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John Rutherford

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Mar, 2023

Stories (34)
Comments
Library
270 Followers
581 Following

34 Stories

2422 karma pts

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Something in the Wind

Submitted to Contest #240

Sexual themes, crude language.“Skinny Cap, please!” I said to the overworked girl, trying to keep up with the long waiting queue of customers, each morning. She always struggled, sometimes alone, but always with a friendly smile, the whirlwind of arms and hands playing the barista coffee machine in perfect allegro time like a musical maestro, but without the rapturous watching awe of the listening audience, except, that is, until the cup of the frothy nectar was placed on the counter.“Here’s to my number one best follower, and customer, stal...

32 likes 15 comments 15
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Newton's cradle

Submitted to Contest #239

Something was wrong. Fatally wrong. He couldn’t grasp the reason for his anxiousness.As Clive stepped onto the platform at precisely 06:05 and 35 seconds waiting for his early morning commuter train, something was wrong, he thought. Something was not right. In those moments in his life, his mind concentrated on an image of Newton’s cradle, it was idle, motionless, the big brass orbs, dangling from the brass cradle, all were stationary, passive and still, but there was a sense of anticipation, the orbs were oscillating in anticipation of move...

26 likes 8 comments 8
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SEVEN

Submitted to Contest #197

SEVEN – the lands of constraint and the infinitesimal. The lands were governed by seven rulers, representing, two eyes, two ears, two nostrils, and one mouth – named The Seven. These seven ruling figures governed by the dogma handed down from generations upon generations. No one questioned the dogma; it was followed blindly in every minute detail. Life itself was constrained by the dogma, tenets for a human life, all lives. In each life there were seven stages, each one was named an epoch. Seven epochs made up one living creature’s life...

26 likes 20 comments 20
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Winning ticket

Submitted to Contest #195

Dot stared hard at her stewed cup of tea, clenched tightly between hands, as though she were praying at an altar. Thinking deeply about her life and her problems. It was a normal day, sitting in Jim’s café along the road from Liverpool Street station, waiting for her son to arrive by bus from his school. Good hearted Jim, the owner of the small café, generously served Dot her afternoon tea without opening the till. Jim was from Glasgow, a broad red-faced man, who had owned the café before Dot arrived in the area. The café was small, just a h...

20 likes 9 comments 9
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