PostsChallengesPortalsAuthorsBooks
Sign Up
Log In
Posts
Challenges
Portals
Authors
Books
beta
Sign Up
Search
Profile banner image for rosetempest
Profile avatar image for rosetempest
Follow
rosetempest
She/Her. 30. A budding rose, trying her best to clip some of her thorns, be less afraid and more open to the world. LGBTQIA+ friendly.
33 Posts • 101 Followers • 272 Following
Posts
Likes
Challenges
Books
Profile avatar image for rosetempest
rosetempest in Nonfiction

Stranger Danger

Back in middle school, I was walking home from the park with a friend when a white van pulled over.

The window rolled down, revealing two men. "Hey, girls. Do you know where Home Depot is?"

"Sorry," I replied, oblivious. "I'm no good with directions."

"Does your friend know?"

"No, I don't," she replied.

"Guess we'll just find it ourselves." The windows rolled back up. They drove off.

"That was scary." My friend squeezed my arm. "Mom says that's how kidnappers lure children in. They ask a question, get the kid to move closer to the car, then grab them."

Profile avatar image for rosetempest
rosetempest in Flash Fiction

The Search Dog

Scout, the German Shepherd, sniffs the small baseball cap in her owner's hand. Her nose leads them into the woods. Foliage crunches beneath her paws and her owner's boots.

Daylight fades. The air cools. Scout persists, her owner illuminating the way ahead.

She stops at the edge of a ravine and starts barking.

Challenge
August Drabble Challenge: MURDER!
Tell me a story using good, solid prose in exactly 100 words. This month, tie it in to MURDER. Not necessarily the act itself, but that'll be fine, too; use your imagination. I want a super short story somehow related to doin' murder. No need to tag me, I'll read all the entries in September and select a winner.
Profile avatar image for rosetempest
rosetempest

Death of the Self

Sleep eludes her. Again. Tears gather, but dry just as fast.

Her baby wails.

Her husband stirs. "Shut that baby up," he growls.

She imagines smothering "that baby", then catches herself. How could she even think that? She's such a horrible mother.

She needs help. But if she tells anybody, they'll think she's crazy. They'll take her baby away.

She does what's expected. Drags her feet out of bed, towards the nursery. Cradles her baby, sits with her in the rocking chair, hums...

Still, her baby cries. Like she knows. Her mother is an empty husk, incapable of loving her.

Profile avatar image for rosetempest
rosetempest in Haiku

Forgotten

An old woman sits

Rotting in her rocking chair

Alone, forgotten.

Challenge
Challenge of the Week(ish) CCXXXIV
Write a haiku about discovering a corpse. Two weeks for this one. 50 bucks to the winner, chosen by Prose. Go.
Profile avatar image for rosetempest
rosetempest

Suicide Note

A scrap of paper

Said what Mom's blue lips couldn't

"Please, don't be like me."

Challenge
Challenge of the Week CCXXXIII
Write a short poem about waking up in drunken regret. On this one, winner is decided by likes. Make it brutal. 25 big ones on the line. Go.
Profile avatar image for rosetempest
rosetempest

The Past Repeats

Trigger/Content Warning: Child abuse

Drink, forget, blackout

Find the kids crying, beaten

Anguish, drink, forget...

Challenge
6 Word Story Challenge: A Fight Between Friends
Time to get pithy, Prosers! Write a six word story describing a nasty fight between two old and dear friends (based on real or imaginary experiences). Sharpen your wit and your knives and start carving out your masterpiece!
Profile avatar image for rosetempest
rosetempest

Love Triangle

She chooses him.

Distance. Hurt.

Acceptance.

Book cover image for Nanny and Papa
Nanny and Papa
Chapter 3 of 3
Profile avatar image for rosetempest
rosetempest

Their Signature Comedy Routine

As a kid, I got a kick out of Nanny reprimanding Papa whenever he got too mischievous. He'd do or say something out of line and she'd scold him and reel him back in. It wasn't until recently that I discovered that a lot of those times were just an act. Mom pulled back the curtains and revealed that Nanny would find reasons to scold him because she noticed how amused my brother and I would get every time he got in trouble with her. Although it was at his expense, Papa was a good sport about it. I imagine he played along for our sake.

It was like having a free, front row seat to a two-man improv comedy show. Papa would play the funny man, grappling with flimsy excuses to justify his behavior. Nanny would play the straight man or rather, woman, combating him with sound reasoning and ultimately putting him in his place. Together, they worked as a team in order to make my brother and I laugh.

This was just one of the many ways they made us happy.

Challenge
Who's Got the BEST First Liner? # 2
Can you make us thirsty for an entire novel by writing your BEST first line? Write the BEST first line to the next story that you never knew you wanted to tell. Sell us on your big idea in forty (40) words or less, no more. Draw us in by saying everything to overwhelm our minds with excitement or say just enough to lure us in and have us lusting for the next four-hundred pages. Any Genre is allowed. The object is to grab us at the beginning and to make us never want to let go. Must be done in ONE sentence. Happy writing! I pick the winners and will read every entry!
Profile avatar image for rosetempest
rosetempest

Becoming Ella

Twas only in the dead of night, whilst her stepmother and stepsisters slept, that she could set the suffocating mask of the stepson, Eldon, aside in favor of allowing the woman inside of her out to breathe.

Book cover image for Nanny and Papa
Nanny and Papa
Chapter 2 of 3
Profile avatar image for rosetempest
rosetempest

No Mercy

As much as I enjoyed playing Rummikub, my favorite game to play with my grandparents was Uno. If it was a nice day out, we'd play out in the sunroom. If not, we'd play in the kitchen. Whenever it rained at the community pool, we'd play at a plastic table underneath an awning as a means of passing the time until the storm passed.

Both of them cut, shuffled, and dealt the cards with the finesse of professional card dealers.

Whenever Papa put down the first card or changed the color, he said a catchphrase for each one. For blue, he'd sing, "The sky is blue. How old are you?" For green, he'd say, "Green-go." For red, he'd say, "Red dead." And for yellow, he'd say, "Mellow yellow."

Nanny and Papa both had a different approach to playing the game with my older brother and I. Nanny went easy on us. She didn't have it in her to use any of the Draw Two or Draw Four cards against us. Papa, on the other hand, didn't have such qualms. He showed us no mercy. He'd slap those cards down onto the pile with a flourish and gave a mischievous chuckle as we drew two or four cards from the deck.

The more I played the game, the more I followed his lead. After winning a lot of games, he dubbed me the Uno Queen.

What can I say? I learned from the best.

Welcome
Welcome to Prose.! Publish your work, follow writers, and engage in community challenges.
By entering Prose., you acknowledge that you are 21 years of age or older, and you agree to our Terms of Service and Privacy Policy.
If you used Twitter or Facebook to get into your account and now can't get in, please contact us at support@theprose.com