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Jack Kimball

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jan, 2023

Stories (52)

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141 Followers

124 Following

52 Stories

2166 karma pts

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Prodigy

Jack Kimball

Submitted to Contest #238

As if running a gauntlet, a night train speeds on gravity tracks between crumbling high-rises. Flame scarred brick apartment buildings stand like forgotten tombstones. Rubble spills onto wet black streets, a dream-like sheen. Graffiti streaks by spelling out bloated warnings, the train moving too fast to decipher the message.With rhythmic shudders, the train slows and enters a tunnel beneath the Hudson. Soon, a landing platform appears in stark white lights. The train breaks to a stop, the Grand Central Complex.A young man and woman de-board...

31 likes

Runner in the Rye

Jack Kimball

Submitted to Contest #235

“I’m sorry Granddad. It’s just Holly Hill is… is..."“I know, expensive," I said, saying what she couldn't.“That doesn’t mean you can’t live with me and Bill.”But seeing the way Annie put her hand to her chin as she was driving in the drizzling rain, the way she averted my eyes, how she teared up, we both knew there was no space in her tiny apartment.She pulled up to the light at the entrance to the mall, the traffic all backed up, the whites and reds of car lights in the gray light, the slow slapping of our windshield wipers. I looked around...

22 likes

Lifeboat

Jack Kimball

Submitted to Contest #233

In every direction the only sight was a skulking blue ocean, a silver mercury one day, a crystal blue the next. The only sound was the water slapping against the thirty feet of open boat. The only taste salt, the only smell fear. I marveled at how the sky dictated the color. Water is almost clear, I thought. It’s only the sky that gives it color; the sky is like an artist painting the sea. The sea has no knowledge of who paints it.It had been twenty-one days since our steamer floundered, New Year's Eve, 1890. There were eight of us and we'd ...

19 likes

Scarlet Guilt

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...

26 likes

Cabin Fever

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...

18 likes

The River of Time

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...

16 likes

The Words Change

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...

29 likes

Hope on the Mescalero

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...

22 likes

The Taking

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 ...

17 likes

Virgil’s Aeneas and the Founding of Rome

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...

17 likes

Shipwreck

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...

24 likes

Fish Story

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...

30 likes

St. Regis Showdown

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...

18 likes

Mr. Big Modernizes "The Tiger, the Brahmin, and the Jackal"

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...

16 likes

Gabriel's Horn

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. ...

32 likes