Menu

More apps built by Reedsy

Assemble a team of professionals

The writing app for authors

Writing courses, events and memberships

Get your book reviewed

Weekly writing prompts and contests

Menu
Prompts
Contests
Stories
Blog

Steven Lowe

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Mar, 2025

Stories
Comments
Library
14 Followers
4 Following

27 Stories

217 karma pts

?

THE FINAL BATTLE

The knight awoke slowly as the dim dawning light shone through the stained glass window, illuminating the stark bare stone room in greens and reds and blues. His head ached. He stood unsteadily; a sudden wave of vertigo swept across him and he put out a hand to keep his balance. The interconnected rings of his mail armour rang softly as he straightened up and moved his arms and legs experimentally. Yes, everything still worked. Another day, another day of battle against the Ghost King, always inconclusive, always with a sense of disappointme...

2 likes 0 comments 0
Read story

HUNGER

It’s not easy being a zombie. I should know. Just because you have an insatiable appetite for brains and shamble around and can’t talk properly doesn’t mean you’re stupid. Among us zombies there’s a lot of philosophical debate goes on. Do you think we don’t feel guilty when our urge for human brains overwhelms our sense of what’s right and wrong? Yes, biting a live human tends to add to our numbers, and I can understand why Alives don’t fancy being bitten. But think of it from our perspective. We do remember being alive, you know, and being ...

0 likes 0 comments 0
Read story

THE BLACKOUT

Tuesday, November 9, 1965 – A blackout devastated north-east U.S.A. and parts of Canada. Over 30 million people and 80,000 square miles were left without electricity for hours. She didn’t know his name, even after all these months. All she knew was that he worked on the same floor as she did, but in an office at the opposite end of the hallway from her own, and that they both started work at 9.00 am on the dot and ended at 5.30. So they were often in the elevator together – usually with other people, but occasionally just the two of them. ...

0 likes 0 comments 0
Read story

GHOST STORY

‘So, this is what it’s like to be a ghost,’ he thought. ‘This is what happens when you die. I never knew, but I do now. And I’m apparently a separate thing from my body. Surprising for someone like me. I’d never believed in all that stuff. How embarrassing.’ And another thing – who’d ever have thought a ghost could smile at himself?‘And she finally went and killed me. I wonder how she did it.’ He had no recollection of his death itself, all he knew was that he was dead now. But she must have managed it somehow. It was unexpected, but somehow...

0 likes 0 comments 0
Read story

THE WITCH'S CAT

I’m just trying to explain. If you stand back and look at it rationally, it really wasn’t my fault. A lot of people hate black cats, I don’t know why. We’re not any nastier or stranger than other cats. Mind you, I do enjoy freaking people out by walking across their path. As much fun as watching them walking under a ladder. And being a witch’s familiar is a different level of being a black cat.Anyhow, I need to explain how it all happened, and how it definitely isn’t my fault, despite appearances. Mistress Maganath took on a new witch-in-tra...

0 likes 0 comments 0
Read story

THE GRIFFIN

Yes, I’m a griffin – want to make something of it? Or gryphon if you want to be picky or historical. What am I doing sitting in this bar? Why don’t you mind your own business? I can sit where I like, thank you very much. Yes, I drink beer. No, the beak isn’t a problem. Yes, my wings fold away. Any other stupid questions? What’s it to you, anyway?Oh, you’re a journalist and you need a good story. So what makes you think I’m it? Yes, I’m thousands of years old. So what? I must have seen a lot of interesting things? What if I did? Has it occurr...

0 likes 0 comments 0
Read story

THE RELUCTANT HERO

Weekly Contest #316

Eric Markson was short, plump, shy, middle-aged. He wore thick pebble glasses. He was not athletic or strong. He worked in a small mart a half-hour drive from home. His wife was in many ways similar to Eric. Not a great beauty, but kind and gentle. Even after all these years of marriage he had never really overcome his surprise that such a wonderful woman loved him.It was late at night. His co-worker Dave, young, overconfident and pushy, had again dropped him in it. ‘I have to leave early tonight. You’ll close up, won’t you?’ And Eric had co...

