Joe Smallwood

“The Gods We Were” by Joe Smallwood

Submitted to Contest #197

“Your car doesn’t talk to you all the time?” asked Noah. “Mine does.” He just had to comment like that while we were in line waiting to use the chattering Canadian Tire self-checkout.Liam sighed. Everything was a production. Noah couldn’t just get something for work, he had to make discoveries and have revelations.“You know Noah!” A lame play on his name, not funny anymore.“You’re coming with me, Liam?” Noah said as he neared his car.“What does it look like?”“Then put up with me for a bit longer. Listen ...

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“This Will Be My Life” by Joe Smallwood

Submitted to Contest #197

Eight years old and I never knew I had ADHD. Neither did my parents. It hadn’t been invented yet. Skipping. I skipped everywhere, my poor parents yanked by my hand, my life bobbling to a beat I only knew. I never saw other children, faces all blurry. Then I grew up, like a dandelion, gangly and free. Not too much on the ball, still remember that grade 5 pitch, the only time my bat was my friend. Sailing, sailing s...

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“The Prism” by Joe Smallwood

Submitted to Contest #197

References to an imaginary execution.It’s the darndest thing to fall in love. One minute you are yourself and the next you’re somebody else. You can’t stop thinking about this person. It’s constant. No wonder people aren’t ready to commit. Aside from those feelings, who likes being overwhelmed?It’s the feelings we want, granted. The relationship is secondary. Hopefully, we get somewhere with that too eventually. But this is the closest I ever came to understanding what everyone knows. Life is out of our contro...

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“St. Michael” by Joe Smallwood

You would think we would know better. But what difference would just one warning make? “I told you! You will never listen!” “What is it this time?” I sighed. You know what it is!” Of course, I knew. It was in and out, hardly a thought was needed, and it was done. If nuclear weapons could be made easily, time travel would have an equal. But we aren’t talking about only possibilities here. This ...

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“Sentinel Island” by Joe Smallwood

Submitted to Contest #196

A single act of violence. Imaginary destruction.“Do you want the job or not?”Such a question always had only one answer. Funny how that goes, you think you have choices in life, but how often is that really the case? He’s got me where he wants me.“Of course,” I coughed, clearing my throat. Such dim lighting in this room, I’m thinking. Perfect for diodes and lights, monitors, and readouts. No one else is paying attention, all hunched over their consoles. Hardly right that. I knew what they were thinking.He’s in ...

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“Back at Work” by Joe Smallwood

Submitted to Contest #196

My parachute   My parachute?opened.Sailing!                        Plummeting! Gathering spot.        Splat?Dinner.                        Done here?Met a dish!   &nb...

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“The Borg Queen” by Joe Smallwood

Submitted to Contest #196

In another life, I would live another life. Like a James Bond mirror cascade, one mirror overlaps another out into infinity. Or that Star Trek conundrum, two men fighting each other forever to prevent universes from colliding and canceling each other out. Or… “Hey, dimwit! You’re on the call!” What? I say silently as my Starbucks nearly collides with all the other coffees I ...

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“Ionica” by Joe Smallwood

Submitted to Contest #195

“It looks just like a picture I saw once. Did you do it?” said Debra, my sister-in-law. Debra was admiring the “Lady with an Ermine," a painting hanging above our piano on our living room wall.“Oh, no!” Ionica exclaimed. “That painting is famous. It was painted by Leonardo da Vinci.” Ionica, my wife, a Romanian portrait artist, was a little flustered at the suggestion that she could do such a painting.“Then what is it?” quizzed Debra, somewhat rudely. “It’s not a photograph…”

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“My Stealth Assassin” by Joe Smallwood

This story contains descriptions of severe mental health difficulties and brief imaginary violence. Where did everything go? My youth, my strength. Fighting battles and winning senseless wars, dreams of conquest that litter my life, so torn and hopeless.My father so distant, my mother reading the paper. “Mom, I watched the whole news!” The black and white TV shines, as I plead, all of four years old.Pay attention to me, love me, soon I will grow up, and a monster will take ...

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“The Great Pretender” by Joe Smallwood

Submitted to Contest #193

Contains a single reference to a sexual abuse allegation. (not central to the plot)Joshua came into my class at Our Lady of Fatima in late October. He had a late start with us because at his old school, St. Michaels, kids always called him names like “brownie” and “squirt.” I had already warned my kids that I would not tolerate name calling. But the damage was already done. On his first day in grade four, Joshua would pick fights with anyone who so much as looked at him. He might have been a loving...

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“Missed Flight” by Joe Smallwood

Submitted to Contest #192

We live as if life should be perfect, like we missed our flight and earth is an unwelcome stopover. Or we like airports too much. You know, that feeling, the topsy-turvy, fast food vacation vibe?  Amazon delivered the wrong boyfriend along with the expensive kitchen tools that I could have bought at the dollar store. Money is tight. Sending it all back will be a pain, each thing in its own box. It could h...

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