George Georgerfrost@gmail.com

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

Submitted to Contest #48

Trigger warning: sexual abuse Before the time of cell phones that took video or photos, there were stories told by the locals about what they saw or what they believed they saw.  In those times there was Michael Stenneck from Coxackie, a small town on the Hudson River, across the river from Newton Hook and not far from Riverside Park where he would spend most of his time.   The Stenneck family came to Coxackie in 1970 after Sergeant Wayne Stenneck died in action in Vietnam when his helicopter got shot down near Danang.  After ...

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“Letter from a Fan” by George Georgerfrost@gmail.com

Submitted to Contest #47

Did you ever get one of those letters that just makes you stop in your tracks, makes your heart skip a beat, and makes your throat go instantly dry?  And while you may enjoy a good jaunt on a roller coaster, this ride can make you doubt everything you ever thought to be true.  Well that kind of experience is something I have lived through recently.  Let me tell you all about it. First let me introduce myself, my name is Boris Smenaski, but in this part of the world, I am known as Marty Gladstone, character and commercial acto...

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“The Writers' Circle ” by George Georgerfrost@gmail.com

Submitted to Contest #46

There was never any consensus, no agreement, just eight writers diagnosed schizophrenics assembled in a process group facilitated by me. Mitch O’Donald at the Community Mental Health Clinic. There are a lot of reasons why this process group won’t work and how writing is not part of the therapeutic model, but I have never been one to go along with the status quo.   When you ask most people to describe a person with schizophrenia most of the response place the person somewhere between a raving lunatic as described in Pink Floyd’s Da...

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“Coon Hunting ” by George Georgerfrost@gmail.com

Submitted to Contest #45

While we are reeling from the murder of George Floyd, attention has turned away from Ahmaud Arbrey who was hunted down and killed by a father and a son. There is a term for what they did and I haven’t heard it in a while, but I know it is still being done as it was on Mr. Aubrey back in February in a seemingly quiet Georgia suburb. For those who do not know, it’s called “coon hunting.” Coon is short for raccoon. These little creatures are scavengers with black markings on their faces that make them look like cute bandits....

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“Silas Wrenfield's Goodbye ” by George Georgerfrost@gmail.com

He is big.  He has always been big even in his oversized overall, Silas Wrenfield has been a large man.  Built like an oversized snowman, he sits patiently at the train station waiting for the 3:15 north to Chicago from Birmingham, Alabama.  It is his first time in Birmingham.  He is wearing his Sunday best just like his mama told him to with a fine suit jacket covering his suspenders, white shirt and bow tie with a straw hat covering his massive head and a magnolia grandiloquent pinned to his lapel by his mama who had te...

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“Portal ” by George Georgerfrost@gmail.com

Submitted to Contest #43

Ben Grossman did not notice it when he moved into his uncle's house after he passed away.  It was an easy decision.  The house was off the beaten path with no running water or electricity and gas in the wooden planks that did little to stop the cold winter wind.  No wonder Uncle Clyde passed away, it amazed Ben he made it to seventy five.  Clyde Miniski was an old timer, a squatter and a fortune seeker who lived by his own rules miles from the clutches of society.  The Last Frontier drew his uncle's adventurous spiri...

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“Relic Hunter” by George Georgerfrost@gmail.com

Submitted to Contest #42

He was late and Marlin checked his watch, but then with all that was going on, tardiness was the last concern he had.  Four years of research had brought them to this junction, but now there would be a definitive proof. Europe was a mess.  Most of the cities had been brought to a state of ruin.  Paris was supposed to be torched by the retreating German occupiers with the assistance of the Vincy Government, but through some miscommunication  this did not happen.  It did not mean that Paris had been completely spared, ...

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“The Mighty Orion Project” by George Georgerfrost@gmail.com

Submitted to Contest #41

I remember when he was born, a hairy, squirmy chimpanzee infant weighing in at about two pounds whose mother instinctively put him to her chest to chest to suckle.  Orion came into the world at zero three hundred hours on the dot in the Bolton Animal Research Facility in late November. Little did we know then that this tiny infant chimp would be at the center of one of most infamous searches in history.  Watching him with his mother in one of our research cages, no one would have guessed that two years later his name would be known...

