Jessica Cushman

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Apr, 2020

Stories (4)

4 Stories

64 karma pts

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“One for the Road” by Jessica Cushman

Submitted to Contest #42

“That’s your third scotch.”“Yeah? What of it?” The man loosened his black tie and downed half the drink. There’d be no ice in the next one. “Nothing, I guess. You just seemed bothered by something.”“What the hell do you know?” He stood and stripped off his stiff, black suit jacket, then shook his near empty glass at a harried looking waitress passing by. She thought she was having a rough day? She should try being stuffed in a wool cage on a one-hundred-degree day. Christ, the majority of Americans had become sniveling wimps. “It was a nice ...

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“Lost Dog (don't bother looking)” by Jessica Cushman

Submitted to Contest #41

“Mrs. Black?”“Yes. Mr. Doe, I presume?”“That’s me.”“Thank you for meeting with me.”“I can’t say no to a beautiful woman.”“Well that’s kind of awkward.”“So . . . you have a problem that needs to be solved?”“Correct.”“Husband?”“What? No! No, no, no.”“Just a guess. Most often it’s the spouse. Who is it then?”“My husband’s dog.”“A dog?”“Yes. And keep your voice down. We’re not the only ones in this park.”“You want me to take care of a dog?”“Shhh. People are watching us.”“No they’re not, you’re nervous. First time you’ve had someone taken care of...

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“Pixie” by Jessica Cushman

Submitted to Contest #40

“I don’t know about you, Mom, but that’s the best damn cornbread I’ve ever had.” I lean back and rub my tummy. I’ve got a food baby for sure.“Tastes like they soaked it in honey butter,” I mutter to the dollar covered ceiling. From my slouched position I see the waitress edging towards our table, fingers twisting a sable curl. She eyes me warily as she walks over and, reluctantly, I remove my hand from the button of my jeans. “All done with this, ma’am?” The waitress, Linda, stares at my plate, nothing left but ribs bones, traces of barbeque...

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“Falling” by Jessica Cushman

Submitted to Contest #39

“I thought I was the last person on Earth.” She stood in the doorway, hand cupped over her eyes, blocking the sun and his entrance. The sun seemed to get brighter, hotter, every day. But maybe that was early on-set menopause talking. The menopause she’d never had the chance to confirm, thanks to the world taking a crap. “You thought you were the last person on Earth yet the door was locked?” A faded green duffle bag rested on his dusty cowboy boots. Boots that she hated on sight. He looked her over, eyes lingering on her breasts in that appr...

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Author bio

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