A.G. Scott

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jul, 2020

Stories (28)

28 Stories

4409 karma pts

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“Kent & Esther” by A.G. Scott

“Hey, God. Love what you’ve done with the place. Stained glass is tacky everywhere else, but it really works here. Sort of. Look, I’ll shoot you straight. I’m just here to appear sad and reflective. Grandpa kicked it, I made light of the situation in front of Grandma, blah-blah-repent-blah. Actually, I’ve always believed that prayer is on about the same level as singing lullabies to a fern. Probably pointless, definitely embarrassing. And honestly, if I wanted to get on my knees in a lord’s house, I’d tour Scotland with my cousin’s acapel...

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“imago” by A.G. Scott

On the unlit stoop of an old modern house, a mother and her child stand nose to nose. Their whispers cut.“Yes, Rene. Fine! Your grandma is sanctimonious, crotchety, and a little bit racist. But none of that’s going to change in this life, and I think you’ll regret all this seething when she’s gone.”“Why should I?” Rene asks, face hardening as they retreat into a baggy sweater. “She won’t.”“It’s not a competition. How do you think a person ends up like that? Hm?”...

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“Elegy for Echa” by A.G. Scott

To ascend this spire again, even as it burns,Might be to find you hanging from the rafters,Your exoskeleton etched with binding runesAs if preparing to hibernate.Or, turning from the portal, I might findMy presence watched through your evil eye,A shadow of an acolyte, a silhouetteMirthfully shifting shapes to meet your need.I ascend this spire at every witching hourAnd, where the Redeemer cut ...

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“Just Words” by A.G. Scott

[CW: a couple slurs]Inventing new hate speech is not as easy as people think. When I was a kid, putting a cuss word next to a filthy animal was a pretty safe bet. Shit pig, pig shit, those sorts of things were the gold standard. Nowadays? I'm sorry, those things won't fly. The world we live in wants inclusive put-downs from fresh perspectives, pancultural verbal barbs sharpened by cruel and unusual minds. That's where I come in.One way to generate ideas for new hate speech is to p...

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“Boff” by A.G. Scott

Dawn.Greedy shadow slinks over checkout lane number thirteen, consuming the conveyor belt, the register, and the oblivious, brace-faced girl behind the counter. The Wauwatosa Kroger has hardly been open for ten minutes, and its self-checkout stations do most of the work; no cloying couponer has arrived to peel the cashier’s attention away from her phone. The essence of a smile touches her chapped lips as she types a message to her boyfriend: getting paid to read twitter lol. Then there’s a...

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“The Box” by A.G. Scott

(CW: brief allusion to child abuse)The Box is as ordinary as anything. It has six faces, eight corners, and twelve edges, not counting the lid. For now it is wrapped in a perfectly pleasant shade of puce and bedecked with a bold bronze bow. Like all gifts, the Box is at once giving and taking, at once known and unknown, but it is not scary. It has no lips to grimace or grin with; it cannot grumble, or growl, or lash out and grab with grubby little hands. It is ordinary: it can open, and it can shut. The only thing is, it...

11 comments 11 SHORTLIST ⭐️
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“Doomscrolling” by A.G. Scott

I.Eyes crusty, Cyrus Ghasemi rolls over in bed and stretches his body like a Persian cat, copious black body hair standing on end with the static of the shifting sheets. Muscle memory sends a paw swiping at the bedside table. By no intention of Cyrus' own, he grasps his smart phone and enters the connect-the-dots unlock pattern, which resembles a cross or a pentagram, depending on how he looks at it. He rarely does--look at it, that is. By now, tapping into the world wide web is as natural to him as wiggling his toes.

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“What are the Odds?” by A.G. Scott

CW: terminal illness, suicidal ideation“Does the wind always blow this way?” asked the Eastern visitor, holding onto his hat.“No mister,” said the cowboy. “It’ll maybe blow this way for a week or ten days, and then it’ll take a change and blow like hell.”A tired chuckle followed, and then a profound silence. The odd pair looked with great envy upon the prairie grass, which with its two-foot roots had long been the great withstander of both storm and drought. After a moment of contemplation their ...

