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Connie Elstun

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jul, 2020

Stories (18)

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41 Followers

45 Following

18 Stories

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Cheers to my Chagrin

Submitted to Contest #254

Much to my chagrin, The letter I hold in my hand is one more part of the strange occurrences here in my township of Niagra Crossing. The town sits on the shore where the Niagra meets the glory of our grandest Lake, hence its name. The mysterious letter arrived at midnight two weeks ago, and all the village milk goats were dead then. The first casualties were two tiny billys found torn to shreds. Then, more and more were found ravaged until all our goats were gone. And then a host of small farm animals just disappeared, leading to what w...

7 likes

Wishes

Submitted to Contest #253

“Hurry along, you awkward dimwit,” Jane said with her constant unforgiving tone. “Ild like to get over to the grill ASAP, Byron. You know today is Wednesday.”Byron looked at her with curious undertones. “What exactly does Wednesday have to do with it? We eat at Jasper’s grill every day, geez!” Jane answered in an almost friendly tone, “They have French Dip sandwiches, you backward behemoth. It's my favorite! So hurry up, you fatso, let's go!”Then Jane watched her coworker put his jacket on as her demeanor changed. He had one arm in the ...

8 likes

The Physician’s Reckoning

Submitted to Contest #252

I hear voices chattering. I cannot make out what they are saying; conceivably murder, perhaps, the clues are prevalent, I suppose. “Murder-suicide, most likely,” the Crone shouts out in an alto voice. It sounds like she has a tribe of ghouls at her side as they mumble, sometimes cooing delightfully. I do think it is Satan’s bride herself coxing me deeper and deeper into despair. Voltaire once wrote that every man is guilty of all the good he did not do. I assume he was thinking of young gentlemen who, like me, can start t...

11 likes

The Quinqennial Mourner

Submitted to Contest #221

I eternally rest in the Peaceful Forest Cemetery, right over the ridge from Walden, Colorado, and not too far from our homestead in the Sage Hen Springs settlement. I died precisely 5 minutes and 5 seconds after my son Charlie was born in our home on May 5th, 1900. My labor was difficult as I was already 35 years old. He is my only child. The Doctor tried and failed to stop my bleeding; he said, “It’s a boy, Charlemagne, it’s a boy.” That’s all I remember about the end of that life.But that’s not the end of my story; it’s merely the beginnin...

6 likes

The Unredeemed

Submitted to Contest #219

The early October snow started blowing sideways when Walt saw the outline of lime-green neon lights flickering in the distance. His intoxication was apparent when the words OPEN BAR looked crooked. The flashing green hue created a slight nausea as Walt yelled, “Now that's just what I was looking for and didn't even know it. Fuck Linda and all the bitches like her, I can appreciate this!”As a 38-year-old recently divorced guy, he shared his woes with whoever would listen, “Linda decided she would rather whore around with everyone in Geor...

10 likes

That’s when a strange thing happened

Submitted to Contest #160

The first time I ever saw a Witch was on the first day of school in September of 1931. It was a day of adjustments; being the new child at a one room school house and all. That Witch, was standing in her doorway with a broom, cackling at us. In the words of Mr. Baum, ‘that's when a strange thing happened.’You see, my brother Arnie and I had just made friends with some of the other children here in our new home of Cheyenne Wells, Colorado; they told us she was a Witch. Just saying the word ‘Witch‘ gave me entrance to their conversat...

7 likes

Road Games

Submitted to Contest #158

Cigarette smoke filled the air, soon followed by the aroma of reefer as the teens gathered at the small parking area by the river. The celebration was both for a birthday and a beer ritual known as a ‘kegger’.The party was cool, but all Tom Fink ‘really’ wanted for his 18th Birthday was to get laid. That’s when a pretty 17-year-old blonde named Mary Alright walked over. Tom knew as he watched her golden curls bounce off her unrestrained breasts-the summer of 1977 was about to get hot fast. “Hey, Tom baby, can I bum a smoke?” Mary asked ...

