George Georgerfrost@gmail.com

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Nov, 2019

Stories (250)

250 Stories

5376 karma pts

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“Deep Woods” by George Georgerfrost@gmail.com

Submitted to Contest #143

If you have ever been up in the hills of California around the Sierras near Truckee, there are some deep woods. As a younger man, I used to be employed by lumber camps. That’s where I met Jim Northrupt, another malcontent from the San Joaquin Valley tired of working on his father’s large alfalfa farm near Tracy. We were just kids back from the war in the Pacific and suddenly the world wasn’t as large as it had been when we left. We were in the same unit, Jim and I. We saw a lot of our buddies get chewed u...

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“Library of Lost Souls ” by George Georgerfrost@gmail.com

Submitted to Contest #142

Passing through the Great Empty of this country, there is a small closet of a Library with a sign on the door that reads “Library of Lost Souls.” I was thumbing my way across the country when I happened to find this obscure corner of the world. Now in my profession, I don’t rightly have much time or chance to do any reading, but the small sign hand painted in gold paint on a back door caught my attention and curiosity. “Greetings.” The woman at the desk said when I walked in. There was an icy wind blowing from ...

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“Persnickety Eliot Wagman ” by George Georgerfrost@gmail.com

Submitted to Contest #141

There have been people in my life who have caused me a great deal of grief, but Eliot Wagman would have to rate at the top of the list. Ever since we launched Christoval Enterprises five years ago, Wagman has been a thorn in my side with his persnickety personality and his constant criticism of our general operations. As founder and C.E.O. of Christoval Enterprises which specializes in making technology accessible to companies requiring assistance by bringing their operations into the Twenty-First Century, Eliot Wagman ha...

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“I Remember Drowning ” by George Georgerfrost@gmail.com

Submitted to Contest #140

I remember drowning. Most people would pick a more pleasant memory, but to me, the day when I nearly drowned in the South Fork of the American River on June 17, 1992, created a memory that will be with me the rest of my life. I have many other memories, some good as well, some not so good, some I wish I could forget because they weigh me down like an anchor. I will never forget how quickly I was pulled into the rapids, helpless as a newborn and then at the exact moment when I thought I was going to die, I came to the surfac...

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“Goodwill Donation ” by George Georgerfrost@gmail.com

Submitted to Contest #139

“Name?” The donation attendant asked without looking up at me. His clothing told his story with the ill-fitting pants and shirt with several holes in it. He wore a jacket that appeared to have been a donation with a ripped pocket and the letter “G” which had no apparent significance at the moment. His rugged face was partially obscured by a poorly trimmed beard. His nose was bent in an odd position indicating that it had been broken at least once, but my guess was that it had been broken more than once. “Henry. ...

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“Legends from the Dark Side of the Hill” by George Georgerfrost@gmail.com

Submitted to Contest #138

I’ve heard there’s a little known town in shady hollow in the Smoky Mountains where it is rumored that the sun seldom shines, if at all. Some of the locals like to gossip about how this place is Satan’s headquarters, but I don’t go in much for that. All that talk ain’t nothing but folks flapping their gums about things they don’t know nothing about. One night me and Chet were tasting some of his home brew moonshine and he started telling me about this town known as the legend from the dark side of the hill. “R...

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“Storm on the Horizon ” by George Georgerfrost@gmail.com

Submitted to Contest #137

When Godfrey Eilenstein started on the germline editing research being done at Kayline Research Laboratories, he never envisioned himself becoming a whistleblower. “What is it?” He asked his assistant Penning Walbee. Penning had been his assistant for over twenty years and Godfrey placed his entire trust on Penning. Putting his eye to the electronic microscope. He raised his head and looked at Dr. Eilenstein and replied, “I have no idea.” “We cannot afford to put that into our prototype, now can we?” Godfrey crosse...

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“Tug of War” by George Georgerfrost@gmail.com

Submitted to Contest #136

Tug of war is a simple concept, usually the rope which is about six inches in diameter and made from rough hemp that chaffs and is rough on the skin. While length may vary, the rope laid out in the “Pit of Death” was approximately fifty feet long and would accommodate two teams of ten each. A red flag signifying the middle was hung over a large man-made mud puddle in which the losing team would most likely be swimming in. Since I was the largest member of our team, I was designated as the anchor and the small members of th...

