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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Dec, 2019
Submitted to Contest #22
"Chill out." Melinda smacks her lips together, smudging her brilliant ruby lipstick a little. "It's a party. You look like somebody died." “Your lipstick is smudged.” I look dubiously around the room. Everyone already looks wasted—a good sign, I suppose. Even though I’ve always lived in this city, the college life is so different than the townie life that it shocks me that this frat house is only a block away from mine. “It’s dark, nobody will notice.” “I did.” “Nobody fun will notice.” It’s a subtle jab, and she smiles so the impact is soft...
Submitted to Contest #20
Jaime couldn’t stop pacing. The waiting room was too small. Should it be taking this long? Something was going wrong. Something was going terribly wrong. “Nothing is wrong.” His husband, Eric, hadn’t moved from his chair, one leg up as if this was normal, as if they were at home and he was about to do a crossword. “Calm down.” “Something is definitely wrong,” he insisted. “It’s been hours.” “That’s normal,” Eric insisted. “Look, Julie knows what she’s doing. This is her fourth kid. It’ll be okay.” “But can’t births be hard on aging mothers?...
Dahlia and Finn both looked up in shock at the chandelier that hovered a few inches above Finn’s head. A red glow shimmered around the edges. “Magic,” whispered Dahlia. She’d grown up with the stories from her ugogo and evils of witchcraft, but she never really believed in it. “Magic,” said Finn, looking at Dahlia, shocked. Her face was bathed in a red glow, and Dahlia thought she could see the same red sparks dancing in Finn’s hazel eyes. The chandelier still looked menacing dangling over Finn’s head, so Dahlia was glad when it floated t...
Shortlisted for Contest #20 ⭐️
Bright, bright, bright. It was always too bright, always bright, always grating, grating at the back of his eyes, in the back of his mind. Peter no longer squinted. The lights that lined the room bored into his brain, boring and drilling, but Peter no longer squinted.The window, the singular window, told him it wasn’t food-time yet, but he couldn’t help but wait, shivering, by the door slot. She would come soon—or maybe not. Time didn’t exist in his blinding cell, not until the sky outside the window slit turned dark. When he stood, he could...
“Mother?” The mother swung her head down, making eye contact with the large black goggles that engulfed the majority of the little girl’s head. She shifted the basket of laundry from her left hip to her right. “Brenna?” “Are we going to get dinner soon?” “It’s barely even—” her mother checked the broken clock on the wall before remembering it hadn’t worked in years. “It’s not even six yet. Are you hungry? I just gave you a snack.” Brenna shook her little head, the goggles wobbling comically. “No, I just wanted to know when we could get dinne...
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