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David D'EttoreUser

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Oct, 2019

Stories (40)

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40 Stories

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The Yesterday of Tomorrow

David D'EttoreUser

Submitted to Contest #305

THE YESTERDAY OF TOMORROW The room is unfamiliar. I don’t know how I got here. Another place, another day where the feeling of betrayal replaced what is familiar to me, what is important. I shivered as I left the shower and began my morning ritual minus a hot cup of coffee and a glazed donut. Some might mistake me for a cop, but not for long. I hate that everything I cherish and have experienced will be erased when I die. I’m sixty-five years old. I have lived longer than I have left to live. Most of the time, I don’t think about it. Yet, th...

1 like

ANGEL

David D'EttoreUser

Submitted to Contest #304

ANGEL Every spring carries with it an aura of promise. The newness can be seen in the tree blossoms, the crocuses lifting their heads above the ground to breathe new air, and the melodic chirping of birds whose song had been stifled by the cold winter. None of this is new, but rather a renaissance of what had occurred many times before. I looked forward to springtime. This one felt different and I was approaching it with hope. Writing has always been my passion and over the last two years, it fell back into my life like an old ...

8 likes

The Wrong Side of Nowhere

David D'EttoreUser

Submitted to Contest #301

THE WRONG SIDE OF NOWHERE It was a lazy afternoon, one of those hot and humid days when people look for a cool place and a cold drink and dogs seek out the shade to lie down and not move unless they have to. Danny Weston pushed open the dusty tavern door and scanned the premises as he headed to the end of the bar. Not many people he observed. Two people were at the bar. Two others were playing pool. A third group sat in a nearby booth. He liked it that way…not many witnesses. The bartender came over. “What can I g...

3 likes

Standing on Tradition

David D'EttoreUser

Submitted to Contest #299

STANDING ON TRADITION “Why are you standing on your head?” I tried to look up and focus on the person asking the question. He was small man with a thin mustache that appeared to be painted above his lip. He had a squeaky voice, the kind that reminds one of the little whiners back in grade school who used to wipe their noses with their sleeves and then touch everything within touching distance with their slimy, germ-ridden paws and say they didn’t feel good. I hesitated to correct him on his terminology referencing my posture...

7 likes

Black is the New Orange

David D'EttoreUser

Submitted to Contest #292

Black is the New Orange I’m sitting in a landscape, a canvas of color created by an artist of unknown dimension.  It is not a painting but rather a tapestry of life.  A chill wind brushes across my face.  A blanket wrapped around me serves as warmth. My thoughts, as I savor the vista, bring indescribable joy to my being.   There is no one to talk with except the sky.  An eagle soars by, not intent on prey, just gliding on the wind that keeps it aloft.  I’m glad I am here alone, at ...

3 likes

A Lost Friend

David D'EttoreUser

Submitted to Contest #291

A LOST FRIEND             The last time I saw Marise was in Paris during the spring of 1971.  Something happened then that is still not clear in my mind, or at least what I have left of my mind.  Something that, to this day, I cannot forget.            Winter stayed long that year, reaching well into May, leaving mounds of dirty snow in shaded areas of the city.  A chill pervaded even sunny day...

9 likes

The Yesterday of Tomorrow

David D'EttoreUser

Submitted to Contest #289

THE YESTERDAY OF TOMORROW The room is unfamiliar. I don’t know how I got here. Another place, another day where the feeling of betrayal replaced what is familiar to me, what is important. I shivered as I left the shower and began my morning ritual minus a hot cup of coffee and a glazed donut. Some might mistake me for a cop, but not for long. I hate that everything I cherish and have experienced will be erased when I die. I’m sixty-five years old. I have lived longer than I have left to live. Most of the time, I don’t think about it. Yet, th...

20 likes

Streaming

David D'EttoreUser

Submitted to Contest #286

Streaming  I will be forgotten.  It’s inevitable regardless of what vestiges I leave behind.  For those reading this, you will be forgotten too, no matter how important you think you are, how many buildings are named after you, or how much money you have.  Yes, you will be forgotten as well.  However, I begin by focusing on myself.I was recently rummaging through old photos as many tend to do when cleaning closets, attics, and other forgotten places.  I see photos filling a shoebox i...

