John Steckley

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Aug, 2019

Stories (50)

50 Stories

851 karma pts

?

“It has been Three Weeks.” by John Steckley

Submitted on 07/29/2020

It Has Been Three Weeks. Lily thought to herself, almost like speaking it was so loud inside her head. “It has now been three weeks since my dear Roger died. I am walking down a familiar sidewalk alone. There’s going to be a lot of that from now on. It will certainly be a long time, maybe never that I will find his like again. Our relationship wasn’t very long, but it was so powe...

3 comments 3
Read story

“In a Dark Moor with the Beast of Bodmin” by John Steckley

Submitted on 07/17/2020

In a Dark Moor with the Beast of Bodmin I am in the midst of a misty moor. It is the kind of place that fills my mind with scary images, of Dartmoor, with huge ghostly dogs like the Hound of the Baskervilles and of escaped prisoners hiding, ready to pounce on unsuspecting travellers. And this is Bodmin Moor, where, in a Daphne Du Maurier classic, Jamaica Inn, a fanatical fictional gang-le...

10 comments 10
Read story

“The Answer is in the Sky” by John Steckley

Submitted on 07/14/2020

The Answer is in the Sky So I was back in the tree house again, Lord over all I surveyed. Well at least the backyard anyway, where I sat alone over an uncut lawn and a garden that had needed weeding for quite sometime So many happy times I’ve had here. So much looking up at the sky and letting my imagination run like a wild horse in a meadow as I watched the clouds and gave their shapes names. Named the b...

7 comments 7
Read story

“Waiting for a Bus” by John Steckley

Submitted on 07/04/2020

Waiting for a Bus Two people, a woman, and a man are sitting together at a bar. They were a few seats away from each other up until a few minutes before, but she moved over to talk to him. “Hi, my name is Jody. I’m new in town. I have a story about what happened today while I was waiting for a bus. I really need to tell someone about it, and I don’t know anyone. So if you don’t mind, I’m going to tell you...

9 comments 9
Read story

“Origin story: A Dog's Life” by John Steckley

Submitted on 06/27/2020

Origin Story: A Dog’s LifeIt was the beginning of the new and the newsworthy. But it was also the end of old and the anonymous. The day started off as many had before it. It was six o’clock in the morning and I was taking a walk in the park with my labradoodle Ross. Labradoodles are part Labrador retriever, part poodle, and in his case seem part kangaroo as well. He has black curly hair, kind of what you might expect on a shag rug. As usual we had both to compromise as to what speed we should tr...

0 comments 0
Read story

“Looking Through a Window” by John Steckley

Submitted on 06/22/2020

Looking Through a Window You looked out the window and, not for...

3 comments 3
Read story

“So You Received This Letter Today.” by John Steckley

Submitted on 06/20/2020

So You Received This Letter Today Scene One: A Lawyer’s Office “So you received this letter today. That is why you wanted to see me so urgently.” The lawyer in the gray suit then picked up the letter, and read it out loud. “Dear John: I know that you will be surprised by this letter. You think I am visiting with my sick cousin Elizabeth for a week. Bu...

0 comments 0
Read story

“An Adventure in a Writer's Circle.” by John Steckley

Submitted on 06/14/2020

An Adventure in a Writer’s Circle The 10 writers sat in a circle like the famed knights of Camelot reportedly did.  Only they did not wave sharp swords about and were not weighed down with heavy armour. The weapons of choice for this writers circle were pens and pencils (the latter for those expecting errors), which they would wield with words on pads of paper. They were a mixed group, male and fem...

1 comment 1
Read story

“It's Been a While” by John Steckley

Submitted on 06/13/2020

It’s Been A While It’s been a long while since I’ve tried to do this. I wonder if writers today ever take pen in hand like I have just done, and began their story that way. I just can’t see starting a story on a computer. There seems to me to be a distance from the writer somehow. But then I don’t seem to be able to start the old way either. I know this particular sitting is going nowhere, so I will put th...

8 comments 8
Read story

“A Black and White Story” by John Steckley

Submitted on 06/07/2020

A Black and White Story He was perfect in an ‘all parts fit together into one picture’ way. He was a big, tall Black man standing in the snow beside the laundromat, leaning on his dark car. What really made for the completion of the image was the long, fat cigar that he held in his left hand. It smoked like a gun just fired. The words ‘Big Daddy’ sprang into my mind like a long forgotten song title.            We walked up to him and compl...

0 comments 0
Read story

“There is this island” by John Steckley

Submitted on 06/06/2020

There Is this IslandThe Island There is this island. Actually, it is barely, technically, an island, surrounded by the two main streams of a usually sleepy river. But there are two bridges that join the island to what the locals call ‘the mainland.’ They have long called those living on the other side of those bridges “mainlanders”, but since the Diana Galbadon books and the popular television series, they started labelling them ‘outlanders’. There is a main street that links both...

0 comments 0
Read story

“You See Sir” by John Steckley

Submitted on 05/30/2020

“You See Sir” “You see sir, the truth is, I’m a leprechaun.” As Patrick looked at the small man, thin and short, sort of withered like an old leather belt, he could almost believe what he had just been told. The problem with that interpretation was that Patrick had just come out of the local Irish pub, and the small man was standing in the alleyway just beside it. He pretty much knew what was going to come next – an appeal for money, whatever he could spare, or words similar to that. “I was wondering...

3 comments 3
Read story

“Transformations” by John Steckley

Submitted on 05/23/2020

Transformations           The sky is white in late winter/early sprig mist. It is like the heavens have no height, but exist just as a hovering presence, like smoke from fireplaces in a deep, cold northern valley in the winter. I am out in the backyard knocking the snow off of the drooping branches of a spruce tree I am particularly fond of. I like to see the branches standing high and proud, not weighed down with snow, like it has suffered some loss.

2 comments 2
Read story

“The Table Lighter” by John Steckley

Submitted on 05/23/2020

The Table LighterA Young Man Writes At the last week of every summer of my life from age 9 to 19 I would go downtown to the annual exhibition. I, of course, loved the rides, the junk food, the freak show (Dainty Dora at 600 plus pounds and The Lobster Boy, whose middle fingers and toes were fused with his thumb or big toe and pinky finger or toe), and, as a teenager, the bands, and the girls. But the main attraction for me was a particular arcade game. I would deposit my dime and use a...

0 comments 0
Read story

“Just the Way You Look Tonight.” by John Steckley

Submitted on 05/18/2020

Just the Way You Look Tonight           “I love you, just the way you look tonight.” He would certainly sing those words from the old song concerning the woman he was looking at right now. On a dare to himself, he had decided to go to this all-ages singles dance in the community centre. He felt that he had nothing to lose as there was no one important in his life at the time. Friends and close relationships from his past had all long ago en...

5 comments 5
Read story

Author bio

I am a retired college professor who researches and writes about Indigenous languages and cultures. My specialty is the Wendat/Wyandot language.