2 likes 0 comments 0
Read story

A NAME FOR THE JOEY

Weekly Contest #313

The rough asphalt scraped against his skin as he skidded across the road, stripping flesh from his elbows and knees. His motorcycle, rotating through the air, crashed into the roadside trees as he finally came to a stop on the ground. He lay there for a minute or two, collecting his thoughts, trying to recover his senses.‘Well, that was certainly interesting,’ he said to himself. ‘What you might call a near-death experience.’ He got up and limped painfully over to the twisted remains of his motorcycle. ‘What a disaster,’ he said. ‘There’s no...

2 likes 0 comments 0
Read story

THE LAWYER'S CONTRACT

The man stood there in the doorway, a slight smile on his face. He seemed amused with the situation. He was tall, thin, the corpse-like pallor of his skin in stark contrast with his dark clothes and dark hair – he seemed to exude an aura of darkness. A touch of beard, and a slight hint of sulphur in the air. Dark-tinted glasses at the end of his nose - a glimpse of pale reptilian eyes over the top of the lenses.‘Are you my contact?’ asked Ericsson.‘Could be,’ replied the stranger. ‘Are you Ericsson?’‘That’s right. Your name?’‘Not important. ...

1 like 0 comments 0
Read story

THE HERO

He’d always been the Fat Kid. The one who hung around the popular kids – tolerated but never taken any notice of, never listened to, never agreed with. The one who was bullied or if he was lucky, ignored. The last one to be picked when kids chose teams to play games – the Fat Kid. Or worse. Piggy, Fatso, Lard-ass. Or Four-eyes – yes, the pebble glasses didn’t help, either. Without them he was almost blind. He couldn’t see or focus on anything. Slow, useless at sports. And not all that sharp intellectually. One of Nature’s losers. It was as i...

2 likes 4 comments 4
Read story

THE INFERNAL BARGAIN

Weekly Contest #310

‘So you want to sell me your soul,’ said the demon. ‘What do you want in return? Power? Riches? World domination? A woman?’ ‘I want to go viral on social media.’‘What’s that?’‘Have you heard of the internet?’ asked Max.‘Vaguely. It’s some kind of electronic thing, isn’t it? Or something to do with spider webs?’‘No, the World-wide Web. It’s a means of communication. You know what a computer is, don’t you?’‘Someone who works with figures?’ The demon was looking progressively more baffled and he obviously felt out of his depth.‘No, it’s a machi...

3 likes 2 comments 2
Read story

HAPPY NEVER AFTER

I sat in the long grass watching her, the warm smell in my nostrils, like new-mown hay. She was beautiful, so beautiful. Her hair like gold in the sun, shimmering with highlights as the sunlight caught it, little strips of lighter gold here and there, the ends slightly frayed, it needed cutting soon. Her slim body – she was so skinny in those days, so long ago. She gained weight as we grew older – she was always worried about it, no matter how I tried to reassure her. But to me she was always beautiful, all the time I knew her, like some kin...

2 likes 2 comments 2
Read story

TOSTIG'S REVENGE

Weekly Contest #309

Note: This story is fiction, but based upon real historical events. Tostig Godwinson, the man who had been Earl of Northumbria, one of the most powerful men in England, lay dying on the battlefield, his household troops slaughtered around him. The battle still raged, but he knew the day was lost. His thoughts fled back to what led him to this. Regret for his shattered plans, for his sins which would now never be forgiven, because he would die unshriven with them heavy on his conscience. How had it all gone so wrong?‘Pride, my son,’ the Arch...

2 likes 0 comments 0
Read story

ABOUT THAT SUMMER

Weekly Contest #308

The old man sat in the sunshine, reminiscing. He remembered when he was young, growing up in the 1960’s - a time so different from today. Somehow more innocent, more open, despite the things going on around them – the Vietnam war, racism, the fight for women’s rights. He had gone to school, had friends, taken part in sports (though he had not been very good at them – he was the studious type). Looking back, he realised he was what would now be called a nerd – the word didn’t exist back then. Skinny – he had shot up in height but hadn’t gaine...

13 likes 3 comments 3
Read story

THE REAL MEANING OF DREAMS

Weekly Contest #308

Mia found herself in the examination without having done the preparatory work, as she had feared she would. The first question left her gasping – she knew she had no way of answering it – she simply had not done the study. She quickly flicked through the question book – if anything the questions got harder, not easier. And it was supposed to be an open book exam, but she had not brought her textbooks, nor her notes. In fact, she couldn’t remember ever having taken notes for this subject, or even attended lectures. What was she doing here? Sh...

3 likes 0 comments 0
Read story