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Tricia Shulist

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Feb, 2021

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150 Stories

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The Party

Weekly Contest #316

THE PARTY Dana looked around the backyard. She watched as her guests mingled, laughed, drank, and ate. It looked like another success. She and Eric threw an annual party to celebrate the success of their law practice for friends, family, employees, and clients. Well, if Dana was honest with herself, only certain clients were invited. Eric insisted that not all of the clients were “party-calibre.” But they all paid the same fees, thought Dana. Eric loved these get togethers. Dana did not. Eric loved playing the Lord-of-the-Manor, ch...

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No Match Made in Heaven

NO MATCH MADE IN HEAVEN “So, that was fun.” I looked at my best friend, Vivian, and raised an eyebrow. “Was it, though?” I asked. We were sitting in the bar at the newest downtown restaurant, Heaven, where she and I had just finished our first-ever speed dating event—one for older singles. Apparently, it was the newest thing for men and women of a certain age who wanted to get back into the dating scene. This was the informal portion of the meet-up, where we could talk to anyone who’d interested us. The last activity before we submitt...

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Dog Day Afternoon

DOG DAY AFTERNOON I don’t move, pretending to be asleep. I can feel the other’s eyes on me, watching. The same way he has watched me every day. Silently judging. So superior, so high and mighty, so much better than me—or so he thinks. But what he doesn’t know is that I have the upper hand in this game of his. I have a secret. I will show him who’s higher and whose mightier; who’s faster and who’s meaner. It’s been going on like this since we arrived four days ago. Whenever I come outside to relax he comes to the fence and stares at...

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Darkness

DARKNESS What …. what … what’s that smell? Darkness. That smell … A bubble of fear explodes in my brain. I need to … So tired. … sleep. Darkness. No! Wake up! That smell! Trying to open my eyes. I can’t. Need to sleep. Darkness. Again. I dream I’m camping with my parents. Long, long ago. Both gone now. We’re sitting around the campfire … Drifting. Trying to remember. BEEEEEP! BEEEEEP! BEEEEEP! That sound … one continuous shriek … my head pounds … what is it? I’m afraid. But I know that sound … it’s … Cough! Cough...

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My Precious Book

MY PRECIOUS BOOK My phone rang. I ignored it. I knew who it was. And, I didn’t want to talk to her. As I picked up the phone to decline the call the name Ellie Walker was displayed at the top of the screen. Yup, I was right. My agent. I placed the phone faced-down on my desk. Ding. Damn it! She was texting me now. Pretty soon, she’d be sending me an e-mail, or showing up at the door, or sending me a registered letter! I felt panic start to rise. I was royally screwed. My manuscript was overdue—really overdue—and the publishers...

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The Truth?

THE TRUTH? I was scrolling through YouTube the other day, when I came across this short called Interview of the Year. I’m not sure—either the interviewer had the power to make people tell the truth, or the interviewee could only tell the truth. It was funny, in a cringey way. But it was fiction, right? Maybe. Maybe not. I always felt a little different. Not only because I have red hair—a rare and beautiful colour my grandmother always assured me—but because of the weird things that started happening to me. Or to put it another way,...

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Gran’s Memory Book

GRAN’S MEMORY BOOK Carla took a deep breath and checked her Amazon book account. As the information flashed up on the screen, her eyes widened. Her numbers were better than she’d ever dreamed! Her sales were climbing, and people were talking about The Silenced Witness. One Goodreads reviewer gushed about the intricacy of the plot. Another couldn’t get over how real-to-life the characters were. A third reviewer raved that the historical authenticity was impeccable. There’d even been a phone call from the New York Times Book Review edi...

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Do I Know You?

DO I KNOW YOU? “Harper Lee Goodwill, get in here, right now!” I hated it when Momma used my full name. It always—and I mean always—meant that I was in trouble. For something—anything—she took umbrage with. My mind raced backwards scanning for any small transgression I may have committed today. It didn’t matter, big or small, real or imagined—f she was angry enough to use my full name, a tongue lashing that was about to be rained down on me. My twin brother. There is no gender preference with her—she despises us both equally. His nam...

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Dancin’ in the Moonlight

DANCIN’ IN THE MOONLIGHT When Opal went out to check the mail, she was happily surprised. Since the advent of online shopping, computer banking, and electronic everything else—e-vites, e-cards, e-mail, and texting—her mailbox was usually only filled with flyers and advertisements from local tradespeople touting their skills. Other than the big white envelopes from the bank, Opal and Felix rarely received what she liked to call “real mail.” So when she was the creamy white envelope addressed to Opal and Felix Gregory in exquisite calligra...

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Happy Birthday to Me

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME I put my phone on my desk, face down and sighed. It was my birthday, and the government couldn’t help themselves—they had to ruin it. ***** I walked over to the white board, and wrote, “Today is my 60th birthday. Do you know what that means?” My class of about sixty second-year Ethics and Logic students looked at me blankly, or refused to make eye-contact, their gazes falling to their desktops or devices. They knew what my sixtieth birthday meant, but didn’t want to talk about it. It was kind of like when someone...

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Gardening, Am I Right?

GARDENING, AM I RIGHT? February 21: Well, I guess this is the perfect time to start using this garden journal I was gifted from the kids at Christmas. Why, you ask? I know that we live in Canada, and it is the dead of winter, and there’s not much gardening going on right now. But I was reading the paper this morning, and the gardening guy—the one who does the Open Gardens Week—well, he said that this is the last year that he’s doing in. It’s been twenty-five years, and he figures that’s long enough. But—and this is important—he was encoura...

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Done

DONE “You know what? I quit. I’m done,” I said taking a big breath. It had been a long, brutal day, and I was admitting defeat. My crusty father used to tell me that losers quit, winners got the job done. I mentally shrugged my shoulders. I guess I’m a loser, ‘cuz there’s no way I can finish this job. My husband, Uriah, smirked at me. “Again, Amelia? What is it this time? Did I leave my socks on the floor? Or put an empty milk carton back in the fridge? Or leave an empty toilet paper roll in the can? Come on, tell me—what cata...

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The Ghostwriter, Publisher, and the Star

THE GHOSTWRITER, THE PUBLISHER, AND THE STAR The Ghostwriter—Carla I looked down at the pile of paper, painted with red slashes and question marks. I don’t get paid enough for this! I thought—not for the first time. By just quickly thumbing through the pages, I could see there was more red ink than black type. This job was turning into a nightmare compared to the other ghostwriting jobs I’d done. Apparently, The Client—who shall remain nameless because of the NDA I signed—changed his mind—a lot—about how his life had actually unfolded...

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Angie and Devon

ANGIE AND DEVON “Could you please, just once, think about how your over-the-top reactions reflect on those around you?” Devon shrugged. “Nope. Unlike you, my dear Angie, I don’t care what others think.” She looked around Marie’s giant head, and gave Angie a sly smile. “Besides, for every action there is a reaction. And I am the queen of reactions!” Angie sighed. “Learn Newton’s third law before you go quoting it. It’s actually ‘for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.’” She paused. “By that rationale, you should b...

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Strangers in the Night

STRANGERS IN THE NIGHT Paige inhaled deeply. The air was sweet and cool. She could smell the late spring flowers on the breeze—lilacs, forsythia, hyacinths, maybe some early roses. Just what she needed after hours cooped up inside, staring at her computer screen. It was late, just after eleven—her favourite time for a walk. A light breeze gently rustled the leaves on the trees. The sky was cloudless, the stars competing with the waxing gibbous moon. She could hear the foraging of small animals in the bushes, their furtive movements a...

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