Ethan Zimmerman

“Poor Shirley has a Very Bad Christmas” by Ethan Zimmerman

Submitted to Contest #281

I was walking home from the playground at school when it happened. My friends and I had stayed late to play tag. I was ten years old. It was mid-January and the coldest day of the year. A recent snowfall and a sunny morning left a sheet of black ice on all the sidewalks. Darkness began to fall. Eager to make it home before my mother got mad, I ran down the stairs next to the playground, hit a patch of ice and fell to the ground with all the force of a falling tree. I lay there for a few moments, unable to move and attempting to assess my sit...

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“The Bookshelf” by Ethan Zimmerman

Submitted to Contest #264

I had no idea what to write for the most recent Reedsy prompt. I chose the one I liked the best out of five, and even this one did nothing to move me into action. I honestly don't know what's wrong with me. I do not know what to write. I went to the kitchen and heated up some rice and some kale and added some soy sauce to it, hoping that would help. I went back to my office and sat down and still nothing. I finished eating and washed it all down with some water out of the white Yeti bottle that was a gift from a friend. Every time I drink ou...

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“And So it Goes, A Gossip Column for Our Times” by Ethan Zimmerman

Submitted to Contest #254

And So it Goes, A Gossip Column for Our Times Most gentle and kind and hospitable reader: if you would like to know who fell into the arms of a most willing stranger, continue to read to the end of this column, in which I will divulge to you the secret of the century. Until then, and while we sit together holding hands, bating our breath and clinging to each other like school children surprised by the late bell ringing while we pass through the gate, try to surmise, if you can, the latest glistening golden gossip. Alas, I have overcorrected....

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“This is the Hardest Part” by Ethan Zimmerman

Submitted to Contest #253

It is bitter at first. Then, the bitterness is replaced by a sudden rush of sweetness. Then there is nothing at all but saliva, and my tongue rolling over my teeth, left and right and then right and left and then… You sit down on the other end of the couch. You aren't looking at me or at the television, which is not on, or at the dog, who is sleeping between us and the table. I can see the reflection in the television of you and the dog sitting next to me. You aren't looking anywhere that I can see. I can't open my mouth to say anything beca...

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“Track and Field Theory” by Ethan Zimmerman

Submitted to Contest #235

Track and Field Theory            At the 3.14159265359 mile mark of my run, I began to limp and had to stop. I thought I must have a foreign particle in my shoe, so I stopped and leaned on an electromagnetic post. I removed my right shoe, touching the toe of my sock-covered foot to the pavement. I inspected the sole and the shoe's inside; nothing was detectable.      Then I heard a big bang. The theoretical physicist Lisa Randall tapped me on the shoulder. Her ...

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“The Lop-it-off-a-me List” by Ethan Zimmerman

🏆 Winner of Contest #230

The Lop-it-off-a-me List Count money in the envelope one more time. Make sure Marcel has his itinerary. Ask Alex if she will come by to feed Odin. Buy extra cat food and litter so Alex doesn't have to. Give her the spare key next time I see her. Kiss Odin and tell her she is the best cat in the world, even if she has always been destructive like her namesake. Fill out the final paperwork and mail it to the surgeon. Go to the post office on Tenth Avenue and put a stop mail hold in place. Stop worrying about the pain. Stop thinking about th...

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“Qanak” by Ethan Zimmerman

Submitted to Contest #227

Qanuk My father was Inuit. He said he could smell the snow before it came. He would lift his nose toward the sky and inhale and say, No Qanuk's tonight. In the morning - maybe. When he was a boy, his toes froze inside his boots, and three of them had to be removed. He remembers holding them in his hand as brittle frigid bricks. When I was young he tried to teach me to smell the snow coming, but it was never something I could master. Sometimes, I could come close. My sense of snow comes more from the things I see. First, the pallet of the...

