Fred Aiken

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Sep, 2019

Stories (20)

20 Stories

258 karma pts

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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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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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“Untitled” by Fred Aiken

After you hear my problem, you might not think it’s a problem. But I can assure you, it’s a problem. You see, whenever I go to do laundry at the local laundromat, I somehow get distracted and start having sex with strangers.  At first I thought this might be good luck, and that somehow I had one the genetic lottery of being attractive enough for women to continuously sleep with me. But afte...

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“Untitled” by Fred Aiken

For the past four nights Ryan had dessert for dinner, and he knew he shouldn’t do it again. Something about being an adult and on his own for the first time in his young life screamed poor impulse control, and he wanted to live out his childhood dreams of eating ice cream and cookies for the rest of his life. But he also wanted to be healthy, look attractive so that Sarah, his classmate in chemistry, would say ‘yes’ to his request to grab a cup of coffee. And most of all, R...

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“Untitled” by Fred Aiken

His wife told him to get diapers. She gave him no other instruction. It seemed simple enough, and he had no qualms helping whenever he could, since he left his previous job a few months back and started a new job with more hours, more stress, and unfortunately no parental leave time off. He didn’t mind working twelve hour days and coming home to relieve his wife who already felt ill-equipped to handle a newborn by herself and so she went in and out of mood swings.

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“Untitled” by Fred Aiken

Paul’s music choice for his ride home from work was a religious experience. Whatever track he decided to play came as a direct result from his day of calling clients, listening to his coworkers tout the benefits of l-theanine, and a series of conference calls and meetings with men and women in overly starched clothing. Those first thirty seconds from when he left his office building to his car involved a series of prayers, meditations, and ultimate decisions about how his d...

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Author bio

I write a lot of Untitled and Unread stuff. I've been in the coffee industry for the past ten years, from barista to roaster to green coffee buyer. I also write a blog with mostly poetry, but other things as well: https://fredaikenwriting.com/