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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jun, 2024
Submitted to Contest #320
Catching FireBy J. A. IRVING I’ve known George and Marisa for a long time. We fell in love with SF and the 1960s and ’70s together, as teens, and spent a lot of time reading and analyzing magazines from the ’50s and ’60s, watching Roddenberry-era Star Trek. We listened to The Beatles, Hendrix, Moog, Pink Floyd. We read Asimov, Heinlein, Clarke. Andre Norton. Poul Anderson. Space Opera. Robbie the Robot. From the planets to the stars. And of course, pulp-paper magazines with lurid covers. Complicating matters for me, at least, they became par...
Submitted to Contest #316
HAL’S MASK Hal of W’ik looked ahead, saddlebags and crossbow across his own shoulders since he had lost his horse – by his own folly earning an eagle’s Word of Ban. A double gentle arc of heavy rope crossed the River Cale between two tall oaks. He pulled himself to his feet on the branch he had reached and worked his way around to the makeshift bridge. A hint of wind rose and moved the trees imperceptibly; the ropes slowly flexed above the deep current. Here at the ropes’ end, the two strands came close together, but they drooped farther as...
Submitted to Contest #314
DESERT MEMORIESBy J. A. IRVINGIt was the hottest day of the year 1969 – or so they promised. The sun had just come up, and the California desert shadows still felt cold, but already the sun had weight when it leaned on you. Ben Bastion walked from the van where he had spent the night in the racers’ parking lot into the Costa Mesa International Raceway garage. His blonde curls seemed extra unruly: a typical case of pre-race nerves had kept him from resting well, even in a down-filled sleeping bag with a foam pad between him and the van’s ste...
Submitted to Contest #270
DAYBREAK DINER I pulled up in the yard at Aunt Mary’s Hometown Eats, early; black ravens and white gulls squabbled around the dumpster beside the kitchen door. My brother was already there in the late September predawn, waiting out front beside his eco-lovers’ Tesla. Just off the morning ferry from the city, he didn’t belong. Locals like me wore boot-cut blue jeans and ball caps; Jerry was in black skinny jeans and a fedora. We both wore plaid flannel shirts, open and untucked, over T-shirts, but his T was black. We’ve both gone grey, years ...
Submitted to Contest #262
DESERT MEMORIESBy J. A. IRVINGCalifornia desert, approaching the Seventies. The sun had just come up, and they said this would be the hottest day of the year. The shadows still felt cold, but already the sun had weight when it leaned on you. Ben Bastion walked from the van where he had spent the night in the racers’ parking lot into the Costa Mesa International Raceway garage. His blonde curls seemed extra unruly: a typical case of pre-race nerves had kept him from resting well, even in a down-filled sleeping bag with a foam pad between him ...
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