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“Feathers Falling From a Swan ” by George Georgerfrost@gmail.com

Submitted to Contest #40

It was a grim celebration standing at the Vietnam Memorial Wall in June, 2000 on the thirtieth anniversary of my brother Frank's death in that long war.  Frank Stempke would have been fifty years old next month, but his short life didn't get him to twenty.  I was fifteen when these two United States Marines showed up on our doorstep in the first week of summer vacation when I was looking forward to my final little league season as our team's star pitcher.  Frank spent many hours teaching me to throw a change up and a curve bef...

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“The Day When the West was East” by George Georgerfrost@gmail.com

Submitted to Contest #39

No one noticed.  It didn’t even make the news, but when I woke up that morning, the world as we knew it had changed and nothing would ever be the same.  Consistency and routine have been the mainstays of our understanding of the universe, but when there is a change, even a slight variation, what is and what was becomes an uncross-able border. Sunrise on that May morning did not seem to be such a big deal.  The summer was on its way melting the past weeks of winter away in one warming breeze.  The homeostasis of our commun...

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“Letters in a Shoe Box ” by George Georgerfrost@gmail.com

Submitted to Contest #38

This pandemic is a pain in the ass as far as I’m concerned.  There is nothing to do and mom is stuck at home which makes my life miserable for sure.  She’s always on my case so I have to hide out to keep her from calling my name and giving me something to do just to keep me busy.  I hate school, but at least I was out of her range and I do miss my friends. There is nothing worse than sitting at the computer doing stuff your teacher sends in your email to keep you busy.   Trisha texts me:  Hey Delha, it’s ...

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“Werewolf on Maple Street ” by George Georgerfrost@gmail.com

Submitted to Contest #37

There are some things, secrets, that should never see the light of day. There are some secrets that I say can only be known to a select few, a small trusted circle of friends and associates who understand the weight of the knowledge they possess and the damage it could do once revealed to those outside the circle.  But that has already been breached I’m afraid and I write this confession, I find myself filled with trepidation and consternation. First let me introduce myself. My name is Phillip LaRouse and I’m now known as the werewolf...

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“Escape ” by George Georgerfrost@gmail.com

Submitted to Contest #34

The following text messages were recovered from a person working in a biological research laboratory in the Center for Disease Control to Mindy Walton, a tenth grader from Window Rock High School.  The Federal Bureau of Investigation is still investigating this top secret correspondence. Please do not post the following on any sort of social media outlet as these facts still have not been ascertained or authenticated by investigators still working this incident. The text messages have been label as follows:CDC is the unidentified resea...

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“Drake's Garden” by George Georgerfrost@gmail.com

Submitted to Contest #31

See this place?  It’s known as Drake’s Garden and I’m Drake.  Drake Drisdroll, Patient number 67511 to be exact.  Welcome to Mayfield Psychiatric Hospital. I’m not big on introductions as my social skills are at times lacking according to my case manager.  I have reasons for my lack of proper social etiquette. I have been diagnosed as a paranoid schizophrenic. In my humble estimation, I am not the loony one.  The zookeepers in this place are nuts and they want to keep the normal ones like me locked up so that no one ...

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“Magical Evening with Haruki Murakami ” by George Georgerfrost@gmail.com

Submitted to Contest #30

I’m never sure which book by Haruki Murakami is my favorite, Wind Up Bird Chronicles or Kafka on the Shore when it starts to rain slugs. Both books have an appeal for me since I like fiction that contains a magical component to it.  Like Stephen King, I read every Murakami book I can get my hands on. The Japanese literary tradition is filled with magical and mythological images that are vibrant and memorable when God communed with man and beasts, giving each of them a distinct identity and character.  While Occidental thought trie...

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