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“An Angel With a Broken Wing” by George Georgerfrost@gmail.com

Submitted to Contest #135

Mickey “Iceman” Monchelli was a hitman by trade, but most in the rundown Bronx neighborhood knew him as Mickey the florist. Icky Taborinni walked into his shop wearing a cheap suit and his hair slicked back by a handful of hair jell which was his trademark along with a scar that ran from his throat to his jaw. It made his face, that was once perfectly asymmetrical, a mass of facial scars that included a creepy, crooked smile. “Why are you here?” Mickey closed his eyes and put both his hands on the counter. “Big Gino is needing you...

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“When Michael Learned to Fly” by George Georgerfrost@gmail.com

Submitted to Contest #134

I met Michael LaRoos when he moved up to Pilot Knob after his mother and father were killed in a horrific traffic accident on the Long Island Freeway. He had come to live with his Grandpa Keller who owned one hundred acres north of our home. He was twelve, the same age as I was when he came to the eastern shore of Lake George. Named for the King of England before the Revolution, my father boldly claimed the lake was named for him whenever the out-of-towners walked into his store. Who was I to doubt him since&nb...

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“Grandpa Gideon's Heart Shaped Box ” by George Georgerfrost@gmail.com

Submitted to Contest #133

I was at work when I got the call that my Grandpa Gideon Grachalmeyer had passed away. The news came as no surprise since he was in his eighties and had a bad bout of pneumonia that he never really got over. What came as a surprise is that he named me as executor of his estate in his will. Suddenly the life of this little man from Belarus, a country in Eastern Europe bordering Russia, became an open door to me as I began to go through his things while the rest of the family sat shiva. I was in the attic discovering secrets about...

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“God, It's Me, Francisco Rodriguez” by George Georgerfrost@gmail.com

Submitted to Contest #132

It’s my last day at the 9th Precinct in Manhattan where I have served faithfully for over thirty years since 1982. There are things I like to talk about like my grandkids Romana and Dalby who love coming over to grandpa and grandma’s house after church on Sunday. I also like to talk about my daughter Francesca and her very fair skinned Irish husband Shawn McGuiness who is a hulk of a man with a great career at Colby’s Electronic Design Firm. Yeah, he’s a real computer geek who earns a pretty hefty salary, but he talks about...

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“Strange Mr. Paisley ” by George Georgerfrost@gmail.com

Submitted to Contest #131

When Mr. Amos Paisley came to Stoneybrook Ridge, Missouri, he had no idea what he was in for. Stoneybrook Ridge is located on the west side of the Mississippi river in the Ozark Hills where many still hold grudges from over a hundred years ago during the war. When he arrived, there was a feud boiling over again between the Garris and McDaniel families over a marriage proposal gone sour between Jenny Garris and Tommy Joe McDaniel. Jenny had just turned seventeen, which is old by local marriage standards while Tommy had just returned hom...

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“The Locked Door ” by George Georgerfrost@gmail.com

Submitted to Contest #130

My name is Zigfried Zanmori. Besides the cumbersome name I have lived with all my life, I was now standing in front of a locked door. I have no idea of where the key is or what secrets lie inside of the vault behind the large iron door. I’ve been warned that there are certain doors and portals that are better left locked. Pandora’s Box flashes through my mind, but my curiosity is a much stronger impulse at this moment in my life. This house belonged to my grandfather Zarkoff Zanmori who was as eccentric as ecc...

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“Grendel's Nest Chalet ” by George Georgerfrost@gmail.com

Submitted to Contest #129

Grendel's Nest Chalet is an exclusive resort in the Bavarian Alps that is talked about in certain circles, but has never advertised in any of the travel journals and there is a reason for that. Named for the monster in Beowulf, there have been rumors about what is up there in the Bavarian Alps, so being a resourceful correspondent, I decided to have a look for myself. What you are about to read is my account of that eventful weekend at Grendel's Nest Chalet. “Welcome Herr Walter Shannon.” The concierge greeted me at the check ...

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Author bio

Currently residing in Eugene, OR. I have retired from 16 years of teaching. I have been married for 30 years and have two adult daughters, I am also a musician and an unabashed animal lover. I am a veteran of the United States Air Force. I am currently working on three novels, two historical fiction books and my memoir I do have a blog www.cryoverspiltink.com Please come visit.

Shortlisted 2 stories ⭐️

Contest #232

Souls in the Sky – read story

Contest #220

Take Me Out to the Ballgame – read story