Joe Smallwood

“Mark Sang” by Joe Smallwood

“Still a crackpot, huh?” Sara said over her lobster eggs benedict, talking about my erstwhile friend, Mark Sang, former app developer and Internet sensation. “Yeah, the deep end of all endings!” I chortled, digging into my gourmet pancake stack, fresh berries, edible flowers, and a drizzle of rare maple syrup. Everything was to impress Sara, so young and capable. Another convert, for me the company evangelist. Her resume was made to order, like our brunch, money no object. Who worked for a salary, anyway? You build a career with those oh so ...

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“Everything Unfiltered” by Joe Smallwood

Submitted to Contest #259

He wanted to force me off the road because I was driving at the speed limit. But the worst part was that I could feel and hear his rage, even his thoughts.“Damn tourist! Where did he learn how to drive?He sped by me, giving me the finger.Then, I heard everyone's thoughts when I got on the elevator at work. “That tie is so out of date…stop crowding me, idiot…I sure hope it's his cologne I smell and not his deodorant…See you! Baggy pants!The boss was full of questions, but it was what he was thinking that I couldn’t get out of my head.&nb...

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“Sis” by Joe Smallwood

Submitted to Contest #259

Sis didn’t like attention. “Oh, Foo Ferrah!” were her favorite words, especially if everyone else was having fun. But the hill was way too icy, and that last bump was killer. Her airborne toboggan banged down so hard, you could squish your jelly with your backbone, though mine was safe at the side of the hill. Through my frozen breath, I watched her roll away like a pro. She managed a smile right there at my feet, grimacing only when she looked away from me. “It was nothing! What are you staring at, Jeff?” she moaned, holding her mits with o...

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“Wandrin' Evil Spirit” by Joe Smallwood

Submitted to Contest #258

I don’t know how it came to be, so long ago when everything seemed possible.He was my inspiration. That and his photograph. Of what you ask?Oh, a demon! Uploaded it to YouTube, he did. So, a picture was formed in my mind from a video that shouldn’t exist. I can hardly get my mind around it. Its hard to even speak of it.But we all do what we must. And he certainly did what he wanted! Two children, one impossibly older, so ready to accept things…But we’ll have to start at the beginning. A hot summer’s day, so brutally hot. Hot enough to broil ...

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“My Yellow Fellow” by Joe Smallwood

Submitted to Contest #253

My husband, Daryl, and his peculiar behavior had been a growing concern, and these feelings I had about him lingered, refusing to dissipate. Unexplainable incidents disrupted our daily routine, leaving me perplexed and disoriented.I had a headache. No, it was a muscle ache. It was both. It was neither. He was the cause of it. And you know what? I would get nowhere if I tried to figure out why he changed.“You don’t cook your spaghetti anymore!” I accused him one night.“We eat out too much,” was his reply.“No, we don’t! Name the last time.”Dar...

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“Luca” by Joe Smallwood

Submitted to Contest #253

“I wish we could stay here forever,” Lucy breathed.We could have been sunning in brilliant Italy, our secret hideaway, lazy-assed and drunk on hope. I could have been there as support, her man, the one and only.I’m nearer to her than ever as she slips away, her eyes fading faster than the twilight outside her window.Outside is where hospital staff mill about on their breaks, smoking cigarettes and stomping them out, little sparks escaping from under their feet into the deepening night.The hospital room felt like a battlefield, the machines p...

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“Timing Being Everything” by Joe Smallwood

Submitted to Contest #253

"I just had a feeling," I say."Do you get those sometimes?" she retorts. “Since you lost your job, you’ve been a real pain!”Yeah, so there is that. We're near where she wants to go, and we'll be there soon.It's so hot this July in May, with the air conditioning shot and the car trembling in a turn, which tells me that air conditioning isn't the only problem. "Watch it!" She screams, grabbing the dashboard as I narrowly avoid the curb."Curb your enthusiasm," I think, playing with words in my mind. The road is a battlefield, our worn-out ...

