Joseph Lombardi

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jan, 2020

Stories (10)

10 Stories

174 karma pts

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“Route None” by Joseph Lombardi

Submitted to Contest #60

Gerald Finch was waiting in bumper-to-bumper traffic on America’s latest 20-lane superhighway, Route None. The massive road stretched from upstate New York where it met Canada’s equivalent to southern Texas and a wide dirt path that continued from there southwards. There were no tolls nor speed limits on Route None-- after all, nobody wanted to be there, not when the sun came out.  He surveyed those stuck with him from the relative comfort of his vehicle. Gerald had to crane his head around the giant chromed blower sticking through h...

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“The Other” by Joseph Lombardi

Submitted to Contest #59

A gunshot reverberates from the next room over. Aside from an involuntary wince at the sharpness of the sound, the two scientists pore over their results once more. “It’s certain,” says the one, “the data can’t be interpreted another way.” He walks despondently into the adjacent room and soon after another shot rings out. The other, alone under the sickeningly bright fluorescent light, rejects his findings. Revolt wells up in him making every limb come alive with a humming, throbbing power. This is his burden.  Thick, salty sweat bead...

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“Under These Circumstances” by Joseph Lombardi

Submitted to Contest #56

Cora deftly weaved in and out of the morning traffic, throwing off her normally even-tempered defensive driving in favor of slicing seconds off her trip to the hospital where her boyfriend Jamie lay in an unknown condition. “Why did he have to do this on a Monday,” she thought, finding the congestion of the road frustrating, turning up the heat of her already boiling anger. Her hands clamped the steering wheel in a grip that could shatter granite, and the car rocked back and forth, up and down, to the hasty acceleration and deceleration of h...

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“Eternal Entrapment” by Joseph Lombardi

Submitted to Contest #51

How can one both yearn for something and dread it at the same time? It would be an unenviable thing; an article that someone wishes to draw near to, but yet shy away from in the same movement --like a rose bush drawing one close with its beauty, the delicate petals arrayed elegantly by some natural geometer, but hastening away with its nasty thorns that wrap and tangle the vines which support the whole. It would be much akin to time itself, that evanescent yet perennial movement which beckons one onwards, even though the destination is undes...

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“Summer Schemes and Boys in Trees” by Joseph Lombardi

Submitted to Contest #50

If you touched the plywood walls they’d be a sort of wet-hot that comes only after a thunderstorm in the middle of summer. Like the wood itself is thirsty it sucks up the water to cool off, but then when the sun comes around there’s no stopping the heat from coming and turning whatever’s inside that plywood into a swampy, sticky, humid, smelly mess. But it’s my treehouse and I’m gonna stick it out. Stick what out? Well I’ve been under siege for the past couple hours by all manner of foes. I don’t got it in me to be a coward, so I just g...

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“Wading Room” by Joseph Lombardi

Submitted to Contest #49

I close my eyes and out stretches before me a shallow, placid pool. I can look down and see through the surface of the water as if it were transparent. My feet touch the bottom of the pool while I continue to sit on my chair. Certainly it’s not deep here. I imagine myself getting up and moving towards the center of the room where I’d find myself inevitably wading deeper and deeper over gray, rocky outcrops.  A nibble on my leg draws my attention to a fantastic little creature circling around my salty pylons. Golden yellow with fins an...

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“LOUDER” by Joseph Lombardi

Submitted to Contest #45

Yes, Anarkiddy, the activists are our most powerful tool for justice! See that man, walking, without a care. And see the group approaching him? There’s a divide between the two; philosophically and somewhat physically. The lone man is disobeying our rule of sociality. If you go anywhere, you must be accompanied by Tovarishi. Even if it is but one, you are still in compliance! Why you ask? Because the single man’s thoughts are dangerous! You will learn this all in school. In the group society is safe. The larger a group we become, the safer w...

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“Return to Sender” by Joseph Lombardi

Submitted to Contest #44

The geometric figures dissolve before me. They melt and fall like sap on a hot day. Yellows and reds and blues flow down and away from my consciousness. A horrific rrrRRRRRIPPING sound bores a hole through my head and at once I open my eyes. Oh my god, the crash! I look over to see if Cora is okay. Shock rips through me because I don’t see her. My vision is blurry though, maybe I just need more light. I know I’ve got to move fast because the crash looked bad. The semi flipped itself over the median right in front of us. It was a kneejer...

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“Olin Hall” by Joseph Lombardi

Submitted to Contest #42

The problem with Olin hall is that it has the most, and I must emphasize most, comfy seats of the whole campus. In my undergrad I could barely help myself from falling asleep every time I went to a physics lecture. It wasn’t so much the dryness of the content that brought about my slumber, but the plush, tweed seat that I sunk into, and in its warm embrace could dream about the phenomena the professor was talking about. I dreamt about space and great orbiting bodies. I put myself in the position of the lecturer’s space-traveler, approaching ...

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“Foresight” by Joseph Lombardi

Submitted to Contest #25

Frigid winter air ripped through a valley where a small village abutted a long-frozen river, buried amidst a sea of would-be verdant conifers had they not been snowed over. The air carried with it thin, wispy trails of smoke sucked out of the chimneys of the huts and houses. The smoke tangling and swirling, becoming evanescent and then inextant, faded into the harsh gray clouds that hung ominously close to the tops of the hills forming the valley. It was the night of New Year Celebrations in a small town in Russia, 1942. In one of the huts t...

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Author bio

🐌🐳😤 Parable, metaphor, and scaling. More naive than I want to be