John Steckley

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Aug, 2019

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38 Stories

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“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.

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“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...

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“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...

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“What is She? What is She doing that is so Strange?” by John Steckley

Submitted on 05/09/2020

What is She? What is She doing that is so Strange? Her problems all started one morning when she was young and completely by herself. She did not know why she made the decision that she did. There was no one older around to indicate that what she was doing was seriously wrong for one of her species.  She did it initially just on a whim, something she just wanted to try. She was curious about what it would be like to experience the sensations it involved.  She enjoyed it more than she thought she w...

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

Submitted on 05/09/2020

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-leader named Joss Merlyn led a mad, drunken band of wreckers. In the book and in my mind they lured ship’s...

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“Three Friends on a Date” by John Steckley

Submitted on 05/03/2020

Three Friends on a Date The three friends, Mike, Steve and Dave had not had a date since they graduated from high school together, went to college together and set up their own heating/air-conditioning repair service together. Their excuse had been that they had been way too busy, which was true to a certain extent. So, at age 26, they arranged with a local dating service to procure three young women for a date at a dance club that they had frequented as teenagers. None of the guys wanted to ‘go it alone’, so it wa...

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“The Big Picture” by John Steckley

Submitted on 04/28/2020

The Big Picture Walter was a good photographer, one of the best in the business even if he did say so himself. He said that his ‘great gift’ was the ability to see what others could not, and then capture that vision so that others could share in his ‘genius’. His ‘great flaw’, not that he would ever admit to it, was his overpowering competitiveness, especially as it rose to the dizzying heights of arrogance. That was especially true in his relationship to his brother Elliot, who was also a phot...

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“He Stared Up Into the Stars” by John Steckley

Submitted on 04/24/2020

He Stared Up Into the Stars He stared up into the stars. It was a clear night in the last week of April. All the familiar sky bodies were twinkling in their usual places. He should know what they are and where they should be. For 60 years now he had barely missed viewing the late April sky on such a night. Now that he was no longer in school, he wasn’t distracted by homework, or the guilt-inducing looks of his parents when they told him he was “night-time day-dreaming” when he went out to look at the...

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“A Man and a Dog in Close Captivity” by John Steckley

Submitted on 04/19/2020

A Man and a Dog in Close Captivity I feel like I have been kidnapped and kept in close captivity. I spend pretty much all day in one place, leaving only to walk the dog and buy a few necessities (there is a long lineup at the beer store).  Part of it, of course is the covid-19 quarantine. But there is also the matter of in the month of March my being put under witness protection until a trial (I hope it is virtual) a month away. While walking my dog one dark evening, I stopped to pick up his poop...

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“You're Not Who You Think You Are” by John Steckley

Submitted on 04/11/2020

You’re Not Who You Think You Are Dun Dun Dun    Dun Dun     Dun Dun “Okay, I hear you, I hear you. Now if you could only tell me where you are, you bloody phone. Why did I ever program you to play ‘Smoke on the Water’? Sure it is my father’s favourite song, and I respect his good taste in music. But I am sick and tired of hearing the ring, only to have somebody I don’t know trying to offer me a deal I don’t need or complete a survey I don’t wan...

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“You see, I'm a magician” by John Steckley

Submitted on 04/05/2020

 You see, I’m a magician March 13Dear Diary: You see, I’m a magician. And it can be a tricky business. I write that as if it is news to me. But I want these diary entries to be recorded. I won’t be around this place long, so I want the story told. I’ve already left a note beside t...

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“Dmitro's Diary” by John Steckley

Submitted on 04/03/2020

Dimitro’s Diary          December 1, 1905 I can’t sleep. I am so excited. My mother gave me this journal that in English is called a “diary”. She says my life is starting again so I should write about it. I practice English every day. I will write in English. It is my new language.           We are on a ship crossing the Atlantic Ocean. We are leaving our home in Kiev, and trave...

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“A Walk in the Park” by John Steckley

Submitted on 03/29/2020

 A Walk in the Park  All winter long I have been looking forward to doing this – taking a walk in the park in the early evening with the sun still illuminating the sky. For me, dark and cold in the evening combine like the two hardened fists of a seasoned boxer.  I need to escape them now. They have punched me too much of late.  Light and warm are so different. They don’t attack me...

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“Tunnel Vision” by John Steckley

Submitted on 03/22/2020

Tunnel Vision Tom had just bought a house. It was a relatively small brick house built sometime in the early 1960s. It had no particular visual appeal in any of its mundane features, and had only a one car garage. It did possess, however, a roomy backyard surrounded by mid-sized trees at the furthest end. Most of them were maple, a few were white ash. All of them coddled at least one nest in its outstretched branches. Tom felt that...

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“Whether or Not” by John Steckley

Submitted on 03/15/2020

Whether or Not  He couldn’t decide whether or not to do it. With his heart he wanted to, but his self-confidence argued the other side quite convincingly. He had known her for a few years, pretty much just as a face and a name. At the Sunday School Picnic, when they both were 13, the two of them had been walking by the river in opposite directions.  Neither wanted to play games with ‘th...

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