Fred Aiken

“Details in the Shape of a Wormhole” by Fred Aiken

I dyed my hair purple earlier. That’s not relevant to the story, but I thought I’d throw it in there as a conversation starter. I received a phone call from Audri. She was hysterical. She sounded like a harpy filtering words through a theremin. She said something happened. I gathered. She said she needed help. She needed me to come get her, rescue her, become something akin to her savior. 

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“Anomic Pieces of Discombobulated Plasma” by Fred Aiken

Three or four decades, I’m not quite certain anymore. But definitely more than a full generation of being a therapist. Listening to problems. Helping people. Going to conferences. Spending countless hours on the phone. Countless hours in traffic. At one point or another, though, I got to the point where I couldn’t do anything else. What am I going to do? Take thirty some odd years of analysis and therapy ...

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“An AA Meeting I was Never Meant to be At” by Fred Aiken

I wake up to the sound of my alarm, the one that blares a revolving door of classic rock tunes every morning. Snooze, then realize that I need to get up for purposes and meanings yet to reveal themselves. A real magical sort of feeling. Or maybe a small part of me hates myself and wants to continue to see me suffer for some unknown, or lifetime, of trespasses.  I'm a recovering alcoholic, though I hope th...

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“The Case of the Tree that Wasn’t and the Tree Surgeon” by Fred Aiken

Submitted to Contest #190

Timber! Tree ninja. Tree surgeon. The job title or description doesn’t matter. God gave me two hands and a heart to slaughter as many trees before I died. I stood beneath the towering oak tree, chainsaw in hand, and gazed up at its branches. Swaying in the morning breeze, casting dappled shadows on the ground below. But beneath their beauty lay a danger that cast a long s...

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“Target Practice” by Fred Aiken

“I want a shot.” “You’ve had your chance.” “And so have you…repeatedly. We were supposed to take turns.” “I don’t remember signing that contract.” Jesup pulled the golf club back. His hips and shoulders swaying in an awkward dance that no one bothered to tell him was by himself. Vincent wanted to reach for the club. But he also feared getting...

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“Camera Head” by Fred Aiken

One quick snap. One moment. Flash, bang, and the picture’s captured. I live with the camera. Not to say that I constantly carry it around, no. I had my head surgically replaced with a head shaped camera. It seems a lot stranger than it actually is. I guess I should explain why I decided to have this sort of plastic surgery, though that in and of itself kinda gets to the reason why. As with most pe...

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“What Grows at Home” by Fred Aiken

Submitted to Contest #143

We had always wanted something to take care of and nurture. If there’s one thing I hope to convey beyond a reasonable doubt, it's that. When Morgan and I got back from our honeymoon to our condo that we had yet to furnish, yet to unpack, yet to start our new life, we felt a bit empty, like something was missing in our lives. It was a bit disappointing. We spent all that time dating, building up to get engaged, pl...

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“Cloud Hunter” by Fred Aiken

Submitted to Contest #143

You know what they say about people that gaze too long at the clouds? Or is that the sun? As with everything in my life that I become too obsessed with, I wanted to shoot the clouds.  Those white, luminous particles floating in the heavens with no clear direction. They just go where the wind takes them. It’s downright disrespectful. I don’t like the implication that there’s something in nature without a clear fo...

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“Silent Music” by Fred Aiken

Submitted to Contest #142

The noise never stops. I guess if you want it to stop, then you have to stop it yourself. Or at least that’s what I’ve come to realize. I had this house specially built to filter out all noise. The house I’ve lived in for nearly forty years. The windows are hermetically sealed and soundproof. The walls were reinforced with several layers of concrete, insulation, and some specialized audio killing foam made in a lab by some MIT whiz kid I hired to eliminate the possibility of any sound coming into my house. I don’t think I wa...

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“Suicide Critic” by Fred Aiken

Submitted to Contest #141

I don’t know how I got into what I do. Don’t ask that question.  But, I mean, who really does, you know, know what they wanted to be when they grew up? I certainly had ideas and aspirations when I was a kid. I still do. It would be nice to be the first abstract expressionist to go to space and get to paint Saturn a different shade or two. I also wanted to punch a koala in the face. Not for no reason. I g...

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“I Didn't See You Come In” by Fred Aiken

Submitted to Contest #140

I keep note cards in my pocket. They hold my life’s secrets on them. Not really, but it sounds cool when I put it cryptically.    I had an accident a few years back. At least, that’s what the first note card on my nightstand says when I wake up. I couldn’t tell you what happened exactly, because for some reason whenever I was writing these notecards, I didn’t have all the details, or at least that’s what I’m going to assume.    There aren’t any note cards with my name or date of birth or place o...

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“Untitled” by Fred Aiken

Submitted to Contest #34

Aubrianna hated the rain. Her mom made her read whenever it rained. Everyone was forced to read whenever it rained. “I don’t have any more books to read,” Aubrianna said. “Can I draw?” “They didn’t assign you any reading to do in class?” ...

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“My Dog During Quarantine” by Fred Aiken

Submitted to Contest #34

Ruff ruff ruff ruff ruff ruff. Bark bark bark ruff. Ruff ruff bark bark bark bark ruff. Ruff ruff ruff bark bark bark bark. Two hour nap. Ruff ruff ruff ruff ruff r...

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“Untitled” by Fred Aiken

Submitted to Contest #33

Ryan received another wool sweater from Nanny Genevieve, or Genie as her grandchildren and children liked to refer to her because it felt uncomfortable whenever they mispronounced their grandmother’s name. Isabelle got another pair of hand-knitted mittens. Nanny Genie knew they both lived in Louisiana and would rarely need any warm clothing since the swamps did a good job of staving off any chilliness that might try to brave into the vines, mud, trenches of La Troya, Louisi...

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“Untitled” by Fred Aiken

Submitted to Contest #32

My life coach told me the best way to learn from mistakes is to hold on to them and never forget what they taught us. A week later, my roommate discovered the secret to time travel and founded his own company. I think it’s called Time is Money, Inc., though I’m not certain about that, so don’t quote me. Anyway, I decided to take advantage of my life coach’s advice with this new found discovery of time travel made by my roommate by reliving all my past failures. I know it do...

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