11 likes

Dink’s Famous Chili

Submitted to Contest #153

Dickson Richardson, the creator of Dink’s Famous Chili, remembered his days in isolated Meeker, Colorado, while waiting his turn to be interviewed by Willow Wild. Today her Colorado Wild talk show would feature Colorado’s most successful entrepreneurs and would air live on Denver cable. Being pampered by the crew who fixed his hair and put a dab of makeup on his sleep bags reminded Dickson of his 20-year-old caretaker days of his Uncle Hank. It seemed like a century had passed, but it had only been a few years back when times were fille...

12 likes

An infinite repetition

Submitted to Contest #151

The flickering of Christmas lights might have looked entirely out of place if not for the constant late spring rain storms and fog intrusion that made way along the foothills just outside the quaint town of Golden in Colorado. However, it was odd how the old string multicolor bulbs looked right at home amongst the ruin of the rundown old house.Young and curious Britney Marrs ritualistically noticed them. She said to herself one night on her way home from work, “What the Hell, curiosity killed the cat, but I must know why the lights are on ev...

15 likes

I-s-A-C

Submitted to Contest #143

My note read: “To whom it may concern, my name Is Ben Holcomb. By the time you read this, I will either be dead or found. I am missing from Colorado Springs, Colorado. Please call the police and my wife, Shelby Holcomb, at 933-4188. I am hurt and afraid and being held against my will in a cabin above Saints John-Please send help!”I hoped whoever found it will be able to read it as my handwriting was shaky and weak, emphasizing my un-sharpened pencil, and torn paper. I had kept the note in my underwear for days before putting it in a beer bot...

18 likes

Blame

Submitted to Contest #127

I ain’t never forgave my Ma for selling my pony; like she ain’t never forgiven me for not telling her sooner bout’ my brother’s injury. I hate to say this, but I’m missing that pony more than my little brother, but Pawpaw said it just ain’t right to feel that way.By the way, my name is Abigail Holts; I go by Abby. I’m twelve years old, and I now live on my Pawpaw’s Hereford Cattle Ranch thirty miles east of Wild Horse, Colorado. If you don’t know, that’s pretty much close to nowhere and HELL. Pardon my French; Pawpaw doesn’t like me saying H...

18 likes

A New Year Nirvana

Submitted to Contest #126

The Mercury Apartment building in downtown Greeley Colorado is usually, a quiet place for me and my Calico cat Bonkers to live, but tonight, the party noise is driving Bonkers, well, bonkers. Me too, as the crazy cat ran around my lumpy sofa fifty times before heading up the Christmas tree. Sally, what is wrong with you? I asked myself then answered, you're lazy, that's what -it's New Year's, and you still have your pathetic Christmas tree up in the corner. Generally, New Year's Eve is filled with jocose laughter and cele...

14 likes

The Resolution

Submitted to Contest #125

"My destiny has a lot to do with the old photograph I have in my carry-on. I'm giving it to my nephew for Christmas this year, and as a bonus, it has a story."I said this to the pretty young woman with the earphones on. She was seated beside me before she got up and moved over by the window. I did not follow.I waited a few moments more, and a young man, 30ish, sat down. I reached out my hand in a friendly fashion and said, "Frank Sullivan and your name?" No response, just crickets.I continued, "I'm only 71 years old; my antique body is ...

12 likes

Christmas at Midnight

Submitted to Contest #124

Working as an R.N. on Dementia Ward B makes it seem that a matutinal death is as commonplace as a pre-dawn birth. My dear sweet patient, Margaret Brown, joined Jesus on this early Christmas morning. I'm not sure if she extraordinarily left this world or not. I was there; I did see it, yet it all seemed like a dream. Maybe the old myth is true, Christmas at midnight is when heaven and earth meet.Margaret's story plays in my mind like the repetition of elevator-style Christmas tunes I have listened to all month; it’s most likely cemented into ...

19 likes

Doctor Frickle’s Mysterious Cabinet of Transmogrify

Submitted to Contest #123

Gentlemen, I observed my audience looking positively frabjous in their waiting that night; yes, I took a little peek from the red velvets right before showtime. Curiosity killed the cat, and my magic proficiency cannot hold a candle to Carroll's 71’-word invention of frabjous. What a wordsmith as his reading audience fell for his poppycock hook line and sinker; the same will be valid for me, the magician. I pulled my red velveteen curtain open and hooked it to the left. I began my well-rehearsed opening pat...

21 likes