Jack Kimball

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jan, 2023

Stories (34)

34 Stories

1565 karma pts

?

“Scarlet Guilt” by Jack Kimball

Submitted to Contest #230

“I should have read the warning label,” he said with a grimaced smile, bringing two fingers to his mouth as if inhaling a cigarette. With a heart rate monitor calling down the time, the man lay in a hospital bed. Both wrists were taking in fluids from a drip hanging in suspension, and his wife Martha was across from him in a chair. The room was institutional green.Martha stood and walked to the window. A drizzling gray rain. “Please don’t joke. Not now.”Yes, a joke, he thought to himself. On both myself and this woman. This woman with flawle...

13 comments 13
Read story

“Cabin Fever” by Jack Kimball

Submitted to Contest #227

•───────•∞•Ж•∞•───────•Then the storm broke and was replaced the next morning with a frozen 1880s blue sky, the kind when after the clouds clear the world shuts down with a blinding but heartless sun, no wind, and dead quiet. Jason and Bill huddled around the cabin's only wood burner. Above them, the pine timbers groaned and complained with the weight of the storm’s snow, over twenty feet on the roof; but what dropped their stomach into a mine shaft was the sharp crack about every ten minutes, a sound like a double barrel going off in the ra...

27 comments 27
Read story

“The River of Time” by Jack Kimball

Submitted to Contest #223

The truth is Jason may not have killed himself. Sure, we all knew the statistics about university students doing themselves in while pursuing dead end rip off degrees. “My generation will never have the lifestyle yours has. Baby boomer trips to Greece or Rome. River cruises on the Danube. We’re stuck in dead-end jobs, in my case manager of the convenience store near the airport. You know the one. People coming in all day after getting off a flight, coming from places we will never go. At night the homeless straggle in for warmth, gloves with...

12 comments 12
Read story

“The Words Change” by Jack Kimball

Submitted to Contest #206

“The words change,” she’d whisper to me at night in our bedroom, winter sleet against the windowpane. “They shift," she’d say, her eyes runny, terrorized, hidden in shadow.I didn’t know what she meant.My wife would come down to breakfast, not eat, just pick at her eggs, red-orange yolks. The kitchen air would crackle, an electrical charge in her presence. The smell of burnt wire. Her nails were chewed to the hub; tattered band-aids wrapped her fingers, blood seeped through. She'd left her senses by then; her face waxy, white, glistening. But...

23 comments 23
Read story

“Hope on the Mescalero” by Jack Kimball

Submitted to Contest #204

The young man lay staked out, his arms and legs spreadeagled. He’d been dead for some time, chewed on by wolves.Jeb'd been tracking near three days on the Mescalero high desert. Endless flat grasses, peyote cactus, sagebrush, and an uncaring wind under a blistering sun. At the end of the third day, with the sun dropping in a pink, cloudless sky, he loped over a low rise and found the young man.He studied the ground. Then he pushed up his brown sweat stained Stetson, exposing a stark white forehead beneath a receding hairline. He spit, and us...

19 comments 19
Read story

“The Taking” by Jack Kimball

Submitted to Contest #203

Serial #1: The Taking (This is the first of a serial written for this prompt, not published.)____“William, wake up.” Carol was jostling me. I hadn’t slept long; the room was still dark, shadows just before dawn. “What?” The alarm showed 5:12 AM. “Someone’s in the house. The living room.” Carol pulled me in tight with both hands. I could tell she felt scared. Really scared. I didn’t wait. The bedside table on my side held a small .22 revolver. The only time I’d ever fired it was in a half day lesson I took after the riots ...

21 comments 21
Read story

“Virgil’s Aeneas and the Founding of Rome” by Jack Kimball

Submitted to Contest #197

“Is it fate, or us, ending the world?” The admiral asked the question, but to him the answer would not come from the doctor, but the bright star to the west where the sun had just set. The night sky opened as a stage, and there, Venus, a false star, beckoned. The admiral listened. What did his god mother ask of him now? And would he listen?The doctor dismissed the admiral’s question, to him an enquiry to a deaf heaven. To ask a star, even the brightest, where their fate was headed, seemed the logic of a child from what he could tell. “W...

10 comments 10
Read story

“Shipwreck” by Jack Kimball

Submitted to Contest #195

Tuesday, January 23rd, 190610:06 AMIf Joe was told the sea was not vengeful, did not take pleasure in, did not revel in, the murder of helpless souls, he wouldn’t believe it; for the sea at that moment was a howling rage, purposely dragging him from the rocks at Pachena Point, plunging him beneath the surging tide. He once again came to the surface, coughing, eschewing seawater, his bare feet scrambling on the slimed green ledge beneath the swell, fighting to gain a foothold.His head now barely above water, he gasped for breath in the freezi...

