Chuck Thompson

“Touchstone” by Chuck Thompson

Submitted to Contest #269

They came and took my flesh. Here for millions of their lifetimes, they came to me with anticipation, trepidation and an innate need to possess what was not theirs. Forty-seven plus pounds of Moon stuff was delivered to the NASA lab back in 1969. Those guys spent less than an Earth day on the Moon. They put all that Moon stuff into sample bags and then into their Special Environmental Sample Container that protected the samples from Earthlings’ contamination. Over the years, tons of Moon stuff have been picked up, core-drilled out ...

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“Forgive Me” by Chuck Thompson

Running down the rough brick side road in his Bali village, six-year-old Mas fought to get his kite aloft. Multiple attempts later, the tail was just right. The kite took flight with the right amount of running and wind. He was proud and his mother, secretly watching from the kitchen window, was proud for him. That night after Mas went to bed, she told Dewa, his father and her husband, about Mas’s efforts with the pride that only a loving mother can exude. Dewa laughed as she wove the tale of excitement, anxiety, labor, d...

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“The End in One Act” by Chuck Thompson

Submitted to Contest #257

Act One One lane cobblestone street running north and south, this night about 2:00 A.M. A sidewalk and store fronts on one side of the street providing dim light onto the street, two-story red brick wall without windows and with locked windowless doors to access the rear of shops on the other side of the street. MAKEDA, late teens to early twenties female, wearing chucks, a grayish hoody and blue jeans, is sprawled supine on the road feet toward the sidewalk, unconscious.           &n...

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“Old Tech” by Chuck Thompson

Submitted to Contest #236

“You call this technology?” Captain was taken aback by the vehemence of the query from the room. “Captain, Old One requests an audience with you and the other captains.” “What does it want?” Captain knew Old One from stories his predecessor told him. No one could tell him if Old One was male or female or even StarOne. “It says it has a story for you. An old story.” In its hooded shimmering gray cloak, Old One stood a head above the others. Broader across the shoulders than even the strongest warrior, it stood tal...

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“Nana” by Chuck Thompson

Submitted to Contest #211

It was the mewling that caught her ear. Outside the normal range of library vocals, it was haunting and slightly sad. It set her on a hunt. Connie woke this morning rested and with a sense of anticipation. It was a great way to start the day! Life and work became a tad stale lately and she questioned her purpose, her possibilities and all her decisions in life. It was a recurring theme for her. So many questions and virtually no answers. At least, no answers that satisfied her desire for meaning and tangible goal...

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“Linguist” by Chuck Thompson

Submitted to Contest #210

I am a fan of physics, math and science fiction. I have seen multiple scripts imagined by the sci-fi greats. I know the symbology of physics and mathematics. I even know some of the ancient scripts including a smattering of Egyptian hieroglyphics and the symbology of petroglyphs and such. About ten years ago, divers discovered what became known as the “porpoise school” off the coast of Cuba. A year after the discovery, National Geographic had a multi-page glorious color presentation of the find. A series of structu...

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“His Eyes” by Chuck Thompson

Submitted to Contest #210

My trial began in the usual way. “Hear ye, hear ye. All rise.” “The Honorable Llewelyn Magee presiding. You may sit.” Magee is one of their elders. Some told me he is the eldest elder. He is still tall and vibrant, but his skin has taken on the cast of the dying; gray, wrinkled, going translucent. His eyes bely his aged appearance. Fiery, alert, piercing, focused, terrifying to the accused, horrifying to the guilty. The guilty see their fate in his eyes. They never see mercy. We’re not much of a town...

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“She” by Chuck Thompson

Submitted to Contest #206

Ever been eye to eye with a rattlesnake? Ever realized the rattlesnake was on its tail looking you in the eye? Ever been so close to a rattler that you can hear it breathe?  I live in the desert; have all my life. On a hike or just a walk through the land, I’ve met every kind of desert creature. One creature always scared me: rattlesnakes.  Rattlesnakes come in a variety of colors: green, blue, brown, black with silver diamonds, red or a combination of colors. It does not matter to me; they all scared m...

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“Frank's Process” by Chuck Thompson

Submitted to Contest #205

My mom was special. She tolerated so much more than I could. I was about five when I remember her protecting me from a bad guy she brought home from wherever she went and found the bad guys. We had a process after that. She would unlock and open the door and close it again so she would have to unlock it again. This caused her to stall coming through the door just long enough for me to hide whenever she brought a bad guy home. “Why bring bad guys home?” I asked one morning. She explained they paid a lot more than ...

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“My Friend Frank” by Chuck Thompson

Submitted to Contest #202

We became friends after my disappearance. Frank was paid to rend me from my body and then to disappear said body. I objected. Strenuously. Why he didn’t just stand back and shoot me still puzzles me. I’m pretty sure it puzzles him on occasion. That night he magically appeared at my bedside just like in a zillion bad guy movies. Luckily for me, I am a very light sleeper and he mis-stepped just enough to make a slight noise. I awoke, saw a shape in the nightlight-lit room and rolled away. He walked across th...

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“Gossip?” by Chuck Thompson

Submitted to Contest #200

Gossip. What a delicious word, a fulfilling word; perfect for a habit or a goal.  For me, it started in second grade. Tom Evans, poor kid, had crossed eyes, buck teeth, and bad breath. I asked Marcie Smith if it was true that he ate mice for breakfast before coming to school. Was that why he had buck teeth like a mouse and why his breath was so nasty? Was it rotting mice flesh? I laughed to watch her point at Tom from across the playground and shock her friends with tales of the nastiness in which Tom partook....

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“Balinese Beauty” by Chuck Thompson

Submitted to Contest #199

Lita was a gorgeous woman. Scapula-length straight glowing ebony hair, tanned smooth skin, perfect pearly teeth, with the nose of a Javanese goddess, straight, petite, thin. About five feet tall, she wore heels that made her at least 5’2”. Dressed in the merchant’s uniform of gray slacks, yellow long-sleeved blouse and gray vest, she worked in the Denpasar International Airport’s duty-free shopping area. She dealt with thousands of tourists and at least hundreds of men like Steve.   She talked him into buying severa...

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“Chariot” by Chuck Thompson

Submitted to Contest #196

He died. Well, not right away. It was a process that took time, several twists and the unexpected. Sitting on his front porch, relaxed in his wicker porch swing, staring blankly into that much-belabored middle distance, a stunningly fast minivan-sized shimmer barreled at him from his right. Several years ago, in Bali, our porch swing guy was known in a wonderful circle that included tourists from several Asian countries and myriad belief systems. And these strangers loved him. As he strolled through touristy parts of Ubu...

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“Boundary” by Chuck Thompson

Submitted to Contest #117

Boundary I watch. And wait. And get excited. Few folks imagine I am here. Fewer know that I am here. None know me and what I really do. Your old folklore describes me as evil, a darkness that invades your world. An unsettled soul damned and bent on destruction of all that is good and light. Such a negative image…. I came to be at time naught. I remember that first blink, instant consciousness. There were an infinite number of us at that first blink. There was light and us; that was it.&n...

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“Scot” by Chuck Thompson

Submitted to Contest #41

I don’t know where I am.Cat and I were patrolling the yard. Now I am here. Makes no sense. A tad spooky, I think.Dad died 18 months ago, and we all miss him. After about six months, Mom quit crying every day. The rest of us followed suit after a few more weeks. That doesn’t diminish our missing him; it just saves us some energy each day. Energy we can use to patrol the yard or wonder what he’s doing now.Mom told us all that Dad got sick on a plane, went to a hospital in a strange town, spent a few days there, di...

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