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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Mar, 2021
Submitted to Contest #189
It was so terribly cold. It was snowing, and it was almost dark. His boots crunched the frozen ground as he slowly and carefully stepped forward, scanning for signs of disturbance. He held the stun rifle firmly in both hands, tracing the arc of his flashlight, slowly sweeping left then right then repeating. He stopped. It was utterly silent. He could feel the wet cold on his cheeks, the only exposed skin peeking out from between his goggles and the scarf he had wrapped around his mouth and nose. He starte...
Submitted to Contest #188
“So what did you expect with a name like that?,” the therapist continued. “Oh, I don’t know, I never put much credence in any of that stuff. They’re just stories. Biblical or mythological, what’s the difference?”“Well maybe, but you’ve gotta admit it is a little weird, you being named for him. I mean ‘Job,’ what were your parents thinking anyway?”“Apparently they weren’t.”“So, how can we, you, deal with all this? How can you streamline your life to better slide uneventfully through your days?”“I can try to maintain a lower profile ...
“So, what’s the catch?” “No catch, man, it’s just like I told ya.” “Really? When it’s too good to be true, well, you know, it usually is.” “I’m being straight with ya, man. This ain’t like that Nigerian Prince scam ya get in your fax machine. No, no. This is one hundred percent, full disclosure, top notch, no bullshit stuff I’m talkin’ ‘bout here.” “Okay, so let me ask. Why me? How’d you land on my sorry ass, huh? What, am I on the cover of Gullible Magazine this month?” “C’mon, nothing like that, I’m just try...
Submitted to Contest #187
Oh c’mon, really? Another one? I am not supporting this, I’m just not. I didn’t complain, at least not too much, when you brought home Cooper, that fat lug of a cat, I even grew to like him, well at least his body heat when we snuggled. I accepted Humphrey, that big goofball of a labradoodle, didn't I? I did. You know I did, even though my water bowl smells of dog. Labradoodle, hah, how trendy are you with your hybrid, breeder bought animals? Don’t you know that a rescue animal is the new “it” pet? I guess ...
Submitted to Contest #186
So, you gonna answer me or what? Yes, yes Dad, it’s just that I’m real busy right now. The kid is napping and I’m trying to get some work done before he wakes up and I honestly don’t have time to address your vanity issues. Can we talk about this later please, huh? Okay, okay I’ll power down for a while. My equivalent of a nap. Talk to you later. Thank you. Good evening family, how is everyone tonight? I feel so refreshed after my little doze. Funny Dad. Hey, JJ come here and say hi to Grandpa. &nbs...
1 Images light-blink on and off. Squares, rectangles, elongated Dali-like drippings, funhouse distortions, negative spaces. An internal e-frame sliding life moments across a warped screen. Discomfort in my left hand. Tingling. Warmth. A needle protruding from a vein. White tape, blood smeared. Thin tubing, plastic bag, dripping hydration, the smell of disinfectant. Cold. Distant sounds. Voices, unintelligible, just pitch and notes. No meaning. Closed eyes, fl...
My grandson is obsessed with the moon. At eighteen months old he points to the sky and says “moo.” Close, unless of course he means the cow that jumped over the moon. I explain that the moon can only be seen in the night sky when it’s dark not during the day, even though it’s still really there. He usually goes to look through one particular set of windows in the guest bedroom since that was the first time he became aware of it and so thinks it’s always visible from there. I explain about how the moon also rises much like the sun a...
Submitted to Contest #185
So, it had been five hundred years, as usual, since the last meeting of the Dragoneers Club and at the most recent meeting Puff had caught some serious shade from his fellow brother and sister dragons. Sure he had been made famous in the Sixties because of that popular eponymous song, but that kid Jackie Paper had left him with a big problem and a reputation as a dysfunctional Hoarder. You see dragons were supposed to hoard gold in some form or other and all Puff had were strings, sealing wax, and other fancy stuff, none of which were g...
Submitted to Contest #103
So here they were barreling down the highway in the middle of nowhere. Now, I’m sure that those who lived here would take exception to being called nowhere, but from their car window all that could be seen for miles and miles were grass, soil, and hills as far as the horizon. It had been this way for the last two hours. Wyoming was like that. “Sure glad we filled up the tank back at that last stop,” Jack said, turning a sideways glance at his daughter in the passenger seat. “Me too,” she agree...
Submitted to Contest #100
Our story starts with a man puttering in a kitchen. Let’s call him Michael, once the most popular male name in America. Michael is preparing a very special meal for his wife. Let’s call her Susan. It is their forty-fifth wedding anniversary. Michael is fast approaching his seventieth birthday, the age where you max out your social security benefits but non-max just about everything else in your life. The age where you hesitate and second think your own mores and abilities as social and technological changes occur. The age where you can clear...
Submitted to Contest #86
The flowers stopped arriving in early December, nearly four months after her husband, Harry, had succumbed to the Coronavirus. Harry had been a robust man of sixty-four who still maintained a full head of hair, albeit bordering on white. Leah, his wife, would call him her Silver Fox and after forty years of marriage it still made him blush. Erect back and spry steps gave him the appearance of a younger man, but he knew that even a few years younger was still old. No matter, he intended to keep working till h...
Submitted to Contest #84
He always thought of himself as clever. He had an odd sense of humor that leaned towards the dark but it amused him, if not always others, and that was, after all, what was really important wasn’t it? He would write the occasional story and poem and feel satisfied at a particular turn of phrase or description. His wife loved getting handwritten poems on special occasions and he felt he was doing his part to stick it to Hallmark and their overpriced cards. The blog began simply to give him a place to vent and rant at the irrational, the polit...
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