Dilettante Shultz

“Action Maxx!™ ” by Dilettante Shultz

Submitted to Contest #208

I never belonged in the toy box, this must be some kind of mistake on Sam’s part. Sam, a plucky preteen boy, a better owner an Action Maxx!™ couldn’t ask for. Every one of us figures deserves to be with the most courageous, adventurous boys and I think I must have got the best. I’ve been Sam’s favorite since he first opened me all those years ago; spent every night on the pillow next to him keeping an eye out for any v...

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“Alma's newfound independence” by Dilettante Shultz

    “Eve’s coming with me and she’s bringing a little surprise, I’ll see you in a few, mom. Love you.”  “Oh, I’ve not seen her since her wedding. It’ll be wonderful to catch up. Alright, love you, Gracie.” Alma closed her flip phone with a small clap. The stillness of the room came crashing back in. The smoky aroma of her Café' au lait had long since drifted away from the little breakfast table that sat center of the large sliding...

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“Cynthia's scent” by Dilettante Shultz

Submitted to Contest #79

Things have gone from bad to worse. My side has had a growing pain for a long time now. Cynthia, my Master, called me off the couch from my afternoon nap. I heard Her jingling the leash like She always does when we’re going to see the other people and their humans at the park. With effort, I hoisted myself off the couch, wincing from the pain in my side. Slowly I reached one foot over the edge, then the other, coming up ...

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“Discipline” by Dilettante Shultz

Submitted to Contest #78

It was supposed to be an all-nighter. Raj once again, tired from his job had given himself a half-hour T.V. break before beginning work on his newest project, a screenplay he had intended to produce with a small group of amateur filmmakers he knew. That half hour became “Just one more episode” and bled into an hour, then two, then before he knew it the glowing hole of a box had consumed his entire evening. Groggy and hal...

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“Jackson” by Dilettante Shultz

Submitted to Contest #76

Jackson didn’t consider himself a thief. If, from time to time he took something small that wouldn’t be missed, no harm done, right? His older brother, Scott, oftentimes hid snacks in his room: honey buns, potato chips, he’d even found an entire box of candy bars once; where Scott got the money for them it never occurred to Jackson to question. He got home from school at 3:45, exactly fifteen minutes before Scott’s bus w...

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