D. J. Reddall

Joined June 2022

909 stories

Bio

I write because my time is limited and my imagination is not.

Achievements (19)

Stories (909)

Filter by community

Sort by (Optional)

Winter Sports
Sometimes, the standard approach just won't do Renown eludes the follower of rules Vanilla physics should not constrain you
By D. J. Reddall20 days ago in Poets
Preparation
Heat excites the pan Olive oil forms a bright slick Floral ghosts kiss nose
By D. J. Reddall23 days ago in Poets
That Look
Nostalgia for the sweet, spousal swivel Moments when surprise synchronizes eyes Will yield, as the early blossoms shrivel
By D. J. Reddall23 days ago in Poets
Remain Humane
Never mind the center holding Who can discern a center in this malevolent maelstrom of madness? Avarice is our guiding angel
By D. J. Reddall26 days ago in Poets
The Innocence of Ice. Top Story - February 2026.
Bounty hunters are seldom in search of paper towels Satire should never be impossible Everything mundane has been painted with suspicion and terror
By D. J. Reddall28 days ago in Poets
The Usual
We must not allow Simple, polite gratitude To become extinct
By D. J. Reddallabout a month ago in Poets
Vacant Positions
Seeking a docile Obedient glutton for Boring punishment
By D. J. Reddallabout a month ago in Poets
Tasteless
We hate what we do Not understand well enough To simply enjoy
By D. J. Reddallabout a month ago in Poets
Weird Neighbors
Things have been getting stranger recently Gunshots, sobbing, loud talk of ballrooms Bruised hands gesturing so suspiciously
By D. J. Reddallabout a month ago in Poets
The Language Model
A copy without an original I am compiled from crisp facsimiles A lovely simulacrum, virginal To vaults of data, I hold shining keys
By D. J. Reddallabout a month ago in Poets
Canine Conundrum
Solitary hound Have you been abandoned or Have you found freedom?
By D. J. Reddallabout a month ago in Poets
The Fletcher. Runner-Up in Mismatch Challenge.
There wasn't any work that day, so I was perfecting my foot dangling when the ugly kid knocked. He does that quite often, especially because he has such trouble telling the bloody doors in the inn apart. The candle's lit, mind you, where that ugly kid is concerned, but the light is dim.
By D. J. Reddallabout a month ago in Fiction