reedsymarketplace
Assemble a team of professionals
reedsystudio
The writing app for authors
reedsylearning
Writing courses, events and memberships
reedsydiscovery
Get your book reviewed
reedsyprompts
Weekly writing prompts and contests
Writing courses, events and conferences
Upcoming events
The Bigger Picture: Writing with a Series in Mind
April 13, 2026
Writing Beyond Your "Brand"
March 16, 2026
What's in a Name? Naming Characters, Places & Titles
February 09, 2026
Previous events
From Book to Screen (And Everything in Between)
February 02, 2026
Learn how to succeed as a writer from the best in the business.
Every writer needs a Studio
Check out our writing app for authors!
Menu
More apps built by Reedsy
Author on Reedsy Prompts since Feb, 2022
Submitted to Contest #139
Crunch, crunch, crunchLoose gravel crunching under the weight of her father’s feet was her favorite sound during their daily walks. Her little hand enwrapped in his large, calloused and tanned one wiggled free as she jumped and stomped, trying to emulate that specific crunching noise. She was just too little at that moment to even come close to creating such a cool noise!As decades past and time warped their bodies and minds into older beings, that crunch, crunch, crunch never left her.Daily walks through the neighborhood turned into yearly ...
Submitted to Contest #137
…MAYDAY MAYDAY MAYDAY DH4 LIBERTY7 I'M ROLLING, ROLLING I SEE IT, IT’S COMING RIGHT FOR ME, I'M GOING TO CRASH AH---OH MY GOD---HELP--OH MY G... * Whistling sound intensifies into a piercing guttural moan......static* ǂ "Dylan....Dylan....hello?" Chelsea pokes my shoulder with her pointy, manicured nail trying to get my attention. To be fair, I'm not paying attention at all. I don't want to be here, I don’t want to sit on this crusty, itchy couch, listening to her bitch and moan. This room is stifling, especially in this August...
Submitted to Contest #136
Look down, never look in their eyes. Keep looking down. As my icy, blistered feet splash the mud below, I keep telling myself to never look up. Never into their eyes. My frayed dress is now sticking to my ankles as I slowly wade from my rooms across the yard. The flutter of the hem is so soft on my raw skin, it almost tickles. It feels like a butterfly. I let my mind wander back to my daughter. We used to have pastel pink Mallow Flowers all over the back of our yard. Butterflies would gather every season, mating, pol...
Oops, you need an account for that!
Log in with your social account:
Or enter your email:
8 likes
