Gip Roberts

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Mar, 2020

Stories (35)

35 Stories

1831 karma pts

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“A Night not to Remember” by Gip Roberts

Sounds of gunfire rang off the walls. Tracy and Trina huddled together, their limbs jerking each time the Magnum barked out another."I counted six, babe," Tracy turned and whispered. "Always figured he was bluffing.""It was definitely only five. Watch and learn!"Callahan stood over the whimpering, bleeding rat-haired excuse for a life form with a face as straight as the mole on it was rigid. The end of the matte black barrel grazed the culprit's sweat-covered cheeks without the inspect...

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“Belated” by Gip Roberts

(Trigger Warning: Language and mentions of suicidal ideation) But now you got to fly "Fly high!" Fly to the angels Heaven awaits your heart And flowers bloom in your name Earbuds blasting, Taz continued prying and singing along. It was an oldie she'd never heard before, but it beat nothing. Anything to soften...

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“The Fosston Tea Party” by Gip Roberts

The topic for Sunday's weekly discussion? Mervin. What better subject for the four ladies to dissect. He was the new neighbor, and something was odd about him.Maybelline sat at the dining room table, watching through the window with a red ink pen in hand, analyzing the young man's every move the way a circling buzzard hones in on fresh roadkill.Observation #47, the pen squiggled in speedy, forceful motion onto a canary yellow legal pad, Subject seen looking around in all directions while pi...

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“A Touch of Rockwell” by Gip Roberts

It's sleeting outside. Alan shuts his eyes and spends the next forty-five minutes tossing this way and turning the other. But it's a lost cause. He was hoping to get a full twelve hours in. School's out; why not? Instead, as dreams of flying dragons in a faraway fantasy land dissolve leaving reality, two things demand his undivided attention: The sharp taps on the windows and the unmistakable scent of game.He sits up, eyes drawn to the fuzzy shadow of early morning on the wall. Such a contrast. Sleet. Cornish game hen. I...

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“The Forbidden Poot” by Gip Roberts

CW: Immature themesIn the beginning, everyone had the god-given right to poot in the land of Olfactia. The air was hazy with the fumes of cabbage, eggs, and everything in-between. A massaging reverberation of thousands of unique notes - all different pitches, all different tones - mingling to play haunting, beautiful music had become the unofficial world anthem. Partaking of the sacred poot was synonymous with blessing. By the year 2000 B.O., the planet was a giant ball blanketed over in methane. Letting it out was s...

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“The Dark Cloud” by Gip Roberts

(Contains some strong language) It was the longest the hallway had ever been. An oblong dungeon. Stale, musty with the scent of aged spills and my own perspiration. No one was back there. I tensed, eyeing the light that blared through the swinging doors at the end of the tunnel. The soles, though soft, ricocheted slaps of sound off sealed concrete. Every corner shadow looked like an outline of the bastard...

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“At the Summit of Sunflower” by Gip Roberts

I already knew there would be no mountain here. That isn't the reason I came. But I can tell by the vacant looks on the other folks' faces, they assumed there would be. Mt. Sunflower; it's the highest point in Kansas and is labeled as such on the map. At over four thousand feet, it's easy to be misled if you don't know a thing or two about the state.I find the whispering wind healing. It makes the grass breathe, much like the wind on an alpine meadow. The view here is of square miles of blonde vegetation, one after anoth...

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“Ethan's Moments in the Sun” by Gip Roberts

In all the years I've been around Ethan, I've never seen him like this before. Whether pacing back and forth in a restaurant parking lot, yelling indecipherable words into the beam of a cop's flashlight, doing some crazy dance while strolling down a sidewalk, or swatting at the air inside this liquor store, the one constant about him has always been unpredictability. So now that I think about it, I really shouldn't be to...

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“Who Did This?” by Gip Roberts

(Author's note: Depictions of abuse that may not be suitable for all readers.)I see two doors. Same two I'm faced with every morning hours before sunrise. I wish the green and gold uniform reflected how I really feel about my job. But I realized a long time ago there is no job that's free from interaction with the other gender.My gloved hand curls into a fist. One which I often daydream of using for something besides knocking. I have to control myself. I have to look golden, like these ridiculous stripe...

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“Behind The Scenes” by Gip Roberts

Mark did things the old fashioned way. It took longer, and it was more work, but like grandpa had always said: You can't turn a lump of coal into a diamond with a pair of pliers. Mark was the lump of coal. Inconsequential to the world. A Senior in high school, but a Freshman in life, going nowhere. And now that grandpa was gone, he felt like a fish out of water, going through the flapping motion of trying to plan a future.The library was about to close, and he was on his way out with a stack of "recipe" cards co...

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“Goodbye, Old Friend” by Gip Roberts

It was like trying to swim the English Channel. Jeb's knees were wobbling by the time he opened the gate to the fortification that was Carl's yard. The winter wind fought him every step of the way down the gravel path and up the rickety porch steps which creaked and popped as the stout breeze toyed with loosened boards.Carl, the closest and only person to a friend Jeb had left, still liked this setup it seemed. Ever since the psychotic break ten years ago, he had developed a fetish for the bizarre. There were ...

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“The Life After” by Gip Roberts

The last thing he remembers before waking up to...this was all the sensations disappearing. Clear up to that moment he'd been shivering, and it had become painful as his exhausted body had struggled to keep him awake.He looks back at the tracks leading to his car. No signs of melting, and now it's getting darker. Panic sparks again, but it never quite materializes as a full-blown feeling the way it had earlier.He recalls the temperature: The in-dash thermometer had shown seven below zero. That ...

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“Average Joe” by Gip Roberts

He wiped the dust off an old book, and the vision from twenty-six years ago came back. With instinct, he felt around the back of a neck that was starting to sag. No hair. None. Was the memory a fact of the past or a dream? The aftermath of long months spent getting the hair just right had left Joe with nothing but dead, faded remnants. Once a thick ebony, now thin and frayed. Once, it hung over his shoulders like a royal curtain. Now, it colored his sunburned scalp in pale patches.Joe thumbed through pages of tablature. ...

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“The Mantra” by Gip Roberts

It falls. It seeps. It gathers. They Grow.Druwa. Filtris. Occue. Amasee...***"I await. The darkness is my blanket and my shield. The dampness is my friend. You are my teacher, and I await...What in Hades am I doing wrong? The mantra is simple enough.Patience.These four words all feel good to say. The setting is right, the noise level is perfect, my spine is as aligned as I can get it without pulling something. What...

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“'Ding, Dong, The Year Is Dead!'” by Gip Roberts

Ten...Ten months ago, it was late in February, and early in 2020. It had started out a pretty normal year. In ten seconds, all the memories come flooding back. Pictures saved in the files of the mind. Remnants of festive wrapping paper still cluttering the carpet here and there. It had been a perfectly normal holiday season, and now the question: Will it ever get back to normal? You, like everyone else, has been asking this nearly all year long. As the last ten seconds of the undisputed worst year of your life d...

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Author bio

I'm overhauling a novel to self-publish when I'm satisfied it will make the reader turn the page. A few Reedsy authors I recommend: Amy Jayne Conley, an aspiring screen writer who deserves recognition for her intense stories with their face-smacking twists. Rachel Smith, who practices the "like for like, comment for comment" principle and always gives valuable feedback. Nainika Gupta, who first got my attention with her hilarious story about the world's largest cookie. Graham Kinross. His "Daughter of" series transports you to a well-built fantasy world of knights, creatures, magic, and the triumph of the human spirit. All writers who are either new to this platform or otherwise struggling to get established. I've read many great stories at the bottom of these submissions lists.