Hosea Guy

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Mar, 2021

Stories (14)

14 Stories

322 karma pts

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“Asphyxiation” by Hosea Guy

I would love to be skinnier, I really would, but the ponds here are so shallow and the creeks are so narrow; the sidewalks are clogged and the shoes on my feet feel heavy because of the care I see in everyone’s eyes.  Currently, I am behind a boy in a letterman jacket and faded blue jeans. We are shambling along in the midst of thousands, inching our way past the ...

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“That's it: the night is lustrous, the cake is styrofoam, and the child is finally still. ” by Hosea Guy

“Good,” the professor says, his deep voice echoing across the vast lecture hall, carried and emphasized by the microphone clipped to his collar. “Now, once you’ve written five ‘I am’ statements, we’ll take a look at the average responses from the population and see if they correlate with yours.” I examine the immaculate sheet of white before me, five proclamation...

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“Despondent Vanity” by Hosea Guy

I remember you, still, even though you were different the first time you came here. I remember how the earth trembled as you settled among the burning trees, your wings like the sails of a ship as they bore your magnificent presence. You instilled a conviction in the hearts of all who witnessed you that day, a faithful confidence that such majesty would never be seen again, not until the heavens...

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“God's two Fingers” by Hosea Guy

A place to be alone; that is what he values most. He has found it here in the woods, deep and far away from home, and he will stay in this lonely place until the sun burns away and the sky is left blank. They will come then, the only ones he wants to see, and they will be together here in the concrete fortress that overlooks the cold, shimmering pool of impersonality that is Callander Bay. <...

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“Allurement” by Hosea Guy

I am watching through the grimy panes of glass as he stands with his arms crossed before him on the counter. The sun is bright and hot on my back as it sinks toward the horizon, but it sheds light on the churning sea of filth upon these dark windows and my attention is lost in this sea that is incongruent with the rest of the world and does, in fact, appear to churn before my very eyes. There is a young girl delivering a slim white box to the counter, and then Sebastian is beam...

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“Tulips in December” by Hosea Guy

I can hear the engine turn over in the parking lot as the bell on the glass door rings, and this is all so familiar. I let the door swing shut behind me and I am remembering how we used to do this all the time, a hundred years ago—you waiting in the truck with the air conditioning on to relieve you from the mid-July heat, me paying for our gas and slushies.  “Hey...

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“Waiting.” by Hosea Guy

“It’s a shame they don’t have a bench on this side, huh?”` The Hispanic man lifts his bushy eyebrows and removes the black baseball cap from his bald, shiny head, which is shimmering in the sun like a plain of hot, melting ice. We stare together at the bus stop on the other side of the four-lane boulevard. The stop features a bench, which has been designed to fit...

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“And then, everything shattered.” by Hosea Guy

     The wind, on the bitter morning of the last day—Day six thousand and two hundred, approximately—was as cold as the snow was fresh, and the songs of the trees were mournful. The sun was a muted lamp amid the thick, violet clouds, the sort of clouds you find in daydreams; they were a swirling river, alive with thunder and driven by the wind, and they flowed among the tops of those sad trees an...

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“Dance Flyers” by Hosea Guy

Sensitive Content: mild language and substance use There is a staircase in the church, just down a short hall from what we used to call the haunted room. The perfect red carpet on the winding flight’s first landing is often bathed in pale, pinkish rays that shine through a stained-glass window, tall and narrow, set high in the wall so you have to tilt your head to properly admir...

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“Freedom” by Hosea Guy

       Just when I was preparing to face the fact that no one in their right mind would be stopping for a hitchhiker on the shoulder of Highway 63 at a quarter past two on a December morning, a weary looking GMC Sierra, rusty and deteriorating, veered onto the road’s shoulder, its tires crunching through the deep snow as it rolled to a stop.  A snowplow was fastened to its front bumper.  I held a hand across my eyes, shi...

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“The Silent Watcher” by Hosea Guy

My grandmother was driving me home from church when I first saw him.  He was waiting at a bus stop downtown, eyes fixed on the asphalt so I couldn’t get a good look at his face; strands of blue hair hung past his eyes, anyway. He wore big, clunky white shoes on his feet, black athletic shorts, and a pink T-shirt.             “Woah, would you look at that character?” said my grandmother, dipping her head at him.<...

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“The Forbidden Fruit” by Hosea Guy

      “You know, this is my favorite flower,” says Chris Roberts to his son, Alex. “Of all the flowers I’ve grown and nurtured in my lifetime, this one is my favorite.” He strokes the pink petals of a radiant tulip he has growing in a vase of cloudy water. The scant evening light shines through the basement window and touches Alex’s face like a ghost’s finger. It shows Chris the blood on his son’s face, a dry line of sca...

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“The City of Lies” by Hosea Guy

      That’s the thing about this city: it’s built on lies. I didn’t realize that for a long time, but I know it now. Actually, no, that’s not right. I knew a degree of its falsehood at a young age; the success promised to me by my parents and teachers was never meant to be. I saw the real me back then, and I see him now in the broken mirror. This person was never destined for success. This person was born to send a mess...

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“The Wasteland” by Hosea Guy

“There’s tough times ahead, Rich, but don’t bow your head yet―don’t bow it ever. No matter how hard things get, keep your chin up.”            Richard Banks stared through the window at the white streets and the grey clouds with snow raining down from them. The words his father had said to him over two years ago still echoed in his mind.            “I bet you didn’t know times were going to be th...

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Author bio

I write stories that try to capture nuance, insight, and thoughtfulness; the azures and viridians and incarnadine reds that grace the canvas of the world.