Hal Perry

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Sep, 2024

Stories (4)

4 Stories

55 karma pts

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“The Language of Leaves” by Hal Perry

Submitted to Contest #287

A hard rain fell against the attic window. It was a noise that mirrored the frantic beat of Melanie's heart. It made dust motes dance in the lone shaft of afternoon light that pierced the gloom. It lit up the stacks of forgotten trunks, cobweb-draped furniture, and partially closed cardboard boxes filled with clutter that were packed in haste.She sought refuge in the highest and forgotten corner of her grandmother's sprawling Victorian house, desperate for peace.Downstairs, the house buzzed with the frenetic energy of a wake. Family members ...

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“Frankie” by Hal Perry

Submitted to Contest #287

Frank flushed and exited the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He paced back and forth for a few seconds. Then he walked back to the refrigerator and got a beer.He cracked it open, took a healthy swig, and sat on his modest couch.After a moment, he emptied the rest of the can, crushed it in his right hand, and made like Gary Payton as he took a shot at the trash bin in the kitchenette.It bounced off the wall and went in.After another moment, he crushed one of the two other empty beer cans sitting on the coffee table and took another s...

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“The Most Neurotic Man in the World” by Hal Perry

Submitted to Contest #287

I met Frank for lunch today at the First Hill Diner, just up Madison from the bar. He said he needed to talk about something. His voice sounded urgent. So I told him I’d get my co-owner to cover for me and that I'd meet up with him at 1:00 pm.I think Frank is the most neurotic man in the world. That isn’t meant to disparage, because I’m rather neurotic myself. I dealt with anxiety problems after I got divorced, and Frank took to me because he seemed to know of what I spoke.Birds of a feather.But Frank boils over with anxiety, insecurity, and...

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“Dandelion Girl” by Hal Perry

Submitted to Contest #286

West 7th street stretched off Hoover, a block north of where the Stratford Hotel held court over the Koreatown neighborhood, right before the Winchell’s, which anchored the shopping plaza on the corner and welcomed motorists and pedestrians alike to Heidi’s Los Angeles ‘ville, a canvas of black asphalt, faded green and blue buildings, and worn red, yellow, and orange tarps over decrepit tents baking in the harsh sun as a single cloud hovered overhead, mocking the glare with it’s promise of paltry shade. Heidi sighed while waiting for an oppo...

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Author bio

I've been writing since I was in eighth grade when I bought my first spiral notebook from Fitch Drug on Mayfield Road in Lyndhurst, Ohio. Since then, I've journaled off and on, writing dozens of short stories and one full-length book I'm prepping for publication. I hope you like my work. Thanks for reading. :)