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“Ping” by Ethan Zimmerman

Submitted to Contest #208

At a garage sale recently, I saw a box of old Barbie dolls. There were half a dozen dolls in a box, and they reminded me of a time before I transitioned when I was still a girl. My best friend, Mikey, has brought over his newest toy, a slingshot made by the Wham-O slingshot company. He is super proud of it, as his parents don't buy him many new toys. He rushed over to show it to me right away. The handle is made of wood and has black rubber around it so that when you grip it tightly, it won't slip out of your hand. The last thing you wa...

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“Up the River Styx Without a Paddle, by Way of a White Cat” by Ethan Zimmerman

Submitted to Contest #187

He showed up before sunup to escort me to the gas chamber. Who am I? I’m Carmine, Two-face Ciccone. Prisoner number 8318139. Scheduled date of execution tomorrow, June 1st, at midnight o one. Stay of execution status: denied. Current situation since Charon showed up: fucked. He only appears on your legitimate last day. He wouldn't show if you were awarded a stay, only if it was a for sure thing. It was like he knew. According to prison lore, Charon will be with me for less than 24 hours. He had done this sort of thing for God knows ho...

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“Inner Dark” by Ethan Zimmerman

Submitted to Contest #186

Good morning. I'd like to pick up where we left off during our last session. Could we go back to the line you wrote when you said you thought suicide might be an option for you. What about it? Do you think about suicide often? Well, that wasn't really me writing that, was it? I think it was you. You admit to being the author. Your name is on the cover. I don't think anyone, least of all you, can deny that you wrote the sentence. I've written a lot of sentences, friend. You, more than most, should know that. No one is disputing t...

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“Leanne's Life in a Box” by Ethan Zimmerman

When we rolled up the storage unit door, several dozen boxes fell out. And then some more and some more until we felt as though we were standing in front of a cardboard avalanche. We both took a big sigh and began to stack the fallen boxes outside the door. What mostly fell out of the boxes were household objects: candle holders, wine stoppers, Tupperware, and the odd stuffed animal. Once we cleared the boxes, it became more obvious. Our sister had lived here for years. The fallen boxes revealed a small foam mattress in the center of th...

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“The Frame Advances” by Ethan Zimmerman

I pick up the grey viewfinder and click through the images. I am eight years old. I pretend the people I see have been made miniature, by magic, to fit inside the plastic box. The photos I am currently clicking through were from a family trip to Yellowstone when I was six. In the photo are my mother, my father, my brother, and me. We are a happy family, on vacation, not a care in the world. The year is 1972. I click the button once more, and where my mother used to be in the image, she is now gone. I shake my head and try again. Click. She...

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“Clearly Stated” by Ethan Zimmerman

I will state this again, more clearly this time; I am not watching you. Who are you watching, then? No one. That's not what it looks like. What does it look like? Like you are watching someone. How does a person look like they are watching someone? It's in your eyes. Now you're just talking nonsense. Don't try to change the subject. It's not the subject I'm trying to change. Have you any idea how many cameras there are in this city, just surveilling our everyday lives? No. How many are there? Three for every single person. By my calculations...

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“Fambot Failure” by Ethan Zimmerman

The alarm has just gone off sir. Did you call the alarm company, or did I? I think it was you. Are you sure? How should I know? I haven’t been sure of anything since 1972. Are you sure that is the correct date? Not really. That’s what I thought. The alarm company says they are too overwhelmed with work to come out here this week. They may not get here until the end of the month. What are we supposed to do until then? Did they say? They said we should try to go about life as usual, without the alarms. Without the alarms. I’ve never lived wit...

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“Paranoid Dr. Freud” by Ethan Zimmerman

Submitted to Contest #182

We’ve been following you for some time, Dr. Freud. Where did you come from? I just told you. No. I mean, are you a figment of my imagination, or are you real? I believe you should be asking yourself this question. Are you, or are you not, the expert here? I suppose I am, but since you showed up, I’m no longer sure. You’ll have to come with us, I’m afraid. And where, might I ask, are you planning on taking me? I’ll give you one guess. The asylum? You see, I told you, you were the expert. What if I refuse? You know what happens to people who ...

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