Allen Wilkinson

“Victoria” by Allen Wilkinson

Submitted to Contest #221

I’d always been proud of the view from the den. The large bay window overlooked the slope which ran from the house to the fence in a long, grassy sweep and from there the wooded hillside fell away to the village a mile farther down. The road wound its way to the village from the other side of the house and left the green view unmarred from the glass enclosed seat which dominated the room’s western wall. Victoria loved to...

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“The Compass” by Allen Wilkinson

Submitted to Contest #209

What the he...?Andy looked around, bewildered. He didn’t recognize anything. That wouldn’t be nearly as disconcerting if he hadn’t known exactly where he was two minutes before. He’d hunted, hiked, hell, slept, in these woods since he was a child. He knew them like he knew his own living room. He habitually carried a compass in his gear though he never remembered using it in this place, at least not since he played with it as a kid. He pulled it out now.He'd been going east...

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“Inner Cover” by Allen Wilkinson

“Don’t you remember?”  I heard this distinctly as though the written words echoed through the library. “Who said that?” was my brilliant response, but there was no reaction from any of the other patrons “It was oh so long ago now, I think.” The voice continued. “We walked in the park, next to the lake where the ducks swam. People walked their dogs and the sun shone so brightly then, befo...

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“Harry's Tale” by Allen Wilkinson

Submitted to Contest #151

Things came into focus as I sat up and opened my eyes, my hand stopped its rubbing across my forehead and I stared in momentary confusion at the curious scene in my mind. I wasn’t completely sure for a second what I was seeing; had I fallen asleep? Awareness of my situation grew and I began warming to the task at hand once again. I suppose that I had dozed for a moment, brooding on my thoughts. Harry’s tale was unfolding at last but only with considerable difficulty.I sat in front of the desk, hands w...

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“Lighting the Darkness” by Allen Wilkinson

Submitted to Contest #108

The air seemed to rush past me and up, like a waterfall bereft of moisture and weight, turned on its head.  The trees around me glowed bright yellow and flashing red, the cold glow of the moon polluted by soty light while steam hissed and billowed around the scene.  I sat hunched with my head between my knees and my arms over my neck shaking with tears while the house crumbled to coals and ashes behind me.  I was six and...

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“Family Heirlooms” by Allen Wilkinson

I’d been putting this off for too long but just standing and looking across this one room it was easy to tell why.  My parents had been hoarders in their own way and just the living room was full of proof.  There weren’t piles of old newspaper or other such things that became garbage as it sat, but there were keepsakes, photos, certificates, trophies, everywhere.  My siblings and I weren’t superheroes or even all that in...

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“In Dreams We See” by Allen Wilkinson

Submitted to Contest #105

I was gasping for air, running down what seemed like a tunnel.  I could feel the pursuit like hot breath on my neck but I had no idea from what I ran.  I had reached the end of my strength and stumbled, then felt strong hands clutching at me as I fell.  I awoke in a slick sweat, surrounded by darkness. I thought that I was awake but I became less sure as I looked around.  There was a faint, gray light in ...

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“Disturbing Reality” by Allen Wilkinson

Submitted to Contest #104

The traffic was horrible.  Heat shimmered in the air above the cars and the stench of exhaust penetrated the air conditioning, slightly burning my sinuses and leaving an unpleasant trace on my tongue.  The entire week had been as bad as this traffic and all I wanted to do was collapse at home and forget that there was a world around me until Monday forced me into it once more.  Just get me home, Lord, and I’ll stay there...

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“At Night We Dream” by Allen Wilkinson

Submitted to Contest #103

The steps ran upwards, each one just wide enough to make you feel as though they were designed for a larger person to climb.  At the top was a cavernous seeming porch with each front corner supported by a smooth sided column which appeared to rise from the stone floor and disappear into the stone arch of the roof.  It was a thoroughly intimidating approach and I stood at the foot of the stairs, resisting the urge to asce...

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“Hax and Hickory” by Allen Wilkinson

Submitted to Contest #102

“What is wrong with you people, marchin’ and marchin’ in this dadblamed heat?”  Hax Gillespie’s continuous griping was wearing on the entire troop.  The two days since he had been dragged from his house and tied over the back of a horse had seemed an eternity. “I reckon it’ll be freezin’ tonight though, ice beaded all over us from the sweat.”  It was March and while the sun beat down on them in the aftern...

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“Introducing Hax” by Allen Wilkinson

Submitted to Contest #101

“It’s too dang hot to get up!” Hax Gillespie’s morning call to arms rang out.  The first sergeant would nudge Hax with one boot and the rest of the men were up in a flash.  Hax, however, preferred to continue his repose. “Come back when breakfast’s up.” The sergeant would haul him bodily to his feet and throw him toward the others’ formation and he would grumble his way int...

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“Soul Food” by Allen Wilkinson

Submitted to Contest #100

Every direction showed me the same monotonous view; gentle waves reflecting bright sunlight.  How long had I been on this boat?  There had, supposedly, been food and water on board to support two people for a week and that had been gone for?  I tried to remember and couldn’t.  What I knew for certain is that my lips were dry and cracked while my stomach was a constricted knot in my gut.  I was sunburned and my bones ache...

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“Heat Lightning” by Allen Wilkinson

Submitted to Contest #99

I’d sat on the porch with the old man for nearly an hour now.  He had smoked his pipe and taken large gulps of iced tea out of a jar next to his chair the entire time while I took smaller swallows from the jar he’d given me and waited patiently for him to speak.  His wife came out from time to time to refill the jars and immediately returned to the house, leaving us in our shared and sweaty silence.  It was the wife who ...

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