Eric Wharton

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Mar, 2020

Stories (4)

4 Stories

65 karma pts

?

“My Mojo” by Eric Wharton

Submitted to Contest #41

“No. I shouldn’t have allowed this. I’m done with your bullshit. You are to be at my house tonight, and you won’t be leaving again for the rest of the year. End of discussion.”The phone call with his father that morning echoed through his mind as they came over the hill into town. As lights came into view a million places he’d rather be flashed behind his eyes. Anywhere but where he was headed would do. Clif had no intention of obeying his fathers orders and returning home though, or of staying in town at all for that matt...

1 comment 1
Read story

“The Oddballs ” by Eric Wharton

Submitted to Contest #40

Jack Wharton sat quietly next to the window, stroking the stubble on his jaw and feeling the sun on his back as he watched. Every few minutes for the last half an hour a new character with an air of eccentricity about them had walked in the door labeled “campus writing group” and staked out their spot. The crowd was getting larger, and he listened as pairs and trios fractured into their own conversations. To his right along the far wall a trio of girls sat on a couch and recommended authors of horror to each other, and at the long table i...

1 comment 1
Read story

“Words of White Lightning” by Eric Wharton

Submitted to Contest #36

Monday, 16 March 2020– 5:18 a.mTo say the inability to sleep that has come down on me occurred naturally would not be completely honest— outside agents certainly had a hand in these repetitive long, slumber-less nights. There are two beasts, as best I can explain, which keep me awake. The healthier more lumbering of the two is the COVID-19 quarantine. The irony of this being the healthier of reasons does not go unnoticed by my weary conscious... When the government essentially shut the country down, what little of my schedule survi...

0 comments 0
Read story

“The Lightning Carnival ” by Eric Wharton

Submitted to Contest #35

The words on unfinished pages in front of me slithered unnervingly about, not making any sort of sense. Nor did the words coming off my fingertips at ever declining speeds resemble any sort of coherent logic. It was not until the music became repetitive that I knew for sure the drug was wearing off. The fall had snuck up on me again, and the chemicals were now clinging to my consciousness in the same loathsome manner as every other time. Where joy and clarity had existed only an hour ago, now vague notions of fear and confusion at looming...

1 comment 1
Read story

Author bio

Eric Wharton has not written a bio yet!