David Ader

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Dec, 2020

Stories (45)

45 Stories

1054 karma pts

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“Worth His Weight in Gold” by David Ader

Submitted to Contest #204

The saloon doors swung open followed by a frigid wind and a quick accumulation of snow. A rude chorus amounted to a demand for the stranger to shut the doors. He did so, taking his time, and brushed the snow off his fur hat and shoulders. In the heat of the room, warmed by a blazing cast iron stove, the melting ice on his long beard dripped to the floor. The saloon stunk of stale cigars, cheap whiskey, and filthy miners. “Well if it ain’t Stonewall Jackson himself,” said a black mustache with a man behind it. He was leaning ba...

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“In Counter” by David Ader

Submitted to Contest #203

It was only a coffee. Could it have been any simpler? Decaf with skim milk and Stevia. They didn’t have Stevia; they only had Sweet n’ Lo. No big deal, she’d said. Fine, the waitress replied. Fine, again. Why had she had to say fine twice? Jenn wasn’t that hungry, and she told the waitress as much. The waitress asked twice, Can I get you anything else? And twice Jenn said, No thank you. Twice. The first time she said it with a smile. No thank you, I’m not hungry. &...

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“A Winter’s Walk” by David Ader

Submitted to Contest #202

It was just the two of them, trudging along for what felt like an eternity. They walked that first night and hid the next day. At some point they’d given up on trying to hide; there was no one to hide from. The weather had been kind enough at the beginning; cold, not too cold, and kind of dry. Until today. A thick fog had come in, heavy and wet, and there was a rumble off in the distance. And flashes. Lightening maybe. Or guns. Probably guns. It was getting really cold, that d...

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“C’est la Vie” by David Ader

Submitted to Contest #199

The ancient vendor lifted a plastic sheet from his wares that lay on top of an even more ancient, if that was possible, drab blanket. Ashes fell from his reeking Gauloises onto the faded US initials in one corner of the blanket. The old man looked up, his eyes hooded in the sort of contempt you’d expect from a dusty peasant trying to eke out a living with a display of mostly junk to a goofy, smiling, and obviously, American tourist. “Hi,” said Mark. “I mean ‘bon jour’” At least he was trying. The tourist guide said the French appreciated i...

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“A Brush With History” by David Ader

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #198

It was a bitter winter that year, 1954. The coldest that century, they said, and fifteen-year-old Ernie Remsen was freezing; the layers of sweaters underneath his blue cotton mechanic’s jacket, a “Texaco” patch on the breast, couldn’t keep out the chill. Sal was the name embroidered over the left pocket. Ernie didn’t know Sal but was grateful he’d donated it to the church rummage sale. It was almost better than nothing. Still, Ernie had stol...

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“A Day in the Life of Gus Peterman” by David Ader

Submitted to Contest #197

Gus Peterman had the rest of his days ahead to look forward to. Both of them. Of course, that wasn’t much of a surprise. Once you’re diagnosed with terminal cancer, once you’ve gone through the whole denial, bargaining thing, you’re left with a case of “yeah-I-get-it “and choose how you’re going to live what’s left. Then there’s that final phase, that final bout, when you’re in hospice and everything’s sort of a...

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“A Virtual Life” by David Ader

Submitted to Contest #196

We all have regrets. Coulda, woulda, shoulda…fill in the blank. It drives some people into insanity. Or into therapy. Or worse. Coulda, woulda, shoulda. Shoulda is the worst of the trio. I should have done this, but I did that, and look where it got me. Where is not the preferred place or you wouldn’t have asked the question in the first place. The ideal was a life well-lived, no regrets, and a long look in the ...

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“Scarecrow & Dorothy” by David Ader

Submitted to Contest #195

Some people said good night or words to that effect. Some nodded their heads as if acknowledging my humanity. A couple of young things smiled, almost shyly, and hurried out. I figured they felt guilty or something that I was there, and would be all night, while they were off doing what young things do. I don’t know, shop, gym, meeting friends. They never got past the nod which was fine by me. Most, though, like overwhelmingly most, didn’t bother with a smile, or a nod, let alo...

