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Ruth Porritt

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Apr, 2020

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320 Followers
594 Following

29 Stories

1118 karma pts

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Love and hate

Weekly Contest #163

Hello everyone, This story is the sequel to 'Blue Bates bed and breakfast'. (You can find 'Blue Bates bed and breakfast' in my previously published Reedsy contest stories. Thank you.) In this story, 'Love and hate' Weston and Miss Daniels return. Will they fall in love, and can they admit their feelings for each other? Next, can they avoid violent acts, or will they cause mayhem? Last, but not least, this story is dedicated to Liz Redt. Thank you for requesting this sequel. (I hope you enjoy reading it, as much as I enjoyed writing it...

32 likes 10 comments 10
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The Christmas dinner

Weekly Contest #125

Note: This story is a funny, Christmas-themed horror tale. Trigger warning: Self-harm, and mental health. However, these themes are not the primary themes in this tale. Story rating: PG-13 until the end of the story, which I give an 'R'.*****"I honestly don't know what takes you so long, sometimes," said Brian. "It took fifteen minutes for you to put the goose in the oven.""Really?" said Naomi. "You were counting? Don't you have anything better to do?""Why don't you let me help you?" said Brian, as he started to get up from the dining room t...

47 likes 41 comments 41
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Reverend Bartlett

Weekly Contest #122

Important content note: Hello everyone, this story contains my particular mix of horror, humor, and religious elements. Also, there are some sexual elements in this story, and the devil shows up.If any of the aforementioned things are triggering for you, you have my sincerest apologies, and I ask that you find a different story on Reedsy. (I know that there are many good stories on this platform, especially during the holiday season.)Sincerely yours,Ruth*****It was cold and snowy. The wind howled through the parking lot, and the Reverend Bar...

42 likes 22 comments 22
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I was blind, but now I see

Weekly Contest #103

I can hear the ice cubes crack in the glass as I pour myself a large measure of whiskey. I take a moment to savor the sting of the alcohol on my tongue, and press the record button on my handy-dandy tape player. “Barbara Robinson speaking,” I say. “The date is July 9th, 1976, and the time is 9 AM. I glance at the generous measure of scotch I’ve just poured and think: What the hell, it’s 5 o’ clock somewhere. There is a loud knock at the door and I sigh. "Please God," I say. "Don't let it be an asshole." “Why, hello Barbie,” says my ex, Fra...

50 likes 27 comments 27
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Him

Weekly Contest #97

When I first met my husband, I thought: Him. He is the one that I want.We met at an after-school English program in Asia. It was my first day of my new job and I fell in love as soon as the elevator doors opened. He was nothing much to look at--at 23, he was already balding and his stomach was a bit soft--but as George shook my hand and looked directly into my eyes, I just knew. In the beginning of our relationship, it was his confidence that attracted me to him. Also, it didn't hurt one bit that he had a perfect, neatly-clipped British acce...

63 likes 34 comments 34
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Blue Bates' Bed and Breakfast

Weekly Contest #96

The pain was intense. As my driver pulled into the gravel driveway, I adjusted my position and winced. "Is everything alright, Miss Daniels?" said my driver, Weston. "Yes," I said. "I'm fine." Weston sighed. "Very good, miss. What time shall I pick you up tomorrow?" "I'll call you," I said, as I slammed the car door with my good arm. As I carefully made my way up the drive, I saw a white farmhouse with black shutters. I heard the front door slam, and a woman in her sixties jogged up to me and pulled my overnight bag out of my good ha...

39 likes 14 comments 14
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A post-apocalyptic love story

Weekly Contest #81

        When I first met Grant, he was very nearly naked. I was on my daily run around my new home, bored out of my mind, and almost asleep. He was tall, well-muscled, and lean. I thought, for a moment, that I was seeing some sort of hallucination, and I was quite pleased with myself for imagining such a perfect male specimen.“Well done, Emily,” I said.       My Greek god smiled. “Well, now, what do we have here?” he said. His eyes lingered on my chest, and I realized...

