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George Georgerfrost@gmail.com

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Nov, 2019

Stories (275)
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275 Stories

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Adebowale Abacha

No one would guess the homeless man with skin darker than night was the son of once one of the most powerful men in Africa.  No one would guess that the man holding a sign with misspelled words and the poorly conjugated verbs attended Oxford University in England.  No one would guess that the man wearing sandals leaving his feet calloused, filthy, was once clothed in royal robes wrapped around his designer clothing and accessories. No one would guess the man who had trash and garbage thrown from open windows of passing vehicles had...

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The Night They Shot Captain America

Submitted to Contest #105

I was on duty at the precinct the night they shot Captain America. With over twenty years as a detective in various precincts in the general Portland, Oregon area, I have had a lot of serious matters come across my desk, but this one was special since I knew the parties involved.  It quickly became a personal matter.   I am Detective Rocco Mancini, swing shift supervisor. The 5 pm to midnight shift can be a very vigorous one since all the freaks come out at night as that old song suggests.  I do my best to keep things lo...

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All the World's a Stage

Submitted to Contest #104

She was amazing playing Blanche DuBois in Streetcar Named Desire.  I was the stage manager, but my main concern was staying out of the way of the cast in such a dark confined area.  Beth Zimmerman was as beautiful as she was talented.  Then one night, Beth Zimmerman smiled at me when I found her fan for the third act that had been misplaced on the prop table.  I could have melted on the spot. I joined the Tannanaw River Players about two years ago as a way to c0me out of my shell as one of the biggest introverts that has...

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In Search of Sal Blumenthal

Submitted to Contest #103

It’s always the same.  I am walking in this garden and there he is sitting on a bench reading poetry by Charles Bukowski.  As I pass, he reaches out and touches my hand very gently and says, “Excuse me, are you Sal Blumenthal?  I am Carl Kranz.” Problem, my name is Jarod Hipple, not Jacob Blumenthal. “Sorry, you must have mistaken me for someone else.” I smile as his dark eyes open wider behind his round rimmed glasses as if I had said something to offend him.  The flowers become brittle.  A wind blows the pedals ...

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Where did Mr. Crestwell Come From

Submitted to Contest #102

Where did Owen Crestwell come from?  Besides being an enigma, he was a complete recluse who lived in the old Tanner house where there was a horrible murder twenty years before I was born.  We were standing in the gymnasium waiting for Mr. Penrod to show up to begin PE class at Hester Hayden Middle School.  Huddled together we were discussing his sudden appearance in Willett Grove, Kansas.   My name is Horace Butler and I’ve lived in this one-horse town my entire life.  Up until now, this was the dullest place o...

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The Strawberry Thief

Submitted to Contest #101

TW: PTSD, war violence   Infuriating.  That’s what it is.  Bad enough there are plenty of wild animals to feast upon my garden, but it seems I have a human thief helping him or herself to my strawberries.  Even with my six foot chain link fence, I have a two legged thief who scales it and comes over after midnight to eat some of my strawberries. What can be done?  What can be done to discourage this thief from taking what is clearly not his, but does not heed barriers intended to keep him out of my acre and a half th...

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Silent Night at Broadsword Inn

Submitted to Contest #100

Helga clean the tables in the dining room.  It was almost closing time and since it was Christmas Eve, she wanted to get home to her husband and three young children.  It had been a difficult few weeks as most of Iepers had been leveled by relentless artillery from both British, French and German guns.   Peter Van Dyken owned the century-old establishment, but some of the building had been damaged in the fourth battle between enemy forces.  This part of Flanders had been under constant siege or at least that’s what it see...

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Memory of a Long Journey

Gabir Hamza turned sixty five surrounded by his three children and a dozen grandchildren when he blew the candles out in a great gust of wind like the Big Bad Wolf.  The grandchildren cheered wildly when the last candle went out on the massive cake that nearly covered their humble kitchen table.  Gabir favored coconut frosting over lemon cake so his wife Maya had one made at the bakery around the corner.  All of the people at the bakery like Gabir were from Lebanon and they loved Gabir’s lively spirit when he came into the sho...

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Terrance Winlow Bridden's Premonition

Submitted to Contest #98

No matter how he turned in his bed Terrance Winlow Bridden could not sleep.  His dreams were disturbed and interrupted by horrible visions of a disaster.   “Terry, it’s breakfast.” His mother called him as the servants had set the table for the morning meal.  He still had the horrible images from his nightmare swimming in his head.  His tennis lesson would begin promptly at nine with Mr. Cheevers on the tennis courts on the estate grounds.  His private tutor would follow at around ten, Mr. Jenkins was his name...

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Window of Lost Souls

Submitted to Contest #97

About three months ago, my brother Wendell went off his medications.  A couple weeks later, he put the barrel of his revolver in his mouth and pulled the trigger, because he could not take the voices anymore.  After his funeral, of which I was the only one in attendance, I came out there to Star Lake in the Adirondacks to chill out as they say.  The cabin that sits on the north shore of the lake has this window.  My first night in the cabin a full moon crossed the window casting silver light on the black water, creating ...

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Discovery of Jane Doe in Newport

Submitted to Contest #96

No one knew who she was.  She just appeared at our small sea resort on the coast, wrapped in some kelp lying on the beach.  She did not have a memory of the past and no language to describe what kind of trauma she had been through.  Some of the locals hinted that she was an alien from another planet.  But if you have ever been in a small community, you know how they are when it comes to rumors or innuendo about some mysterious person who suddenly appears out of nowhere.   Brett Walker loved to beachcomb with ...

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Two Door Mulligan

Submitted to Contest #95

Don’t you dare start me on Schrodinger's Cat or the Lady or the Tiger or Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken.” because when you get right down to it, it’s all the same, isn’t it? Our lives are filled with choices and our fate is determined by which door we open or which road we choose to walk down.  It all sounds nice and contrite to me, because when you are chasing a suspect of a triple homicide, all that crap flies out the window. My name is Detective Leland Branson Mulligan, but around my precinct, I am known as Two Door Mulligan.&nbs...

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Over a Barrel

Submitted to Contest #94

The deafening roar of Horseshoe Falls is what draws so many people to this natural wonder each year.  I would like to say that is why I am here, but as they put the padding in a wooden barrel that will carry me over the 167-foot drop is what happens when you let your mouth overload your courage.  Wearing my full body wetsuit, there are gawkers all around me who are watching in awe, wondering what is going to happen next.  It should be obvious.  Stupid man enters barrel, lid is fastened, followed by barrel bobbing over th...

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Carnival of the Incurables

Submitted to Contest #93

My name is Jack Hayward and I was the curator of the Carnival of the Incurables. There was a lot of interest in our enterprise and me be very clear, once you have entered the carnival, there is no escape from this rather unusual show.  We are proud of who we were.  We were proud of what we managed to do, because let’s face it, our kind is not normally accepted among the general population.  It’s alright with us, because we have earned a special place in our own society than the one that rejected us.   There is a hop...

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House of Shadows

Submitted to Contest #92

Felix Maratosa was what one would call a man of the road.  Just like the Roger Miller tune, he was king of the road.  Haunting the ophidian 101 highway, Felix had spent his life traveling north of south like a tumbleweed traveling on the whim of the wind.  My name is Salvatore Rossini or just plain Sal owner of Sal’s Cafe just outside of Crescent City, California where we serve the best burger on the Pacific West Coast. Felix will come in about once every few weeks on his way to wherever the wind happens to be blowing.  ...

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