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Peter Whitney

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Dec, 2025

Stories (10)

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Library

17 Followers

5 Following

10 Stories

151 karma pts

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Reflections Of A Ghost and Me

Submitted to Contest #341

I ran into a ghost on the river. I set out fishing like my old man taught me. The trees swayed, some mosquitos buzzed near the water, and I saw a small boy like he was straight out of the 60s in the reflection of the water as it rippled. He couldn’t have been older than ten, but he also couldn't be seen with my own eyes plainly. I could tell he never wanted to be here anyway, and frankly neither did I. The only reason I was here was to clear my head.My grandma had the only clue I was ever going to get about why they are the way they are. Not...

2 likes

Shura

Submitted to Contest #340

[Disclaimer: This story is extremely violent, and has very disturbing themes that are a result of Japanese Ultra-Nationalism.] The Raijin seeks a warrior. Pinstripe emissary walks. Nanjo City. Costco. Gang of one. A boy. Heirloom thirsts. Black glasses up. Gas prices rise like his imperial sun. Jackboots lean. Blue jeans hold a payday.“Red jacket boy.”“Who are you calling boy?”“Cool Yamaha!”“Not for sale.”“You misunderstand! I don’t want you to sell it. Only to ride it.”Glasses glare. Gaunt face. Cruel lips twitch. Fuel nozzle clicks. Slam b...

3 likes

Tossing, Turning, Tea, and Trembling

Submitted to Contest #339

Flames licked the bottom of a cast iron kettle, rising from a collection of branches and two pine logs. Resin cooked off the wood, shooing some savory funk up the flue. The small, round kettle boiled down snow and ice. The mantle held clay pots with earthenware lids, marked in strange chalk glyphs. Flames illuminated the wet, musty, purple rug covering the gypsum hearth. A fearsome black mold that crept out from it to a set of oak chairs, where the host and guest sat.A doe slowly straightened her long neck in a wooden chair breathing rhythmi...

5 likes

The Facsimile of the Silver Key

Submitted to Contest #338

CW: Mental health, Physical violence, gore or abuse My dear nephew, This letter carries my innumerable errors but confesses to one. I ask you to absolve me of my arrogance by burning this, the book, and my body. Take custody of the package, never open it, and ensure it never leaves your possession. My travels concluded this must come to pass. I curse and credit the elusive Jared Porter simultaneously, for his ilk would never have alerted me to what the cosmos had in store for us all. He was a learned vagabond, granted modest scholarships fro...

8 likes

The Labors of John Serewitz

Submitted to Contest #337

John Serewitz was ready to make his labors of love but found his boss in his office space. “John! Was just looking for you. You remember Nathan Little?” “No,” His body was like a Byzantine portrait of a corporate man. “This should help!” his boss presented Nathan’s badge. John looked at the lustering badge, squinting at the sandy brown hair and gaunt face. “He’s got a laptop with confidential information. We need that with his signed termination agreement. Go check his old cubicle near the break room.” When given a bizarre order, John remain...

3 likes

Daniel_Carver_Suit_901_5_28_2036.wav

Submitted to Contest #336

[Disclaimer: Contains themes that may be considered violent, disturbing, and/or dark in nature.] “Eric. … … Eric … … Eric! … What the hell are you doing?”“I am planting seeds for civilization.”“Fuck’s sake… What?!”“I said: I’m planting the seeds for civilization.”“You’re going to have to wait.”“That’s a praise of death.”“You’re getting radiation poisoning and wasting oxygen. That’s looking to die.”“I'm looking to reforge life.”“Your pretentious nonsense is driving everyone nuts. We don’t have time and you’re wasting oxygen. Get the back in h...

15 likes

Dream Log

Submitted to Contest #335

Dream ending on 6:25 AM, Monday, November 3rd, 1997I was in a pool with my mother and we went exploring in a deep changing room that ended up being more pools or green water. The water felt warm to the touch, like a tepid bath. Mom kept asking to leave and we just kept getting lost trying to find a way out. There were slides, pool toys, and things scattered around. Most of the toys looked like little cuttlefish or things with tentacles that didn’t exist in real life. The room was not lit well, but there was a source of light somewhere at the...

19 likes

Wilfredo's Wonderland

Submitted to Contest #334

Once upon a time, not too distant in the past, in a land far, far away, yet not unfamiliar to our own, an overworked compliance analyst bore witness to the heavy, sidewinding snow decorating the pitch-black sky to encase eight cars scattered across The FourPoint Investments office park, trapping her in an loop of unhappily ever afters for an hour too long... Chandel was situated in a black blazer, matching colored midi skirt, thick leggings, and ruffled white shirt. A long coat fell to the crimson tufted rug at her side. She falsely earned a...

7 likes

Overpriced Ingredients, Same Results

Submitted to Contest #333

“An’ don’t g’back heeuh til yuh goddit all. Take yuh sistuh w’chyuh.” Nadine slammed the door and went to doll up more. The autumn air complimented the freedom Valentino earned. Antonia was at his side with her arms crossed, looking slightly down at him. He held the map to his memories closely.“She didn’t lemme change,” small splats of pomodoro base danced on the front of her long sleeve shirt and jeans.“Quit whining,” he focused the cursive stating: butter, parmesan, mozzarella, heavy cream, milk, bay leaf, parsley, sage, olive oil, lasagna...

6 likes

I never slept well when there was a storm.

Submitted to Contest #332

[Disclaimer: Contains themes that may be considered violent, disturbing, and/or dark in nature.] “Fine, I’ll say this one. You should know. Got my coffee now, too.“Was at that clam shack at Scarborough with family. Was ten years old. Were outside at a spool table. Just like the photo on the way up here that you hung up.“Grampa was across me, petting the twins’ brown hair. Happy crows feet. Arms had cancer scabs.“Twins, Mark and Jen, were five years old. Wearing GAP outfits, like they did on that boat. “Pop and Mum were at the right and left ...

5 likes