John Maygrove

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Aug, 2020

Stories (5)

5 Stories

98 karma pts

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“Twelve Angry Scavengers” by John Maygrove

Silence in the gymnasium. Six people sat, dirty faced and exhausted, waiting for something, anything to happen. They stirred from their reverie as one to the sound of footsteps, the way a gazelle might respond to the sound of a branch breaking. Three more joined them. Two were armed, one with a handgun, one with a rifle slung casually over his shoulder. The other carried armfuls of canned produce, which he unloaded haphazardly onto a folding table and began arranging them, a single can caught moments before rolling off the tab...

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“Solo” by John Maygrove

I hate them all, phony wannabies with crocodile smiles and frappe lattes. Sure, they greet you fine, but it's all superficial. Doorman? He has a name, I think. A Dennis or Dave or Dereck. Greets you cordially when you get home. Sometimes even get a how-was-your-day-sir. Quickly learned he's not that interested. “Bit of a shitter,” I replied once when new and filled with misguided and swiftly failing optimism about my big...

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“Descent” by John Maygrove

For ten weeks he tosses and turns like a skiff in a storm, the elusive embrace of sleep constantly taunting him from a land beyond consciousness. He survives off the snatches of slumber he is able to grasp, though he awakens unsatisfied, his frustrations building. His only respite from his nightly torment is the rejuvenating light of the sun through the curtains. His wife, frustrated, suffers similar misfortune, a by-product of his condition. Her sleep is equally intermittent, her temper short.After nine weeks, he is awa...

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“She thought, He thought” by John Maygrove

Is that him?Fiona eyes the entering patrons suspiciously, idly peeling at the loose corner of her phone’s screen protector. A lanky ginger with thick glasses and prominent teeth ogles her as he strolls from the door to the bar.Oh, please no!Katie has informed her to look out for a red scarf, but it’s unseasonably war...

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“Mackie's House” by John Maygrove

Old Mackie’s house had not changed in over two hundred years, a fact that the stubborn curmudgeon was immensely proud of. He took to change about as well a cuprolaminophobe, discarding most modern innovations as worthless pennies. On a street lined with contemporary sleek houses, his stood out through anachrony. Cost was never an issue, for the old man was wealthy beyond measure, but material goods never held much sway for him; he was quite content to wander the grounds of his crumbling estate, surveying the moss as it overtook what was o...

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