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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Apr, 2021
Weekly Contest #343
They call it the basement, but to me, it is our sanctuary. The air here is heavy with him—old paper, stale tea, and the deep, earthy salt of his skin. While she moves like a ghost on the floorboards above, we are anchored here, below the surface.Our routine is a silent, comfortable choreography. David click-clacks away at his desk. I take position on the futon on the far wall. It’s lumpy and smells of dust, but it offers a direct line of sight to him. I spend my days here, half-dozing to the low murmur of the television, half-watching him hu...
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