John Steckley

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Aug, 2019

Stories (254)

254 Stories

5430 karma pts

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“Singing and being Irish in England” by John Steckley

Submitted to Contest #149

Singing and Being Irish in England Patrick O’Connor worked for a big English company, which should come as no surprise as he had moved to England less than two years ago for just that very purpose. But he had not allowed for the possibility that he would feel as isolated as he did now every day. The colleagues in his office were all as bloody English as they could be. And they took great joy in mocking his very Irishness, especially his accent. And some of his expressions. They would often ask him what he was “after...

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“The Writing on the Old Man's Wall” by John Steckley

Submitted to Contest #148

The Writing on the Old Man’s Wall Hello fellow physicists. My name is Harry and my associate’s name is Sue. We are here to present to you how we were able to make our unbelievable discovery. We will begin with a story, in order that we can give credit where credit is truly due. In the language of baseball, we are the closers, not the one who pitched the first eight innings. Our story begins two years ago. Neither one of us could believe that it was on the marker. Not only that, but it was at a price that, be...

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“The Night of the Blackout” by John Steckley

Submitted to Contest #147

The Night of the Blackout The lights in the movie theatre had just blacked out. The screen was not in view. I could not even see it from where I was sitting, despite being six rows up from the front. And there was an emptiness inside me as well, as I was sitting all by myself, or so I thought at the time.  This night’s theatre experience had not started in that way. I had walked in as part of what I believed to be a couple. But it had become a dark night for me in every sense of the word. Still, I did not feel like getti...

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“Are You Going to Be Long?” by John Steckley

Submitted to Contest #146

“Are you going to be long?’  “I think maybe so. I have a lot of work to do here. I can’t rush it” “Okay, I’ll go downstairs then.” This interchange has become something of a ritual between my wife and me. We’ve even performed it in our local bar, much to the laughing delight of some of the customers who know us well, and know about my strange writer’s sanctuary. The Ritual Begins            The ritual had something of a strange beginning (as if the continuance of i...

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“You Know How I Recognized You?” by John Steckley

Submitted to Contest #145

You Know How I Recognized You? I am a police officer who specializes in doing undercover work. In all modesty, I got the gig because I am good at being hard to recognize, being anonymous, non-distinctive. The clothes I wear in the drug-dealing, prostitution, mugging area of this fair city is instrumental in my blending in with the environment, and being hard to remember, like a crack in the sidewalk that I walk on when playing my role. I wear faded jeans, with slight rips in them, not the big ones that are now reborn as fashion...

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“The Nature of the Job” by John Steckley

Submitted to Contest #144

The Nature of the Job Jack’s Thoughts Jack was in his car, almost at his destination, and he was muttering to himself: ‘So I wanted to become this great nature photographer, but I end up, weekend after weekend, if I’m lucky, being a wedding photographer. At least the site of this wedding could be a beautiful one, a park between a forest and a lake. If I’m lucky, I might be able to see and photograph a deer or some other animal that has natural beauty, not the manufactured looks of the members of your typical wedding party.’ &nbs...

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“An Unusual Pair” by John Steckley

Submitted to Contest #143

An Unusual Pair They are an unusual pair. One flies high and with his acute vision can spot food that even some of those on the ground might not see. The other doesn’t rely so much on his eyes – nose first, ears second and eyes third. And yet, despite their differences, they get along just fine. The one provides food without trying to, which the other steals and always get away with it.            The wolf isn’t selfish enough to care about losing a little food.&nbsp...

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“Returning Home” by John Steckley

Submitted to Contest #142

Returning Home People will think I’m crazy if I tell them what I am about to do. That would even include my husband. He understands a lot about me, but not in matters such as this. One day – maybe soon, he will. The house we are thinking of buying is just what we want in so many ways.  It’s old enough to be classy, but not so old that it needs or will soon need repairs done. It’s in the countryside, near town, so we won’t feel crowded like in the apartment we live in now, but still be close to town to easily go to see m...

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“The Lowest Rated Restaurant in Town” by John Steckley

Submitted to Contest #141

It was Paul’s first Friday night in the new town to which he had just moved. The company that had hired him promised him a better job than the one he had worked at for ten years in the big city that was his hometown.  He felt that his life was going to change for the better. He was going out to dinner. Friday night dinners in restaurants had been established as a ritual for him over a very long time.  He felt that there was no reason why he shouldn’t continue the practice here. There was a restaurant, Diana’s Diner ...

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“The Church of the Past” by John Steckley

Submitted to Contest #140

The Church of the Past The year was 2016. My wife and I were taking a drive in the country with no particular destination in mind, open to anything that we might find and explore. But, as we would suspect sometime later, perhaps there was more to it than mere travellers' whim. Perhaps the word 'destination' contains the word 'destiny'.            We had driven down country roads for about half an hour when we saw something that caught our interest. The little church stood prou...

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“Dimitro's Diary” by John Steckley

Submitted to Contest #139

Dimitro’s Diary          December 1, 1905I 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 travelling to Canada for a new life. W...

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“All in a Dream” by John Steckley

Submitted to Contest #138

All in a Dream Dreams that Came True Harry wouldn’t describe himself as a superstitious person, or as being particularly quirky in nature. But there was this one thing. He believed that his dreams gave him hints and predictions about his future. Once, a dream told him when he was looking for a job, that he should buy the local paper that morning. Sure enough, when he did so he found under “jobs” the one he would apply for and ultimately get. His now deceased mother had been worried for a long time about his job prospec...

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“Giving It Up for Good” by John Steckley

Submitted to Contest #137

A Drive in the Country I am driving out into the countryside with my good friend ‘Stan the -Stang-, my mustang which I bought long years ago when I was 20. He was my first car. I hope that if I take care of it properly it will be my last. I almost wish that it could be buried with me. Maybe just the rearview mirror.  I remember so well the first drive out here on the country roads with Stan. I felt so much freedom. Now, years later, whenever anything disturbs me, I take a long drive with Stan. The farther...

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“A tip of the cap” by John Steckley

Submitted to Contest #136

A Tip of the Cap Frank was incredibly excited when he had been told that he was finally going to get his big chance in major league baseball. He was 29, so this might be the last time he would get such an opportunity to ‘make it’. The team’s regular right fielder had injured himself making a diving catch, and would be out of action for at least a week. Frank had to impress the owner, the coaches and the other players so that they might think of keeping him on the team. The First Game – Living the Dream The first game wen...

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“A Casual Act of Bravery” by John Steckley

Submitted to Contest #135

My Opinion of the Event It happened in a matter of seconds. I behaved as I think anyone else would. The reporter called it an act of bravery. I don’t think that was 100 percent true. And I definitely wish that the picture had not been taken at that particular time, with me ending up appearing on the front page of the local newspaper. I looked ridiculous, almost obscene. Still, she took me out to dinner. Walking Along the Beach It was my first time at this beach, and I looked like an idiot. My brown sh...

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Author bio

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