John Laird

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Oct, 2020

Stories (6)

6 Stories

104 karma pts

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“Redemption” by John Laird

Submitted to Contest #70

REDEMPTION Although seated some distance away, the woman had distracted Simon enough to cost him his speed chess game against Charlie—one of the oldest chess hustlers in Roosevelt Park—along with their ten-dollar bet. She was sitting at a table under one of the giant cottonwood trees scattered throughout the green, urban oasis, staring at the chess game laid out in front of her, her defeated opponent having already vanished. A sense of unease, of apprehension, grew within Simon as he approached her. The young woman wore a tailored,...

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“Dr. Frosty” by John Laird

Submitted to Contest #69

Dr. Frosty The snowman stood glistening in the glow from the porch light. Eli Solomon, his breath misting in the twenty-degree air around him, watched the slow graying of the six-a.m. darkness with a growing sense of urgency. He and the snowman, Dr. Frosty, were ready for their trip, but with a six-hour drive still ahead of them, Eli just hoped that it wasn’t too late. Eli had backed the rented, refrigerated truck into their driveway, the cargo door open, and the liftgate l...

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“Change” by John Laird

Submitted to Contest #68

CHANGE The bartender finished tending to the customer at the end of the bar and ambled back, a dish towel draped over his left shoulder. “So, Andy, you out slumming tonight, or what? No hot date?” Andrew winced. He didn’t like the name Andy but gave Sam a pass since the bar was his frequent refuge. He looked down, concentrating on standing a quarter on its edge. Fortunately, the bar’s surface was somewhat level and the quarter new. It joined its two upright companions. “Yeah, Sam, taking a break. Recharging the ol’ batteries, so to spea...

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“A Few Minutes More” by John Laird

Submitted to Contest #67

A Few More Minutes Dana felt it—a gritty movement in her throat under his thumbs, a faint, almost audible vibration as the cartilage of her trachea was fractured and crushed. Her eyes drifted away from her abductor, his body pinning her to the floor. She watched her left hand release his shirt and fall limply to the floor, joining the other that previously struck at her tormenter. Her legs had stopped their thrashing, her feet their pounding. The killer was still leaning forward with crushing pressure, gasping, and groaning, his spittle ...

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“The Marathon” by John Laird

Submitted to Contest #66

The Marathon My name is Samuel Winston and I have a story to tell. But first, a little history before we get to the main course, so bear with me. My wife, Melody, and I were in our late twenties when we met Jacob and Laurie Larrabee. Newly married, we were moving into our new home in Palo Duro. Shortly after the truckers finished unloading and transferring our belongings into our home, our neighbors appeared on our doorstep, welcoming us to the neighborhood. The elderly, gray-haired woman held forth an aluminum foil-covered casserole dis...

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“Dead But Not Gone” by John Laird

Submitted to Contest #65

DEAD BUT NOT GONE It was Halloween. He pulled into the timeworn cemetery using the Arsenal Road entrance, his old Ford Torino bumping and shuddering over the uneven hardpan. The cemetery’s roadway wasn’t all that bad Jimmy mused; his car just didn’t handle anything very well other than smooth pavement. It was an ancient graveyard, but the county caretakers did a decent job of keeping the one-lane roadway passable as it snaked its way through the two-acre site. The Ford’s headlights illuminated tombstones as the car crept by, its driver...

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Author bio

Born and raised in Michigan, attended college in California and worked 31 years in law enforcement in Michigan and New Mexico. Now retired and living in Florida with my wife.