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“The Death of You” by A.G. Scott

The 'RECORD' button on my old Panasonic resists; I have to put nearly all my weight on it in order to get it to click down. Finally the L.E.D. glows and the cassette tape starts to spin, permitting the examination to commence.“Deceased is a thirty-year-old female,” I say, my voice echoing in a cube of cold cement.Your body lies on a sterile metal table, bathing in ugly fluorescent light.Sudden movement in the basement window, high up on the wall, catches my eye. Against the moonlit fro...

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“Dinner and a Show” by A.G. Scott

1920.A sticky June dusk befell Chicago on the night Charlie Greene decided to cross the line.A young negro tip-toeing through the busy Loop district, Charlie paused in front of a department store and contemplated his reflection in the tinted display window. He worried for a moment about the stubborn soot stains on his brow and nose… but looking sharp wouldn’t make him any less out of place on this side of town. Coffee-colored skin was wont to stand out against the pale brickwork lining the downtown stre...

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“To Want, and To Be Found Wanting” by A.G. Scott

The office of the headmistress, located on the highest floor of the central tower, is the most intimidating room in all the Royal Arcanum. Everybody thinks so. The detailed sandstone suite is populated by strange artifacts, which are sure to break under too heavy a touch; by sacred tomes a handspan thick or more; and by grave old witches in cultish beige robes. It also happens to be my mother’s place of work, but never mind that. Today, she is not mama, but a dutiful disciplinarian. The look on her face is illegible.I lo...

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“The Firefly Fairy” by A.G. Scott

To the untrained eye, the Cartwright farm seemed a nice enough place. Peaceful, if a bit isolated. But looking closer, over Ma Cartwright’s neatly cultivated garden, past old Nana Cartwright in her rocking chair on the porch, one would notice something… unnerving. Not only did the sidings peel, lending the house a general air of long-going decay; not only were the windows covered in rows of thick oak planks; but the Cartwrights themselves carried a mangy, wild countenance, untrained by polite society.Little Grayson Cartw...

34 comments 34 SHORTLIST ⭐️
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“Nevermore” by A.G. Scott

A storm came on the night Jacob Walker’s father tried to kill him.Lightning did not chase away the oppressive darkness. Thunder did not drown the barks and shrieks inside the farmhouse. The rain did not revitalize the wilting fields, nor did it loose the old man’s grip on his axe.By the grace of God, Jacob managed to wriggle free of his father’s shadow, of the smell of whiskey and sweat. He dashed across the land, vaulted the boundary fence, and disappeared into a lush wood. His father, a drowsy husk of...

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“Mr. Evermore” by A.G. Scott

Today was even gloomier than usual. Moody storm clouds loomed over the harbor, casting a nauseating haze over Boston. Watching darkness drift in from what seemed like the edge of the world, the boisterous city fell quiet.Moreover, a peculiar fog crept quietly through the maze of hilly streets. It swirled about, tonguing the outer walls of old brick buildings. In the thick of it, one could scarcely see across the street, and Old Boston's antique gas lamps were of little help.At the corner of a foggy mark...

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“Plenty of Fish” by A.G. Scott

I am never going on another first date.I don’t care much for dating in general, but I guess it beats drinking alone. On second thought, no, that’s a bald-faced lie. Drinking alone is kickass. But heed my warning: if you stay in hermit mode for too long, people will start coming up with all sorts of unfair assumptions, like he’s asocial, or he’s depressed. True, but unfair nonetheless.I’m not sure how Aaron got me to agree to join him on a double date. I’m not even sure how we ...

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Author bio

Direct all multi-level marketing schemes, jokes, and harrowing narrative recipes to: agscottwriter@gmail.com

Shortlisted 5 stories ⭐️

Contest #124
The Box – read story
Contest #115
Doomscrolling – read story
Contest #112
What are the Odds? – read story
Contest #99
To Want, and To Be Found Wanting – read story
Contest #98
The Firefly Fairy – read story