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“We Can Be Heroes” by Joe Smallwood

Submitted to Contest #252

Her unexpected smile—from a bank teller, no less—was like a spell. Wanting my traveler's cheques cashed—in Vienna, I was charmed, vulnerable to her whims, colored cheeks, and rosy lips…This international language of twenty-somethings overcomes everything. Smiles are the start, followed by delicious looks and touching what has been touched. You know, papers pass between us. Then her halting English trumps my abysmal German so that we’re transcendent together, dreaming.Until she hands me too much money. Uh, what?I fumble for my phrase book. “E...

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“Frippery” by Joe Smallwood

Submitted to Contest #252

 “Narcotics bust, huh?” My father’s signature phrase, accompanied by his incredulous grin, signaled his habitual sarcasm, whether there had been a drug bust or not.The victim of his sarcasm would try to navigate the situation with their joke, a delicate dance of wit and survival. But in the end, you were either pulling the strings or left dangling. It was clear to me early on: I was always left dangling.Like all police officers, Fred never backed down. He meticulously followed the plan, giving people enough rope to hang themselves and w...

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“Amelia” by Joe Smallwood

Submitted to Contest #252

“You’re the cream in my coffee,” said Amelia, her brown curls wistfully falling. Ever deeper, down, down. “And I thought we would be together in what might be forever!”Vincent, who couldn’t be anywhere else, did his best.“It's always you!” Amelia's voice rose, her face contorted in a pout. “Which can be construed as maybe or never! I despise you!”Vincent tried to pout. It was an exploration that neither interested him nor could be ignored. “Oh, to be me!” he said.The vast ocean, its waves ceaseless, decided it was not in anyone's interest to...

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“One for All Time” by Joe Smallwood

Submitted to Contest #251

He had almost gotten used to living in that grimy bunker of World War II vintage, grey, impenetrably damp, such as the sun never warmed or broke the musty smell of endless wetness. He had learned when the gendarmes came that he had to take his “walks” with crutches to avoid being scooped up to become the plaything of doctors and veteran’s affairs administrators.“Non, pas besoin…” he would breathe through tuberculosis-scarred lungs, clinging to what shreds of dignity remained, our food once proferred, he would wait to eat after we left. Wait ...

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“Badlands Homecoming” by Joe Smallwood

Submitted to Contest #251

The badlands had ceased expanding, and there was just enough food to support one or two researchers—well, maybe only one—and that would be me.The bishop had his hands full. A guard saw me into his office, and the bishop sat waiting behind a huge, salvaged desk between us.The desk, a marvel, held my gaze. Its rich, brown hue was a testament to its unique origin, a strange wood with a veneer of such smoothness, partially burned away, creating a mesmerizing play of colors. I couldn't help but wonder about the lives that were risked to retr...

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“Payback” by Joe Smallwood

Submitted to Contest #250

I stole up to the back door like a drug dealer, searching for his stash. The porch was rotten, its railing swaying in the breeze. I steady it, thinking there is so much worth saving here. The wooden support beams are shot, I reckon. Nothing I built so long ago was ever done right.On this mousy night, the backlight plays to vehicular wreckage—dim nineties carcasses of everyone's pride and joy heaped together.“I’ll fix that one soon!” Johnny said six years ago. I'm still waiting on that! Could he rustle up more stolen garage queens to pay for ...

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“One_Up” by Joe Smallwood

Submitted to Contest #250

Rodent! Liar! It was supposed to be fun, not this ridiculous foofaraw where I can’t patch in but only hear pronouncements. Anyone could do that!“I thought you were premium support and extra paid up! Instead™, you’re privacy-shading me!”"That other voice you paid for never had too much to say. But you must hand it to them when they invented Instead™. It was a game-changer, always keeping things interesting," replied One_Up. “You can count on me to stay ahead of it!”The concert hall was vintage 20th-century. No accoutrements, not Ghezi certifi...

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“Bless Me Father...” by Joe Smallwood

Submitted to Contest #250

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been forever since my last confession.” The words echo in the confessional, and I can't help but wonder if they carry beyond these walls. I had been to a good Catholic School run by nuns—Saint Monica on the Fields.I was happy there. The good sisters were good, not like those horror stories of religious people gone astray. But that’s not why I’m the only person in this 1960s church on a Saturday afternoon—far from it!I’m here to go to confession! Everything I say is spiritually overheard by everyon...

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