Brain Changer

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Mar, 2021

Stories (4)

4 Stories

82 karma pts

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“Freddy Frog Eyes” by Brain Changer

Submitted to Contest #195

Freddy Frog Eyes The shooter came on a Tuesday, right after lunch. Nobody knew about it until they heard the shot that hit the shoulder of Mrs. White, the art teacher. Only one of the kids would be able to guess that the cartridge was nine millimeter. Scenic View Elementary School had performed active shooter drills once a month ever since the incident at the high school. Most kids didn’t listen any more. Freddy did. Freddy Winters was too serious for a twelve-year-old. “An old soul,” Mrs. Bumble called him. Straight A’s. He never smiled....

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“A Town with Many Secrets” by Brain Changer

Submitted to Contest #168

In March of 1901, the Durango train blew one long whistle as it chugged into snow-covered Silverton. Young minister Jonathan Farley analyzed the oily-haired gambler running his finger along the newspaper lines describing how Choynski knocked out Johnson in the third round. A faded green silk waistcoat under a pink dress jacket with shiny elbows hinted that he was on a losing streak. Farley wanted to save him from the gambling life. He followed the finger over the page again. Familiar with the game himself, he smiled at the skills of the smal...

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“Auld Patsy” by Brain Changer

Submitted to Contest #87

The rotten house of Auld Patsy had one big window facing Cracker Street. Nine-year-old Tuley cocked her head to watch his long fingers place—in the second box on the third window bar—an unpainted wooden girl, next to the brown cow with a gold bell. His black eyes twinkled at her, then his head jerked back to the doll. He raised several wrinkles along his bony nose. Lifting the doll, he pinched it with his penknife. He blew the shaving away and placed it back on the shelf, then moved the cow to the other side, then back again to the first pla...

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“Like a Toad Among Tulips” by Brain Changer

Submitted to Contest #86

Like a toad among tulips the man had his right hand in the pocket of a brown tweed jacket looking too warm because everyone else looked like May flowers.Sharon felt for her pistol. And the tracker.Her photographer mind clicked on. He might be the man, now feigning interest in a shovel, nodding at the clerk in the booth while glancing at the woman with the grade-school girl throwing tennis balls toward a stack of plastic garden gnomes.What’s he playing with in that pocket? She measured the crowd. 75 or 80 maybe. Mostly families. Lots of kids....

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