John Cardamone

“Jelly Beans” by John Cardamone

Submitted to Contest #291

It was the time of year—mid-summer, long days, hot weather—for the Langdon Farmers Mercantile Association’s annual company picnic and trade show. The event always brought robust crowds of employees and their families as well as fun-seekers of all stripes. There were rides, clowns, musical acts, acrobats, food stalls, crafters selling their wares, exhibits, demonstrations, and one or two local celebrities.Many of the employees volunteered for setup or cleanup duties. Aaron Fairfield was not one of them—he would much rather spend his time on h...

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“a bump on the head” by John Cardamone

i woke up this morning with a bump on my head and it hurt like the charles dickens so i asked my wife if she put the speed bump on my head for some reason and she said i wasnt even married to her and i said what do you mean and she said remember that time at our wedding and i wasnt there well she had a point of no return so i went downstairs to have a cup of coffee beans but i dont drink coffee i drink tea for two and i kissed my little daughter on her ponytail and i thought i dont even own a my little pony it must have escaped from the zoo ...

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“The Trip to Katie's Party” by John Cardamone

Submitted to Contest #288

This morning, I stood in the relentless rain, a half-eaten glazed donut in one hand, an inadequate umbrella in the other. Bosco, my dog, was out doing his business (the reason we were both getting drenched) when I dropped the slippery donut onto some newly erected condominiums of mushrooms. I had never seen this variety of mushroom, so I scooped a few up to make an omelet while my wife got ready for the party. With Bosco relieved, the omelet devoured, and the Sunday morning paper drying in the oven, I went to take a hot shower. We had a...

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“Temporary Secretary” by John Cardamone

Submitted to Contest #285

Good afternoon, Stubbings and Merch. How may I help you? Hi, could I speak with Randy? I’m sorry. Randy who? Randy... uh, Macardo. I think you have the wrong number; there is no Randy Macardo here. Is there another Randy there? Um, let’s see... doo doo doo da dum. No, I don’t see any Randy here. Oh. Yeah, sorry about that. Why don’t you try calling again? Maybe you misdialed. Okay, I’ll do that. Thanks. You’re welcome. Have a nice day. ......... Good afternoon, Stubbings and Merch. How may I help you? Randy, please. Oh, it’s you. Sorry, we j...

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“The Broken Mirror” by John Cardamone

Submitted to Contest #284

My brother was born twelve minutes before me, his twin sister, and thus our differing paths in life commenced. Mother told me he was still crying when I was ejected, and so his newborn squalls were the first sounds I heard. She also said boys usually cry more than girls, but how would she know?—she only had the two of us. Mother didn’t mind his crying; she said it strengthened his lungs. Is this the reason I can barely make it up the stairs, even now, at 26, without getting winded? Logan is the mildly overweight one, not me; I’m a rail. I’m ...

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