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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Nov, 2024
Submitted to Contest #287
At Reservoir Park, I pulled the truck to the right so I had an ice-free place to get out. There they were, tire tracks going out into the snow. The small parking lot was just big enough for four or five cars. “Bastards are at it again,” I muttered. In the night, they had raced around in the snow, tearing up the park.”Little shits.”The park was absolutely empty. Whenever the Hispanic guys play soccer, the parking area was full, and cars parked along the street. Suzy, our border collie, wouldn’t get out when they were playing soccer, and since...
Submitted to Contest #283
For all the worry, our cobbled together family started well. Every weekend, my sons and I went out to Cindy's house, with its creek, hillside of brambles, a massive hemlock tree, and across the county road, woods, and a maze of abandoned Christmas trees smothered in honeysuckle. The boys, Peter, 13, Ian, 12, and Brendan, 9, built forts in the woods, dammed up the creek, and chased our dog, Marley, through the house. Steven, Cindy's son 5, wanted to be in their mayhem, but they weren't sure about Steven. He cried a lot. Cindy's cat, Cody, hid...
Submitted to Contest #282
I was in shock at the dramatic change in our tenuous relationship. "This is fun, Brother. I haven't been here in years. Stan and I used to come here. He lived in England, you know.” Stan was Neva’s ex-husband.The afternoon was cool. We were sitting on the patio of Penny Lane Pub. Katie, my dog, was at my feet. I spread out twenty black and white photographs on the table, the fragments of our childhood, unfinished business, maybe always unfinished. My sister stared at them, then reached tentatively to one, rotating it a bit. "I recognize Punk...
"Excuse me, repeat that. What is it you want?""My name is Julian Hickman. I am from Virginia, and my son, Peter, who lives in Tacoma, Washington, said there are things stored here at the bank by my cousin, probably papers. I don't know. This is a little odd. I have no other information. My son picked up boxes of papers, documents, and books a few years ago. My cousin was Bill Gabriel. He was born in Virginia but lived here, outside Missoula. He worked as a timber cruiser, then as an environmentalist, a forestry professor at the University of...
Submitted to Contest #279
We were standing there at the open garage bay, studying her car. Cars and trucks were whizzing past on the interstate behind us, just on the other side of the service road. The mechanic wiped his greasy hands on a handkerchief as he glanced at the car's tags. "Your transmission won't make it back to Virginia." He shoved the hood down. The car shuddered. "I can work on it first thing Monday. You'll be on your way home Tuesday." "We're headed to Montreal," I said.If it had been my car and a different trip, I would have made some joke, sold the...
Submitted to Contest #277
We were on a coach lurching back and forth, maybe twenty strangers, driving in and out of towns, threading between hedgerows, suddenly surprised by stone walls close enough to reach out and touch. God, that would have been a bloody mess if you really did, if you ignored the obvious, but it's the obvious that can lead people astray. We were riding the airport shuttle from Edinburgh to the Glasgow International Airport. A nice looking couple sat across from me. She was on the aisle like me and a man I assumed to be her husband at the window. H...
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