John Bryan

“Tonight, I hide” by John Bryan

I am an apex predator but, tonight, I hide. Moonlight bleeds through the fractured canopy of trees overhead. At night, the forest mischievously blurs earthly realities and fey otherworldliness. I remain motionless, crisp leaves underfoot, searching the surroundings. Unnatural dangers lie beneath nature's sounds and sights. An uneasy darkness enshrouds these woods. Shadows appear suddenly, then eclipsed by the trees. Woodland creatures scurry under brush and thickets. Within the blackest pockets, reflective orbs watch my every move. Persiste...

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“Accidentally Better” by John Bryan

Submitted to Contest #267

Pu'Dant Chemical Corporation's three-story warehouse casts a dark shadow over the shipment dock. An unlovely, impersonable structure built with concrete and steel by a former Russian architect who, apparently, clings romantically (if there could be such irony) to cold-war Soviet Modernism.Large steel barrels marked with ominous symbols are clustered and stacked. The drums are painted black, marked with rust and scratches caused by the robotic arms that lift and drop them from sea to shore.Steve flicks his badge across the gate's automatic lo...

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“What did you get "me" for "his" birthday?” by John Bryan

Submitted to Contest #267

'Happy Birthday Carl' lettered quite perfectly with blue cursive icing on a white-frosted cake. Six candles ablaze. One for each year, and the last for good luck. It is decorated with thick red, blue and yellow sugary balloons and topped with a bright red firetruck, Carl's preferred toy. "How touching," Chris mocks with grim sobriety."It looks good," Chris laments. "Too good to be sitting on the countertop. Why not adorn it with the Great Star of Africa and leave it under impenetrable plexiglass or smoosh it on canvas, frame it, and hang it ...

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“The Storm of the Century” by John Bryan

Submitted to Contest #266

Only the clock knew the time. Outside, sheets of snow fall under layers of clouds, concealing day or night. But for the light glowing atop, the streetlamp barely visible. A halo in the darkness. Tomorrow, the Times' front page will read, "The Storm of the Century!"Maria, wearing a snow-white dress, delicately laced, peeks behind the creme-colored drapes again, as she has every 5 minutes for the past two-hours. Nothing visible at first. However, in the distance, a figure, perhaps a man, walks briskly wearing a black fog coat and lar...

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“The man I have never met before...” by John Bryan

[I just re-read my story. Among other things, it needs some sort of preface to make sense. I was inspired by a practice in Oklahoma where bikers escort abuse victims to court. I didn’t enter this writing to the contest. In hindsight, I would have revealed the nature of the inspiration somewhere in the text. If someone reads this thing, perhaps they could share ideas about giving this writing a little more clarity. I suppose I write ‘feelings’ more than substance, but a story needs both - and I am a mere casual writer without true aspirations...

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“Do you believe?” by John Bryan

Submitted to Contest #264

"Could you imagine yourself standing up there?""Ha, not really" I smirk."This isn't my scene either" she adds, "but I like the concept."Wendy and I stand just inside the Chapel's atrium during this standing-room affair. Saint Patrick is the oldest and most prestigious church in the state. It's the place where the Who's Who congregate, mourn and celebrate. Just this past year, there was a Presidential speech, a previous 4-term Senator's funeral, several baptisms for the Elites, and a series of high-profile weddings.Wendy and I are not among t...

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“One plus One” by John Bryan

Submitted to Contest #264

Rebecca rests her hand on my leg as our Sentra pulls up to a set of tall, ornate gates. Golden cherubs climb the gilded bars, a few blow trumpets, and one offers a mischievous smile to visitors. "His parents are well-to-do" Rebecca explains. "I see." "They're actually down-to-earth and not judgmental." "His parents or those chubby gatekeepers?" Rebecca smiles, squeezes my thigh, and we drive inside. * I pull between two Mercedes couched between two other immaculate foreign sports cars. I washed the Sentra b...

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