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Bonnie Clarkson

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Nov, 2020

Stories (40)

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62 Followers

23 Following

40 Stories

676 karma pts

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MCP-5

Bonnie Clarkson

Submitted to Contest #82

      Captain Nick Lasiter rubbed his eyes, yawned, and gave up designing his computer chip for now. He stood to stretch. After two years working on the Microchip Prototype 5 – MCP-5 for short – he believed he would finish in three weeks. His job consisted of integrating into the chip all the different departments’ components and designing a computer-body interface. Maybe a promotion would be in store for him. Surely, his work would give him national recognition.        &n...

14 likes

One Day Spat

Bonnie Clarkson

Submitted to Contest #81

Katrina wore an emerald green dress and her signature four inch high heels. Her shoulder length wavy, strawberry-blonde dyed hair had just a touch of gray. Looking at her no one would believe she was a seventy-year-old grandmother. Her husband, Russell Driscoll, had salt and pepper hair. His rugged build and moustache reminded her of Tom Selleck.           Russell and Katrina sat together while listening to the preacher. He explained the concepts of forgiveness, Jesus’ peace that passes ...

15 likes

Relocation and the Big Lie

Bonnie Clarkson

Submitted to Contest #80

During rousing John Philip Sousa music, the TV screen interrupted the Independence Day Fireworks Celebration with “Special Report” in the largest blue font possible on a red background. Soon the screen switched to the news anchorman in a dark blue suit with a red, white, and blue striped tie. At the news desk, he stared straight at the camera while speaking.            “I am Jaden Kelley, your news anchorman here at KXXY station. We interrupt the Independence Day Fireworks Celebration to...

9 likes

The Spirit of the Father

Bonnie Clarkson

Submitted to Contest #79

The sound of the circular saw filled the room. The 32-year-old man stopped to enjoy the smell of the fresh sawdust and lumber. The father exuded good health with an athletic form and not an ounce overweight. On the floor beside the father, Sandy—a red-headed six-years-old—searched for something to go with his wooden blocks. What he found was a board mounted on legs. He placed it beside his blocks. With a mallet, he pounded the circular block in the round hole and the square block in the square hole. Daddy, pleased at what he considered a ...

13 likes

Half the Truth

Bonnie Clarkson

Submitted to Contest #76

Trigger warning: mentions of alcohol abuse            I’m ready to throw my cell phone against the wall.            After a week of bad reception, I returned to the store where I bought it.            “What can I help you with?” asked the clerk.            “I’ve had this cell phone thirty-one days, and the person I’m calling ...

13 likes

Two Year Old

Bonnie Clarkson

Submitted to Contest #76

THOONK! The horn yanked my gaze from the window to the windshield, now almost full of a semi-truck and trailer. The sight compelled my lungs to suck in deeply. The driver barely missed us by swerving around us. Mother swerved to the right and slammed to a stop. My mother had driven halfway into his lane.               “Didn’t you see him coming?” I fumed. “It’s incredible we didn’t have an accident.” While Mother’s hands were still glued to the steering wheel, I lunged toward t...

13 likes

Thanksgiving Versus Pride

Bonnie Clarkson

This is an allegory of a boxing match between Thanksgiving and Pride. It is written as if it was reported on a radio station. Blows and punches are given names. I hope it fits the definition of all dialogue. ANNOUNCER: This is it. The fight of fights of the year. The fight is between heavyweights, Thanksgiving and Pride, who will punch, pound, and pummel each other to see who wins the prize. We talked to Pride in the locker room and here is what he said. ANNOUNCER: Are you sure you are ready for this fight? PRIDE: Never been fitter. I...

9 likes

Making a Connection

Bonnie Clarkson

Submitted to Contest #73

Making a Connection “Father, are you home?” Coming in the door, Leigh Covington the athletic, blond, thirty-year-old and Tony, her autistic, eight-year-old son, came into the house holding hands.   “Merry Christmas, Father!” Leigh dropped Tony’s hand. She held out her arms to embrace her father, while the child stood at the center of the room and stared at the ceiling. “I have a special gift for you.” The door opened and Leigh’s husband Willard Covington, strong and tall, built like a football player, drug in a bushy Christmas tr...

12 likes

Idorean

Bonnie Clarkson

Submitted to Contest #72

“Christopher’s Personal Idorean Device here. You will want pizza for tonight.” “Thanks for telling me. I’m ready for the recipe you picked out.” Twenty-two-years-old, away from my mother, and the P.I.D. makes the living easy. I like my hair short, but I’ll wait until the program predicts when I want it cut. I do like the new autumn colored shirt it said I would buy. It makes my brown eyes appear larger. Before starting the pizza, the doorbell rang. I sighed when I saw who it was. “I had a prediction you would be home now, Mr. O’Brian,” ...

13 likes

Priorities

Bonnie Clarkson

Submitted to Contest #67

Priorities My footsteps echoed in the rotunda chamber of the capitol. I looked around and then at my feet. Footsteps. Footsteps of great democratic leaders walked here: Henry Clay, John C. Calhoun, and. John F. Kennedy. Here I am, a democrat representative, hoping to follow in the footsteps of those great leaders. I imagined great hopes at that time. Footsteps, echoing as mine had, made it impossible to sneak up on me. It was my frenemy Republican Representative James Beckett. “Well, Representative. Keven Montigo,” he said. “How does i...

14 likes