David O'Mahony

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Aug, 2023

Stories (5)

5 Stories

120 karma pts

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“Old Things Made New Again” by David O'Mahony

Submitted to Contest #225

Ben’s hair was a mess. Blown about by the gale and four weeks overdue a good trim, it looked like an abandoned bird’s nest. Where had all the grey come from? Christ above, he said to himself, running his fingers through it. When did you get old? “Help you with anything sir?” Ben jumped. At his elbow was a small man with a sun-bronzed face and a half smile dancing around his lips. Stooped by age, his scalp was blotched and scarred from being out in all weathers. With trousers and forest green waistcoat, he looked exactly the kind of man ...

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“The Other Side of the Wall” by David O'Mahony

Submitted to Contest #219

Old Man Tompkins was swinging in the breeze. Just a gentle back and forth, creaking and swaying. His neck hadn’t broken. He had fought and fought for those last couple of minutes until, in the blink of an eye, he crossed the boundary between being a man and just a shell. Still, it helped to think of him as Old Man Tompkins, even if he had been hanged as a thief and a murderer. Francis thought he might go mad otherwise. He had to pass the gallows on Knott Street four, sometimes six times a day depending on where he needed to ferry messages, a...

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“You Have to Go Back” by David O'Mahony

Submitted to Contest #216

Stephen traced a finger through the condensation on the window. It was already warm in here compared to the drizzle drumming on the glass outside, and the humidity was making it worse. He drew two eyes and an upside down arc, then obliterated it with his palm. The water was refreshing, but the crush of numbers and rising tumult around him was overbearing. He closed his eyes and let himself cover his ears just for a second, not long enough for anybody to notice he was trying to block them all out. The horde of the faceless, bundled up i...

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“What Gets Left Behind” by David O'Mahony

Submitted to Contest #215

It was a hard thing, being dead. Watching the rise and fall of the seasons without the heat of the sun on your face or the chill of a winter storm. Seeing the world change in flashes and cutscenes but with time standing still. Growing attached to the people living in your house (he always thought of them as lodgers) only to find them suddenly grown or gone. Most of all, Art just felt so very, very tired. Whenever he manifested, it was with a feeling of immense sadness, and with the basement door at his back. He could go anywhere in the...

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“Life for a life” by David O'Mahony

Submitted to Contest #215

Conway stood with the other parishioners, a thick crowd pressing in on each other and reeking of ostentatious piety and desperation. The decrepit church wasn't the biggest, but droves forced their way in from Carey's Lane every Sunday. A man six feet away was coughing as if his life depended on it, and maybe it did. Cholera had ripped through Cork a little more than ten years ago, carrying away thousands, including three of Conway's children. Now famine stalked the countryside, and scores of skeletal people draped in rags crammed the q...

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Author bio

David O'Mahony is an Ireland-based experienced copy editor whose first love is writing, specialising in horror as well as non-fiction. He has an array of bylines for reviews and opinion pieces at irishexaminer.com and blogs at davidomahony.ie