her way, using her six inch heels to s...

1 like 2 comments 2
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Winter’s Edge

Weekly Contest #227

Please be aware, this story contains references to themes including addiction, violence, threats to children and suicide. Sam’s eyes flickered momentarily then closed again. Minutes passed before she stirred in her car seat, eyes slowly opening, confused. Snow was falling, big heavy flakes tumbling from a pewter coloured sky. “Pretty,” she whispered as her car bonnet turned from red to a soft white. Her head hurt, as did her neck and shoulders. Sam’s hands and feet felt cold, and she was aware of being restrained by the seat belt. Gro...

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The Tin Horse

Weekly Contest #226

Archie Button desired just two things in life; having what he wanted then wanting what he had. It was the latter bothering him outside the filthy window of a rundown junk shop, draped in dust coated cobwebs and stuffed with piles of faded newspapers, battered furniture and sad looking, worn-out toys. “You already have too much junk” Linda, his wife, reminded him. If he wanted more, he’d have to make space by getting rid of some of the tat littering what he referred to as his ‘workshop’. Archie loved his workshop, a garden shed with a fra...

11 likes 7 comments 7
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Killer Mirror

Weekly Contest #225

“I’m a huge fan!” “I get that a lot.” Eunice was shivering inside her large fur coat, eyebrow raised, watching Barry drop his pen. “It’s cold in here,” he said, “I expected something more, you know, glamorous…” Eunice smiled behind her oversized sunglasses, “Yeah, well, welcome to showbiz.” The studio for weekly music show ‘Jamboree’ occupied the hollowed-out space of a frosty Victorian church in north London. 1967 was both the best and worst year for ‘Jamboree’ and what happened to The Freeway Girls during the live performance of ‘Kil...

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itch

Weekly Contest #224

As the helicopter circled the island on its second approach Astrid placed her phone face down on her lap. Too many uploaded videos of people erupting in a painful spiky death, spines tearing through bruised swollen skin. She must have watched hundreds as the pandemic raged, death rate soaring. “If I can’t land this time we’ll have to try tomorrow,” the pilot yelled over the rotors’ noise the storm buffeting them like a leaf. “We don’t have time!” Astrid shouted back, “I need to understand what’s happening here.” Touching down in the g...

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I Now Know

Weekly Contest #222

I NOW KNOW PAUL LITTLER Carsten stepped ashore at Alesund. The sun was already low in the sky, a late November afternoon and the air felt chilled. It was good to finally find Honore, so close he could almost feel her, so close his slow heart beat faster as he thought about tearing her to pieces. The hotel receptionist smiled a practiced smile at the thin, pale skinned man with a German accent, “Room 111, first floor, turn left, the lift is just off from the lobby.” Carsten took off his sunglasses and gave the young man a brief glance w...

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Aim High

Weekly Contest #221

*Please note, this story contains adult themes including child death and suicide, please be aware “What is that damn noise?” Council Leader Clive Peters growled to no one. He was the only one in County Hall if you didn’t count the cleaners and Clive Peters didn’t. Jumping up from his desk and leaning through the open door he could still hear it, coming from the main staircase. Voices? Sounds like a kid, maybe? Whoever it was he’d give them something to moan about. He went back to his desk, admiring the paperwork spread in front of him...

19 likes 7 comments 7
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Cell Thirteen

Weekly Contest #219

Cell thirteen Bob blew out his cheeks as he climbed the prison stairs for what felt like the hundredth time that day. There was that noise again! Like something heavy was being rolled around. He’d only been volunteering for a week (mornings Tuesday and Wednesday, afternoons Friday as he had bowls that morning and liked to keep his hand in). “This’ll keep me fit at least”, he grumbled to himself, stopping on Landing B for a breather, wondering where the noise was coming from? The community trust now running the former Newport prison as...

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