Chris Buono

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jun, 2020

Stories (64)

64 Stories

1849 karma pts

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“Speech Anxiety” by Chris Buono

Submitted to Contest #54

    “Dammit!” Jerome shouted to himself in the mirror. A crumbled stack of three typed pages sat in his hand, resting on the bathroom counter talk.        Jerome had been standing at this position since nine o'clock in the morning and it seemed that he wasn’t going to be leaving the bathroom any time soon. Taking a deep breath and a swig straight from the bottle of bourbon he had taken into the room with him, Jerome lifted the pages to his chest. He read the words out loud, attempting to...

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“Lovers' Reunion” by Chris Buono

Submitted to Contest #54

I strutted up to the bar and ran my fingers through my hair. The strands were still oily with pomade and residue stuck to my hands as they pushed through my pompadour. Taking a seat set away from the crowd of barflies I ordered my usual- Irish whiskey with ginger beer.        “Here you go, hun,” the not unattractive female bartender said kind enough as she set the drink in front of me. “That’ll be six dollars please.”        “Here, keep the change,” I told her handing her ...

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“August Dread” by Chris Buono

Submitted to Contest #53

       I wake up around eight fifteen with my stomach in my throat. Almost throwing up while brushing my teeth, my mother asks if I’m okay when she hears me gagging over the toilet bowl. I won’t admit it, but everyone knows I’m nervous. Today is my last day home before I drive my old clunker four hours away to university. I should be excited and I was at one point, but the thought has been looming over me like a dark cloud on a sunny day for the past month.At first it was exciting. A small-town kid who’d ne...

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“Late Summer Day” by Chris Buono

Submitted to Contest #53

       My popsicle was almost completely melted now. The last orange lump of flavored ice had finally fallen off of the bland wooden stick and sat in the grass attracting ants. Sticky juice from the cold treat stuck to my hands uncomfortably like glue any time I moved my fingers. I attempted at chucking the popsicle stick into a trashcan, but the adhesive residue made it cling to my thumb for a second too long so that the object fell to the dusty floor with a tiny crash. I didn’t bother to pick it up. &nbsp...

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“Old Friendly Visitor” by Chris Buono

Submitted to Contest #52

       “Do you want to stay at my place tonight?” I asked.              “Nah, man,” Matty replied. He sounded calm in his voice, but his eyes showed fear.              “It’s no problem if you do, Matt, my mom will understand,” I tried to assure him, “Besides, my dad doesn’t have to work tomorrow so he can take us fishing in the morning down at Salmon Creek.”    &...

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“Deathly Voyage” by Chris Buono

Submitted to Contest #52

       No. I refuse to go. They cannot make me take part in this horrible lottery. Going to the moon, yeah right. That lottery is just death sentence to get rid of some low-income punk every year.              The selection was a contest to send someone to the moon for free ever since the satellite had become a getaway destination. A government-funded project to send up some unlucky bastard to earth’s night light in a tin can that has been out...

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“The Odd Grave” by Chris Buono

Submitted to Contest #51

       Andrew Baskin ambled up the hill to the lone grave marker at the top. The headstone was a seven-foot structure of cement that read Here Lies Elizabeth Crowfeather: “The Witch of Eston County”, with the dates Oct 31, 1812- Aug 4, 1874. The monument to the supposed witch sat as a lone sentry over the small town of Estherton, PA.  Of course, the town was a lot smaller fifty years ago when Andrew had first come to the grave.             &nb...

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“Star Gazing ” by Chris Buono

Submitted to Contest #51

Matthew Donahue and Terry Henderson laid in the grass in the middle of the vast field beneath an ocean of stars. The two fourteen-year-olds knew that they were too old to be star gazing, but it was still a pastime they enjoyed immensely. There was nothing better than spending a Friday night in mid-November spent admiring the tiny lights illuminating from the pitch-black sky. The field sat in the middle of a dense forest under the shadow of a hill just outside of the tiny town and acted as an almost sacred ground for the two boys and the rest...

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“Back on the Beat II” by Chris Buono

Submitted to Contest #50

       Tony De Fallimento kneeled in the base of the toilet, spilling lasagna and sprite nto the now dirty bowl. Thankfully, he was in the single-person washroom back-stage, or someone could have walked in on the old musician. A knock came at the door.              “Hey, Tony, we go on in twenty minutes,” the rhythm guitarist called from the other side.              “Alright, tha...

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“You Owe Me” by Chris Buono

Submitted to Contest #50

       “Come here, Jimmy! I just want to talk to ya!” Carmine “Big C” Lucchese hollered in his Bronx accent. It sounded more like I wanna twalk ta ya!              “Big C! I swear I didn’t steal from nobody,” James “Jimmy Ugatz” Carbone called over his shoulder in an equally thick accent. He started running.              “You dirty little-,” Carmine grunted through gritting teet...

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“Summer Ghost Story” by Chris Buono

Submitted to Contest #50

        August 23, 1964. James, Christopher, Stephen, and Marten sat along the walls of the old tree house built by the boys and their fathers five years before, sweating in the enclosed wooden box under the late summer sun.  The four twelve-year-olds were trying to enjoy their last bit of summer vacation before the start of school in early September. The thought of beginning seventh grade loomed over the juveniles like a storm cloud on a sunny day of fun.       &nbsp...

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“Waiting Conversation” by Chris Buono

Submitted to Contest #49

       Atticus Joyner check the small watch he wore around his wrist. Seven fifteen o’clock, he’d already been here an hour. It didn’t seem like anyone was coming anytime soon so he sat back in his chair and fidgeted his hands impatiently. What was supposed to be a simple trip to the ATM before a lonely dinner had become a temporary imprisonment.              The storm had come without warning. Arriving one minute then disappearing as quickly ...

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“From Whom to Where?” by Chris Buono

Submitted to Contest #49

Peter DeLuccio sat waiting for what could have been three hours to three hundred years in the train station. There was no way of telling what the day or time was since he’d discovered that the area lacked any clocks or calendars. The sun sat low in the west, giving a dull glow on the tracks that seemed to lead right into the orange-gold ball of light, but even that was no use in helping with determining the time since the sky had looked the same since Peter had arrived here.  Peter looked down and checked his ticket for the umpteenth t...

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“It's What I Do” by Chris Buono

Submitted to Contest #48

  Henry Wallace did not actively seek out people in need. To say they sought him out would not have been entirely correct also. The only way he could have explained it was that he just happened upon people in need and they upon him. Random impulses to check out a diner on the side of the road while driving or walking aimlessly until he saw where he was headed always ended in the same destination, regardless of location. It’s my superpower he joked in his head as he ambled along the park path, surely heading toward another human in ...

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“You're Doing It” by Chris Buono

Submitted to Contest #47

Suitcase in hand, you head to the station. Finally, after all these years, you were finally taking the leap and leaving. No more wallowing in wonder and daydreams. No longer having to listen to older folks and friends insist that you check out what life was like on the other side with a forlorn heart and a smiling mouth but sad eyes. No. You were doing this and you’re doing it now.  Gone were the days where you would have to embarrassingly confide in others on how much you wanted to leave and experience somewhere else. To go far away an...

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Author bio

Stay and have a drink, read a story maybe if you come across this page.