Alan Tong

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jun, 2021

Stories (4)

4 Stories

76 karma pts

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“Normal” by Alan Tong

Submitted to Contest #103

There was a bench in Sam’s neighborhood park. It was old and worn from decades of rain, wind, and the bottoms of the suburban children and parents who frequented the place. The bench overlooked a large field of unkempt grass and wildflowers that would become illuminated in a golden light when the sun would set. A beautiful thing, that bench was. The evening after he, and everyone else in the world, received the news, Sam went and sat on that bench. The world was changing, but still, he knew he could count on that bench to be there. Sam wat...

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“Let's Just See What Happens” by Alan Tong

Submitted to Contest #102

On my sixteenth birthday, my grandfather gave me a coin. “Found this on the floor of a subway train when I was sixteen,” he said in that scratchy voice that emerged as a result of years of weathering and cigarettes. “Used it almost every day since then.” I looked at him quizzically. He smiled and continued. “Life is a coin flip, my son. When you find yourself at a crossroads, don’t worry about which way to go. Flip this coin and you'll find that more often than not, you'll know what to do before the coin has even landed.” At the time, I thou...

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“Miles to Go Before I Sleep” by Alan Tong

Submitted to Contest #101

In life, the Mask-Maker’s wife loved poetry. Her home office on the second floor of their quaint town home was lined with painted bookshelves, crammed to bursting with novels and collections. She liked to joke that the most dangerous part of their house was the entrance hall, as it was planted directly beneath the office and was therefore in the primary blasting zone were the office to finally collapse under the weight of all those books. She would smile as she’d joke about these things; a dazzling sight, her mouth curling in a way that alwa...

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“Closing Time” by Alan Tong

Submitted to Contest #100

It was dark by the time Aubrey Smith flipped around the small wooden sign hanging in the window of her small Brooklyn bakery from “open” to “closed.” She made it herself with the thought that it hopefully made the shop just a little more homier. Tonight, her mind was miles away from such things. Above, the sky loomed as a hulking block of blue-black through which only the most stubborn pinpricks of starry light could shine through the clouds and light pollution. She stepped into the humid night air, breathing in the acrid night scents of th...

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Author bio

I like stories.