Greacian Goeke

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jul, 2021

Stories (5)

5 Stories

108 karma pts

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“Horseshoe Island” by Greacian Goeke

Submitted to Contest #140

 She remembered the long afternoon, the last day they were at Woman Lake. The lake next to Little Boy Lake and Man Lake. Lakes really did have names like this in northern Minnesota. She imagined the days when the lakes were fields of wild rice harvested by the Ojibway Indians. They beat the stalk heads so the grains would fall into their canoes. That was the way the social studies book described it. This image came to he...

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“Score” by Greacian Goeke

Submitted to Contest #124

Hear these:   gloom    lust     truth     n. Anglo-Saxon.  Dense, blade-quick. Is there a one-syllable word for disgust, she wondered.    Hate    dread    guilt    gut       gharghhghhgh    may retch.   She inhaled the gloom of the empty library, sieving it through her skin, gall, the heavy bitte...

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“Thick Skin” by Greacian Goeke

Submitted to Contest #123

I had a dinosaur’s-eye view of the audience, down my long bumpy nose, through caged peepholes deeply shaded by flannel lashes. Every move of my oversized head seemed to make them laugh, and there were “awwws” when I and the other dinosaur embraced. But nothing about being inside this costume was cute.  At 13 I was willing to do almost anything to be on stage. I was too small to play the mother, or even a ...

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“Kimimi's Tale (from the Psyche Chronicles)” by Greacian Goeke

Submitted to Contest #118

I spilled out of a tiny purse in a sea of other green writhing commas. We hatched on the underside of a leaf where no one would notice and cascaded into the green planky sea below. Rolling around blind, trying to get a purchase on something, we sought a personal island of leaf to claim for a base station from which to survey and form a strategy. How to get enough to eat in a population explosion of four or five ...

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“For My Father” by Greacian Goeke

Submitted to Contest #115

Trigger warning: Suicide, mental health Some mornings the feeling was of old lace, touch it and it falls to dust. On others she saw their little rat tails disappearing under the soffits and couldn’t grab even one to yank it back and see what it was. Most days it felt more like seeing cockroaches zipping away and gone before she was even sure they were there. It had been going on a long time, this disconne...

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Author bio

I am a lifelong writer, dancer, musician, martial artist, naturalist.