Don Gilman

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jan, 2021

Stories (5)

5 Stories

84 karma pts

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“Tests of Sojourn” by Don Gilman

Submitted to Contest #101

TW: gore, ritual sacrifice Sojourn held the dagger lightly in hand, his palm wet, slick and damp from the knowing, the understanding of what he had to do. And with this course do I set the wheels of fate in motion. Below him, on the stone slab, the boy writhed at his bonds, tied to the platform by four thick iron loops: right arm, left arm, right leg, left. Clad only in a loincloth, his pale skin, like Sojourn’s was slick with sweat, but for the opposite reason. Bound together, the two of them, this action would end the boy’s life and inexor...

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“Bread Becomes Flesh” by Don Gilman

Submitted to Contest #100

The chair ground sharply, whining, screeching against the red-tiled floor of the Cassandra Inn as Gregor pulled it away from the small bleakwood square of their table. He bowed gallantly and offered her the seat with a sweep of his long arms. Judy gritted her teeth and shuddered as her date offered her the chair. Gregor knew it would bother her. He’d done it on purpose, the cad. She smiled demurely and sat down, smoothing out her floral print blue dress with its blossoms of rose and mag and peach against her legs. She liked the way the cotto...

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“Secretum Testimonii” by Don Gilman

Submitted to Contest #81

The date really took a turn when Seb pulled the gun. It had been going so well, too. He returned from the bathroom with a confident smile on his lovely face, all cheekbones and chin and brown skin, that cocksure Big City Native shining through and through. If you know you know. His dark hair was pulled up high and bunched in curls, oiled and teased into a perfect coif, high fashion for the time. He wore a wide-lapeled burgundy suit with the fat checked tie, a silver bird brooch and pleated gray trousers. His feet dazzled in shining der...

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“Prophet with a Capital P” by Don Gilman

Submitted to Contest #78

We stood in the great hall of Hannel House, myself - Roger Bristol - surrounded by ten of the 231 NS Combat Division, standing in a semi-circle, blades out, the techsteel glowing blue, aqua, red and purple, each color and hum matching with the unique soundpitch of a specific soldier. The men and women of the division held their swords (called Kiri-Katana) in the modified ready stance of the ancient samurai, two hands wrapped around the intricate handles, held at just-below-shoulder height to their right or left sides, dominant hand dependin...

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“Return to Splendor” by Don Gilman

Submitted to Contest #77

When Tara thought of snow, she saw blood. So silly. Obviously they were nothing alike: One red, one white, one warm, one cold, but beyond there was purity in each, a basic component, a reduction of things to their elemental nature that made them similar. And to think it was that ridiculous fight she’d gotten into with Hank and Linda - Hank, hubby of ten years and Linda, best friend from high school - that led to this moment: hand on the frozen brass door knob, staring out the window at the winter diorama that had been laid down overnig...

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Author bio

Lives in the desert. Is mad mad mad