Jack Gorzo

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Apr, 2023

Stories (11)

11 Stories

216 karma pts

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“Train Tracks” by Jack Gorzo

Submitted to Contest #227

It’s November 15, 2018 and I feel cold. I feel cold and I don’t know how to warm up. There is no frost on my arm and yet I feel it crawl on my skin like a sleeve of frozen ants. I’m inside, lying on the couch. I should smell the candle burning on the table beside me, but I don’t. The air has the stark, empty smell of a winter day. My nose feels stiff and brittle as if the next breath in could shatter it. Jack Frost has touched my hair, making every strand stab sharply into my scalp. The silence of the cold lingers as well. The television is ...

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“In the Hall of Gods” by Jack Gorzo

Submitted to Contest #218

Elena was in her office when the gods called upon her. Documents pertaining to her most recent client were stacked in neat piles on her glass desk. She read them one by one, taking time to let the details sink in. The small things mattered in court, especially in a nasty eviction case like this one. The family had come to her in complete desperation. They were willing to give her their life savings if she could save their home. She refused the offer, of course. Their case would be handled personally by her, pro bono. It sounded fun, like a s...

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“The King of the Sky” by Jack Gorzo

Submitted to Contest #210

Kaelyn had been staring at the image on her computer for so long that she’d forgotten to eat dinner. Trapped within the confines of the screen was a rectangle filled with stars. Kaelyn was an astronomer, so she looked at stars a lot. Normally the images she took with the telescope looked like a black sheet of paper with small holes poked in it revealing the brilliant light shining beneath. This image, however, had a face. A horrible face made of stellar gases with red giants for pupils. Its awful smile stretched for light years. Its eyes loo...

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“The Power of a Gas Station” by Jack Gorzo

Submitted to Contest #209

Transient spaces always fascinated me as a child which is probably why I bought a gas station in my old age. Is there any space more transient? No one wants to stay in a gas station, and no one should. Those chains that try to make theirs appear like small grocery stores misunderstand the power of these places. It is in these between places that true change can occur. If the customers can sit down with a breakfast sandwich for an hour, they lose out on the experience. There is magic to gas stations—a uniquely American magic. I’ve seen that p...

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“How to Get a New Body in Three Easy Steps” by Jack Gorzo

Submitted to Contest #205

Tina stalked the park for the person who would save her from herself. Picking out a target wasn’t simple. It had to be someone she could manipulate. Someone her age would be easiest, so between 19 and 21. Most of all she required beauty. Her target needed to have confidence baked into her bones. She needed to look in the mirror and see the best version of herself every day. There was only one person who came to mind: Minnie Carson.  Minnie was one of Tina’s best friends in middle school. Some of her fondest memories were from sleepove...

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“The Knife” by Jack Gorzo

Submitted to Contest #204

*This story contains themes of sexual/physical violence, mental health, and other traumas. Please be advised before reading.**Also please excuse any formatting errors, for whatever reason this site never keeps my indents in place when I paste over the story*Anti remembers falling out of her bed, her face caked with blood.    She remembers crawling to the kitchen, pulling herself along the tile floor.     Anti remembers closing barriers around the memory of her trauma.     ...

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“A Trail of Words” by Jack Gorzo

Submitted to Contest #200

This story contains themes of physical and substance abuse. Please only read if these themes will not trigger. “Kelly, slow down! I’m making Carly’s lunch; I can barely hear you. What happened? Did Chris get hurt? That’s good then. Did you call the police? You need to call the police, Kells. I don’t care if you don’t trust them, you can’t deal with this yourself. Because if they can kick the shit out of your six-foot-three son, what do you think they’re going to do with your tiny ass? What? Since when do you own a gun? Kelly. Kelly. Kelly! L...

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“The Phantom from Behind the Walls” by Jack Gorzo

Submitted to Contest #199

It’s hard for me to recount that day, but I’ll try. I was walking home from the barber shop, filled with the confidence of a new cut, and locked into the rhythm of my music. Any city liver knows that you have to get used to being run into. There’s just not enough space on the sidewalk for everyone. This wasn’t a normal nudge, though. While I was in my jam, I was nearly knocked to the pavement by a sharp shoulder.              Now I’m a big man, nearly 6’3 when I stand up straig...

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“Green Benches” by Jack Gorzo

Submitted to Contest #197

My conflict with the man on the bench began when I first moved to the city. Being in my early thirties with few personal friends, I spent a lot of my free time reading. A romance here, a drama there, I tried my best to vary the genres of my literature. Changing the environment in which I read had also been very helpful in keeping up my mood and temperament. And so, once a week, I ventured to the park across the street. My books entranced me to the point where I hardly noticed the children playing or the birds chirping. This was my routine fo...

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“Empty Heart” by Jack Gorzo

Submitted to Contest #195

            A wave of fog gently crashed onto the cobblestone streets of Cortland, New Hampshire. The weather had just begun to turn towards autumn and the inhabitants of the tiny town were tucked into bed. The brick road beneath a flickering streetlight subtly changed color from orange to gray and back again, over and over with no discernible pattern. It was the dead of night yet a single figure lumbered down the middle of the street.         ...

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“Haunted Doll” by Jack Gorzo

Submitted to Contest #192

Antiques roadshows are not all they’re cracked up to be. It isn’t always a man in a nice suit telling you that a shattered watch you found in your late grandfather’s attic is actually worth $10,000. My experience was mostly standing awkwardly in a crowded convention center trying to find someone who would talk to me. I even bought a classy black dress for the occasion, hoping that it would somehow help my chances of leaving with a nice pay day. My arms were wrapped around a small cardboard box, holding what I hoped to be my jackpot.  &n...

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