38 likes 16 comments 16
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The man on the phone

Weekly Contest #80

I was home by myself, babysitting my annoying sister, Susie. At the time, I hated her because she was everything I wasn’t—cute, (with her blond pig tails and perfect, porcelain doll smile) gregarious, and pint-sized.Again, at the time, (the summer of 1969) I had shot up like my mother’s prize-winning sunflowers, and I remember feeling tall, unattractive, and unwanted. In reality, looking at Kodak shots of myself from this period, I see a 14 year-old girl with long, wavy blonde hair and legs that made me look like Kate Moss. (Heroin-chic, any...

30 likes 11 comments 11
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Top 10 moments from "The most wonderful day of the year"

Weekly Contest #74

Narrator: “Hello everyone, I'm Dame Agnes Cryptson. Welcome to tonight's episode of Winter Theater. Tonight's episode is little-known gem, and is one of my favorites. It's also the perfect antidote to the never-ending stream of Christmas pablum that you'll see on other channels. Also, be sure to savor this original 1978 commercial that aired before the original episode. Have a scary Christmas!” Announcer: (Stayin’ Alive by The Bee Gees plays in the background, and a woman drinks champagne, alone, in her home) “Laura has everything she n...

31 likes 5 comments 5
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The pink carpeting

Weekly Contest #58

“I think it’s time that someone did something,” said Jennifer. (Jen for short.) We were having our weekly prayer and share meeting in Sharon’s living room, and the pale pink carpeting was driving me nuts. It seemed that Sharon (the pastor’s wife) had insisted on pairing the new carpeting with chartreuse sofas. Finally, Sharon had pulled the look together with bright pink and yellow plaid curtains. The curtains were pulled back from with windows with cheap sunflowers from Jen’s arts and crafts store, Sonshine Creations. Anyway, the pink carpe...

38 likes 4 comments 4
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The way of a transgressor

Weekly Contest #43

In 1959, Errol Flynn died of a heart attack, but that’s not the entire truth. I poisoned him, and that was what led to his death.I am now seventy-six years old, and of sound mind and body. If you’re reading this, then I’ve gone to the great beyond, and I give you permission to share this confession with anyone you like. I don’t regret what I did; I only regret that his death was quick and painless.I am beginning to get ahead of myself, but that’s to be expected at my age. I met Errol Flynn in 1958, when I was fifteen years old.Errol Flynn wa...

51 likes 28 comments 28
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The Unusual Suspects

Weekly Contest #41

James West1st recorded interviewJuly/05/2019Time: 9:15 AMDetective Adams: Yes…uh…my name is Detective John Montgomery Adams, and I’m here with my partner, Detective Peter Davidson. This interview is being recorded via video. Detective Davidson and I are located at Glencove Police Station in Glencove Alabama, home of the Glencove Raiders.Detective Davidson: Sir, you don’t need to mention that.Detective Adams: Mention what?Detective Davidson: The Raiders.D. Adams: Why the hell not? Best damn college football team in the state.D. Davidson: (sig...

42 likes 17 comments 17
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I wouldn't marry you if you were the last man on Earth

Weekly Contest #39

“I wouldn’t marry you if you were the last man on Earth!” That was what I said to Lewis, the moment before I threw a drink into his face. We were at Freddie’s Place (in Columbus, Ohio, if you must know) and we were on a blind date. The year was 1945, and Lewis and I were sitting at a big table by the window.Anyway, before the drink-throwing incident, the date hadn’t been going well. Lewis was a handsome fella, (still is) but he kept getting on my nerves.Wait a minute, though, (as Lewis keeps saying to me) I have a tendency to keep getti...

46 likes 11 comments 11
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Mina's Diary

Weekly Contest #36

July 20th, 2019 (Saturday)I sigh, and throw the covers off of my second-hand bed. My body is slick with sweat, and it feels like I can’t breathe. I once read that the best cure for insomnia is to get out of bed and physically go somewhere else. (Easier said than done.) I stumble to the bathroom, turn on the sink, and splash my face with cold water. Glancing in the mirror, I see that one blue vein has popped out of my forehead a bit, but otherwise I don’t look too bad. I jog down the stairs, open the fridge, and select a carton of black cherr...

40 likes 3 comments 3
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