7 likes

ETERNITY

David D'EttoreUser

Submitted to Contest #280

ETERNITY “The ambulance is here for you.”            I heard a voice and there was a bright light, but nothing else.  “What do you mean?” I asked.  “I don’t see an ambulance and there’s no one around.”            “That’s because you’re dead,” the voice replied.            I was stunned for a moment until I realized that I had no feeling. &...

6 likes

ANGEL

David D'EttoreUser

Submitted to Contest #276

ANGEL            Every spring carries with it an aura of promise.  The newness can be seen in the tree blossoms, the crocuses lifting their heads above the ground to breathe new air, and the melodic chirping of birds whose song had been stifled by the cold winter.  None of this is new, but rather a renaissance of what had occurred many times before.            I looked forward to springtime.  &...

9 likes

A MATTER OF LIVING

David D'EttoreUser

Submitted to Contest #270

A MATTER OF LIVING1 As he struggled to consciousness, Jack Corbin felt the burning of sweat rolling into his eyes. Where am I? Slowly, his vision cleared. He was in a basement, stone walls smelling of mildew, and cobwebs hanging from the ceilings. His hands and feet were shackled and he was strapped in a chair reminiscent of a throne, or perhaps the electric chair.  He tried to re-construct the events that preceded his awakening.  He had met with Dutch, supposedly an informant for the Rochester Police Department...

9 likes

ANGEL

David D'EttoreUser

Submitted to Contest #266

ANGEL            Every spring carries with it an aura of promise.  The newness can be seen in the tree blossoms, the crocuses lifting their heads above the ground to breathe new air, and the melodic chirping of birds whose song had been stifled by the cold winter.  None of this is new, but rather a renaissance of what had occurred many times before.            I looked forward to springtime.  &...

13 likes

A LOST FRIEND

David D'EttoreUser

Submitted to Contest #260

A LOST FRIEND             The last time I saw Marise was in Paris during the spring of 1971.  Something happened then that is still not clear in my mind, or at least what I have left of my mind.  Something that, to this day, I cannot forget.            Winter stayed long that year, reaching well into May, leaving mounds of dirty snow in shaded areas of the city.  A chill even pervaded sunny day...

4 likes

THE YESTERDAY OF TOMORROW

David D'EttoreUser

Submitted to Contest #259

THE YESTERDAY OF TOMORROW I hate that everything I cherish and have experienced will be erased when I die. I’m seventy-five years old. I have lived longer than I have left to live. Most of the time, I don’t think about it. Yet, there are other times when I dwell on it with an uneasy fear that there are things I will never do again. The frailty of the human mind is an enemy of the soul. The sun had found its way through the half-open drapes, bringing a sliver of brightness into the room. There was a knock at the door. I put on my coat and st...

2 likes

A PLACE ON THE HILL

David D'EttoreUser

Submitted to Contest #256

A PLACE ON THE HILL            Jack Thomas strode from the bullpen across the outfield grass.  The pitching mound was all he saw, oblivious to the crowd and its raucous mood.  It seemed so far away. It was tough being a rookie in New York City, having to learn the hitters and finer points of pitching.  Add to that expectations of New York fans and media for the large contract he received.  Yet, what made it more difficult was replacing the ico...

4 likes

Author bio

David D’Ettore was born in Rochester, NY and graduated from the University of Notre Dame. He studied as part of the university’s international program in Angers, France and returned to live in Paris, France where he nurtured his writing avocation.

He has had his poems and a short story published. An abridged version of a short story, “Fallen Leaves” was published by Not Your Mother’s Breast Milk (NYMBM). NYMBM also published two of his poems, “The Salvation Armoire”, and As the Line Moves Along.” Coffin Bell Journal published his poem, “A Leper’s Lament” in its The Immortals edition.

In addition, the author has written two novels; a parody; a short story collection; a poetry collection; two memoirs; and a multitude of essays. His short story collection, Moments of Our Lives, includes both “Fallen Leaves” and “The Last Time I Saw My Father,” a story which received Honorable Mention in a Glimmer Train contest. He writes a blog, DD’s Blog Universe at www.domingnd71.wordpress.com.

He participated in James Patterson’s Master Class which generated a short story collection that includes “Fallen Leaves” and the Writer’s Digest Writing to Sell Fiction course. He is a member of the local chapter of Writers and Books as well.