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“The Hobby Shop” by David Ader

Submitted to Contest #192

“I won’t be too long,” said his wife. “I’ll meet you back in…say…45 minutes. Tops. Don’t be late again. Not in this weather.” “Sure, sure,” he replied, edging back towards the car with three bundles of groceries in his arms. “What did I say?” she asked. He leaned over to put the bag...

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“A Serious Lucky Streak” by David Ader

Submitted to Contest #189

It was so terribly cold. Snow was falling, and it was almost dark. He was lucky to be inside somewhere, even in this place. The barn smelled of its occupants—a cow, a pig, half a dozen piglets, some chickens, and a swayback horse whose eyes were perpetually closed in the hope of being left to sleep. There was also the slightly sweet-sour smell of fermenting hay kept for the winter. They weren’t bad smells. They were farm smells, smells that reminded Willie of a day years before when his parents had taken him on a bus up to the Catskil...

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“You’re Using Too Much Water” by David Ader

Submitted to Contest #183

“You’re using too much water.” “What?” “I said, you’re using too much water!” “I can’t hear you. I’m in the shower!” “You’ve been in there for ages! You’re wasting water!!” Jack turned off the spigot, grabbed a towel, and said, “Woman, I can’t hear a word you’re saying. That shower is simply amazing. What’s up?” “You spend too much time in there. What are you doing? It’s just a waste of water.” Jack stared at her, not so much in amazement—though he felt that—but in recognition. He wanted to say, “Jenna, you do realize we’re on vacatio...

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“Gallows Hill” by David Ader

Submitted to Contest #181

In the old days, according to his people’s laws, it would have been perfectly fine to replace a relative who died with someone adopted into the family. That was especially the case if the relative had been murdered by a rival tribe. The tradition was straightforward. If justice was demanded, you would take the life of an enemy or take someone, preferably a child, as an adoptee. It had been that way since time began. All the groups, the tribes, understood this. Even the French did, those sour men in their lice-ridden black robes. But not Yan...

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“Forsooth Sayer” by David Ader

Submitted to Contest #176

Harry made suggestive gestures around the voluptuous crystal ball. Eyes rolled back into his head, he chanted words that could have been Arabic, he even invoked Allah, with a smattering of Hebrew he recalled from a Bar Mitzvah, but most were gibberish. The teenage trio at the table tried to hold back, biting their lips, but one couldn’t manage. “Dude, it’s like you’re grabbing a boob!” They fell into hysterics. Harry’s eyes rolled forward to glare. “It’s how I connect with the spirits,” he said, any trace ...

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“Greener Grass” by David Ader

Submitted to Contest #171

The realtor hadn’t yet removed the white post from the front lawn when she hooked on a new ‘for sale sign’ to the arm. Another commission on this house was on her mind, two in as many years and the price had risen 10% since she’d last sold it. She didn’t question the seller’s motivation; it wasn’t her business. She was, however, curious as to why Marvin Kaminsky would want to sell it. “So soon?” she commented when he called her. She’d expected some insight. &n...

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“Here Kitty Kitty” by David Ader

Submitted to Contest #169

He wished he’d thought more about that black cat when he first saw it earlier that morning. Black cats are bad omens, right? Maybe the omen was the cat itself, a ‘here kitty kitty’ gone very wrong. Now, though, as that morning led into the afternoon, he saw that cat again in front of him, staring and swishing its tail not five yards ahead. He knelt and held out his fingers, feigning the act of teasing a treat like he would do for a dog; he was not a cat person. ...

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Author bio

I love early American historical fiction and rediscovering writers like Kenneth Roberts. I've just reread "The Old American" by Ernest Hebert, an under-appreciated novel about a New England man captured in an Indian raid. Sensitive to all cultures involved. Also just finished "Act of Oblivion" by Robert Harris about two men in early New England on the run for their participation in the execution of Charles I. Fascinating and tremendous insight to a unique period in history. Me? Retired from a long career in the financial marketzzzzzz...I was, basically, an interest-rate strategist of some note. Now, following interests ranging from archaeology, fishing, mushrooms, staying healthy, and trying to write. PLEASE give me feedback. I'm thick-skinned and trying to improve!

Shortlisted 2 stories ⭐️

Contest #198

A Brush With History – read story

Contest #135

Oskar – read story