Adam Wohnoutka

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Dec, 2019

Stories (6)

6 Stories

117 karma pts

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“A Most Curious Gift” by Adam Wohnoutka

“Do you have a gift receipt?”I roll my eyes and unintentionally scope a sampling of the curiosity shop’s merchandise: overpriced crystals, a taxidermied armadillo, and fat tomes of the occult. “I do not. This package just showed up at my door.”“Do you know who sent it?” the cashier spits through jet-black lipstick.“No idea. I did a little research and all signs pointed to this place. I think I was safe in assuming it didn’t come from Kohl’s.”The cashier scrunches...

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“I Ain't Afraid of No Ghosts” by Adam Wohnoutka

I handed the tattered beige jumpsuit over to the Goodwill employee. The last vestige of my childhood, pushed through the car window like a drive-thru bank deposit, only to end up on a Halloween clearance rack for $3.99. What else was there to do? At 28, my proton pack days of busting ghosts were long gone. Sensing the melancholy, the Goodwill employee tried to lighten the mood with this ditty: “Who you g...

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“The Blue Door” by Adam Wohnoutka

The broken man silenced the wails of his alarm clock. Nightmares had hijacked his every dream, and yet he slept the whole night through. It wasn’t a rejuvenating sleep, but rather a helpless dormancy of paralyzed body and tortured mind. He rose from his bed with wet eyes and a sluggish brain. The nightmares didn’t stop here.Breakfast, some high-viscosity protein milk, wriggled down th...

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“Buzz, Your Girlfriend...WOOF!” by Adam Wohnoutka

The pale neon lights flicker weakly, an obsolete bug zapper that no longer attracts barflies. I’m surrounded by watered-down booze and endless blues. It’s some shit shanty of a tavern banished to the outskirts of downtown Chicago. But hey, it’s just fine for a busted and broken ex-con pushing 70. I wipe the suds from the last pint glass and prepare to close this dump an hour early. But then...

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“The First Winter” by Adam Wohnoutka

I’m scared. Mom isn’t moving. There were two sounds before she went still. First was her cry when the metal teeth clamped down on her leg. It echoed through the forest. Next was the booming blast when the human pointed a metal stick at her. It echoed through the forest. Smoke is dancing from the metal stick’s mouth and mom still isn’t moving. Her tongue is stuck out like she’s making a sill...

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“Lucy” by Adam Wohnoutka

In the phantom blue glow of the flickering television screen, kitschy knick-knacks stood sentry over the living room, putting their owner’s mind at ease. Vintage PEZ dispensers, jewelry fitted with artificial stones, chintzy gadgets, and obscure artwork represented what should have been a lifetime supply of buyer’s remorse. And yet their owner could not imagine an existence without his precious things.

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Author bio

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