Andre B. Corbin

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Feb, 2024

Stories (4)

4 Stories

64 karma pts

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“Tina's Knitting” by Andre B. Corbin

Submitted to Contest #260

Tina’s eyes popped wide as the door to her room, with a hushed carpet-drag, opened barely enough to let the subdued illumination from the hallway and a figure slip in. The light was quickly gone with the soft muffled snick of the door shutting with the barely heard careful working of the handle being slowly released, but Tina’s visitor was still there – in the room. Lying in her bed, she could hear him breathing slowly and deeply. Just as she was. Both sharing together the air and the anticipated moment, but only one surviving the night.* * ...

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“Saving Photos” by Andre B. Corbin

Submitted to Contest #258

Susan lifted her phone up from her lap and quickly thumb-clicked three pictures of the balding man sitting on the bench across the playground. Her eyes dropping from the old man to her phone, she switched to video in time to catch him raising up a camera with snubby lens, aiming it at a blonde boy at the top of a bathtub duck yellow tubular slide.Susan’s eyes cut to the boy as he beat his little fists against his purple shirt with a Tarzan yodel before diving headfirst down the slide. The boy popped out of the bottom of the slide with a shri...

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“Karl's Lament” by Andre B. Corbin

Submitted to Contest #255

*This story refers to death by vehicular accident.*Karl stood in the cold and dark living room, rooted to the floor with anguish. Chin on his chest. Fists clenched. Eyes silvery with unshed tears. In his mind’s eye, the movie started again.He and Karla were in the 4Runner, heading north on 494. They had left the Nugget pretty late and the snow was coming down good so it was tough to see the road. Karla had mentioned going up Williston but Karl, out of habit, had already taken the right onto Excelsior toward 494. Then he barked a little at Ka...

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“Noah's Mark” by Andre B. Corbin

Submitted to Contest #242

On the corner of Weteringstraat and Lijnbaansgracht, Noah Vanderbilt sat at a table in front of the Back to Black café drinking his third coffee of the morning as he waited for the Hopi Boy. As a master thief, no, a magnificent master thief, Noah amended, he prided himself on his nerves of steel, but his now empty espresso cup still chattered as he set it back on its saucer.           Too much caffeine, Noah thought. Not nerves. Or fear. But, Noah was (mostly) honest with himself and kne...

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Author bio

Currently living in Germany after retiring from 20+ years of US Army service. Check out Corbinistan.com for blog posts about being deployed to Afghanistan.