25 comments 25
Read story

“Fish Story” by Jack Kimball

Submitted to Contest #191

In the pink sagebrush dawn, a herd of better than thirty brown-hided antelope stare at me from a hundred yards. I slow when my jeep makes the turn and they dart off as one, like an earth-bound flock of brown and white starlings locked in formation. They're soon lost on the featureless plain. Speeding back up, the four wheel drive rumbles down a mud road, crosses snow still left from winter in patched places, powers through, and then after miles of prairie flat, comes to the trailhead on the western slope of the range. I unload my p...

29 comments 29
Read story

“St. Regis Showdown” by Jack Kimball

Submitted to Contest #190

After boarding the Boeing 737, I take my window seat in first class and try not to be noticed. Pretending to fidget with the tray table, I hide behind my EarPods (Taylor Swift in a resounding beat, ‘…and even though you want to, please try to never grow up,’ goes on and on). Now undisturbed in my shell, I check out the other passengers: a well-dressed man across the aisle in a cowboy hat drinking some kind of brown liquor on ice; sitting in the two seats in front of him is a middle-aged cashmere clad couple, both reading from i-Pads, th...

20 comments 20
Read story

“Mr. Big Modernizes "The Tiger, the Brahmin, and the Jackal"” by Jack Kimball

Submitted to Contest #189

Warning: Light violence and profanity.‘Mr. Big’ is a covert investigation procedure used by undercover police to elicit confessions from suspects in cold cases (usually murder)._______People think the worst of me, but I’ve got my reasons. And sure, the girl got me back to the world, but she should’a known you don’t go after a con. Once upon a time, in a land long ago, a tiger was caught in a cage. He paced and paced and thought long and hard on how he could get out. One day, a Brahmin woman, who was a rare beauty and high caste, di...

15 comments 15
Read story

“Gabriel's Horn” by Jack Kimball

Submitted to Contest #188

The old man knocked tobacco out of his long-stem pipe. “I would like you to solve the mystery of happiness,” he said, pointing his white eyebrows at me.The only thing I hoped to solve was finding my way out through the labyrinth of corridors in my uncle’s estate. Hell, I barely graduated from State three months ago. And the only thing my Creative Writing major did was land me a waiter gig at The Ram’s Head Steakhouse in town. Solve the mystery of happiness? I knew Uncle Clarence was some industry titan—but really?He kept right at it though. ...

43 comments 43
Read story

“Cats!” by Jack Kimball

Submitted to Contest #187

“I know you think I’m crazy, but I’ve found myself.”He’d gone over and was in real trouble; I mean Jack Nicholson Shining trouble. And when he said crazy I heard a whisper in my ear—you are NOT a trained psychologist. Yes, beyond my capability to help, way beyond.Yet, I grew up with my kid brother; I took care of him all the way through high school. Our dad worked at the mill double time, and Mom passed when we were both kids. So it was up to me, Dad said, when he wasn’t around, which was always. It was the little things I remembered more th...

56 comments 56
Read story

“Tragedy” by Jack Kimball

Submitted to Contest #186

The Abbey Theater is alive. It is the season of ‘deeper thoughts and emotions’, the season of Yeats and Lady Gregory, the season of plays. And there on stage, with deeper thoughts and emotions, in welcomed applause, stands Sir Edward Forester, the playwright, the director, and the reason for the full house.The stage is set as a gentleman’s study, a library, a table, a grand fireplace, two souls. The one, old Sir Edward is a man aged in a most beneficial way, gray bearded, distinguished. He’s joined by his nephew, blood of the same ...

14 comments 14
Read story

“Henkin’s Mellified Honey” by Jack Kimball

Submitted to Contest #185

According to Wikipedia, for at least 2,700 years honey has been used by humans to treat a variety of ailments through topical application. The contents of the mellification process however would turn the honey into ‘sort of a confection reputedly capable of healing broken limbs and other ailments. This confection would then be sold in street markets as a hard to find item with a hefty price’. “Do you think he’s ready?” The only care remaining in Ann Henkins was for her son, John Jr., who everyone called Little John. She wanted to p...

21 comments 21
Read story

Author bio

I won’t ‘like’ your story unless I’ve read it, and then I will offer a comment or critique. If you’ve commented on my story, I will look you up, read your story, and offer a comment or critique in turn. Isn’t that how it’s supposed to work? jack@jack-kimall.com www.jack-kimball.com