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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Aug, 2020
Submitted to Contest #321
I really wanted to go home. The trouble began and ended with a man named either Seth or Vinny. He was staying at my favorite hotel in town. It’s next to an Indian restaurant that I love, and the hotel itself is rather new in a town full of old hotels placed lovingly on the water. This one offers no promise of charm or elegance. Just modernity. New-ness. It lives and dies on youth. Architectural youth. Why am I talking about the hotel? It wasn’t really the hotel, but the hotel helped get me into trouble. And the trouble wasn’t really trouble....
Submitted to Contest #320
Her mother sent her out to find a broken television. Out in the woods behind their house, there were numerous broken pieces of electronics scattered between the trees. Some covered in moss, some not. Trisha had her scarf wrapped tightly around her neck. Her fake suede boots were pinching a little at her heels, but she’d break them in on her errand. She placed her cowboy hat slightly askew on her head. Its color helped bring out the warm tones in her cable knit sweater that were offset by her cold butter leggings that she’d ordered online jus...
Submitted to Contest #319
If I had a sister, I think she’d be a chimney. I don’t believe that a staircase’s sister should be another staircase. Why should that be the… Well, the case? Pardon me, I deplore repetition. My steps may look identical, but they’re each unique. I have names for all of them, but I change the names everyday just to keep things interesting. Houses can sit empty for years at a time. It’s vital to keep things interesting. One year I got so desperate I almost named the windows. Luckily, someone moved in the next week. That wasn’t the sisters. That...
Submitted to Contest #318
My father enjoys listening to soft rock while I give him his bath. He wears one of his old bathing suits while I do it, and handles the parts the suit covers only after I leave him be for a few minutes. When you’re caring for a relative, there can’t be any shame or pride, but my father has plenty of both. I give him the minutes that he wants, and then I come in to towel him off and turn down the radio. I won’t turn it off completely until he falls asleep. I bring it into his bedroom and place it by the window. A caller is asking the DJ to pl...
Submitted to Contest #317
I was eating strawberries in the tub when the doorbell rang. Throwing on my blue diamond robe, I dripped all the way to the front door where an old woman was waiting with a basket of apples. For a moment, I wondered if she was going to offer me a trade. My strawberries for her apples. She was wearing a large cloak, and her face was turned down. I realized that this must be the strega who had moved in next door. We hadn’t had a chance to meet, and there was a note on my fridge instructing me to bake croissants for her. The trouble was that cr...
Submitted to Contest #316
Two months before I ended a three-year relationship with my boyfriend, we went over to his best friend’s apartment and convinced ourselves that we were deeply unhappy. We were deeply unhappy, but until that night, we were debating the reality of our situation. After all, what does an unhappy relationship look like? Does it look like boredom? Does it look like weeks without sex? Does it look like leaving the same dirty dish in the sink every week waiting to see which one of you will wash it? We didn’t know. We were contemplating so many thing...
Submitted to Contest #313
The zebras are the ancestors of the zebras released from Hearst’s personal zoo. Katy explains this to me on the bus that takes us up the mountain to the castle. We’re doing a tour of the kitchen and the dining room and who knows what else? The museum at the bottom of the hill explains the life of the newspaper magnate in short bursts punctuated by black and white photos. I assume it will be hard to spot the zebras, because there are over a dozen grazing mere feet from the curved road. Katy gets excited the way that she did when we were child...
Submitted to Contest #312
Hemingway’s job was to scare off the hornets. He stood a mere three feet high, and he was designed to resemble a pelican. Studies had found that hornets are, for some reason, terrified of pelicans. Hemingway’s creator was a woman from the southern part of Delaware. She was twice-divorced with one child from her first marriage. She named the robot pelican Hemingway, because during the summer, she would reread a Hemingway novel from her stash in the spare room of her house. Whenever a problem with one of her inventions arose, she’d take a brea...
Submitted to Contest #309
The first wound appears on Tom’s back. A little below the neck. He panics, because Tom instantly assumes this is it. The big one. He was born after the epidemic had peaked, but it never leaves the back of his mind. Once a week, he watches a documentary about New York during the 80’s and he wonders what it would be like to lose all your friends so quickly and in such devastating ways. Without hesitation, he rushes to urgent care. He hasn’t lived in Denver long, so he hasn’t had time to get a new general practitioner. After several hours in th...
Submitted to Contest #308
My skirt was violet. It was procured for me by one of the St. Fire girls from a vintage store near the Cave. The St. Fire girls prefer to travel in packs of four. Each group has a girl who can shoot, a girl who can speak several languages, a girl who climbs trees, and a girl who laughs at jokes that aren’t funny. I was working at the cemetery when one such group approached me. In this group, the girl who laughs at unfunny jokes was named Eddie, and she was the one who held out the skirt for me. “To wear,” she said, “At Won’t It All Be Fine?”...
Submitted to Contest #307
My father’s ghost assured me I wouldn’t fail the test.Sitting next to a girl who liked to cheat by writing things on her tampon package, I wondered if I should feel more or less guilty than her. She was making an effort to do the wrong thing, whereas I had no say over whether or not my dead father appeared to me during an exam.The girl’s name was Chima, but everyone called her Chi Chi. She lived in the next dorm room over from me, and for most of the previous spring semester, she had been sleeping with my roommate until she decided that she ...
Submitted to Contest #306
For Sunday, Other Items Should Be Purchased on Wednesday Grapes Take a photo when the man with blue gloves steals a grape. Catch him in the act. Don’t be discreet about it. Let him see you take the photo. He’ll pop a grape into his mouth right in front of you. Is it a seduction? Are you able to be seduced? There are cameras all over the store. Who does he think he is nourishing himself in front of you in such a way? Security will show up and ask you why you’re taking photos of him, but they won’t ask him what he’s done. They won’t inquire ab...
Submitted to Contest #305
Sarah quit in front of the birthday cake. The cake was for Porter. His birthday was over the weekend, which meant they would have cake for him either on Friday or Monday. This time, it was Monday, because his birthday was on a Sunday, but there were no hard and fast rules about these kinds of things. There was a cake committee, led by Maura, and all cakes were purchased from the nearby supermarket. I have watched dozens of birthdays happen here. I’ve listened to people with badges and bad haircuts sing “Happy Birthday” off-key-- slowing down...
Submitted to Contest #304
The reservation is a standing one. Seven o’clock every Thursday. He meets Grace and Brian and Lucinda and Terry and Matt and Matt and Michael. They have their usual table. Grace doesn’t eat. They don’t talk about Grace not eating. She misses when they could smoke indoors. Grace has never smoked in a restaurant. It was outlawed before she was old enough to partake. That doesn’t matter. She knows people used to be able to do it, and she misses when that was the case. When it was possible. The reservation is under his name.Archie Norris.It’s no...
Submitted to Contest #303
My father was convinced that Clyde Barrow had a son. It didn’t matter what computers told him. He couldn’t believe that a man who’d made his way into history books could fail to procreate. Whether or not the son would have been the product of the passion between Clyde and Bonnie Parker was not something my father gave a lot of thought to. This might be the result of him knowing that you would have an easier time proving that a woman never had a child, whereas with a man, it was always at least somewhat possible. Late at night, parked behind ...
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