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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Feb, 2021
Submitted to Contest #103
Two Pair, Ace High a Charlemagne File short story by K.A. Bachus 2,458 words "I cannot believe you allowed that gypsy to take your money, Louis," said Misha. "You are usually more careful." He laughed at the thought of Louis parting with so much as a sous on such nonsense. "You should try it, Misha," said Vasily. "She told me intriguing things." Vasily would not say what these were, but then he rarely disclosed anything concerning himself. "I agree," said Louis. "She is an interesting old woman, flattering and insulting at the same ti...
Thirty-eight Hours a Charlemagne file short story by K.A. Bachus He stumbled over the slightly raised metal plate on the threshold between the garage and the laundry room. Perhaps, he gauged the distance incorrectly. Or maybe, his foot had refused to rise high enough to clear it. Understandable after a day that had lasted two days, almost an entire full-time workweek, but all in a row. Thirty-eight hours. He had counted them sitting on the long web seating along the side of the Air Force C-130 that had given him a lift home. The airpl...
Black Sheep a Charlemagne File short story by K.A. Bachus "It is only just past the border. I attended a gymnasium there, for a little while. My uncle…" Misha interrupted. "Vasily, you are under a death sentence because of what happened in Gdansk." The balding American who sat with them in a dark corner of a seedy restaurant spoke up. "What happened in Gdansk?" Vasily and his two friends responded with the malignant stare this question deserved. Vasily debated switching to Polish for privacy. Louis and Misha were fluent, but Frank...
Submitted to Contest #97
Picture Window by K.A. Bachus (© 2021) The first time I realized Sobieski wanted to kill me, I was leaning into a double-paned window twenty floors up from a New York street. I rested my forehead on the glass, my eyes on the stream of lights at the bottom of a skyscraper canyon and my psyche in the movement and freedom of people and cars in the darkness. It was the briefest respite from the newly heightened tension of an already stressful job. Sobieski destroyed the moment with a shove and an expletive, pulling the curtains closed wi...
Submitted to Contest #95
Counting Costs by K.A. Bachus The only belt-tightening I can unequivocally get behind is my own when a particularly satisfying dinner does the tightening. All other uses of the phrase are false flags designed to trap some poor schmuck in the hierarchy or to divert much needed funds into somebody else’s favorite promotion scheme du jour. 'Less is more' is a close cousin of the tighter belt and can be summed up as somebody with less understanding making a decision that causes more death, with at least some of the victims innocent and a...
Submitted to Contest #94
© 2021, K.A. Bachus 2,655 words Quenching Thirst by K.A. Bachus Los Angeles, 1971 "It is the worst thing we can do, Vasily. It exposes us. We must wait for our airplane." Misha did not hide the exasperation in his voice. "It does not make sense to sit here and wait for hours when we could use those hours to be at the airplane the moment it is repaired." Vasily’s voice was not accustomed to such long sentences. It became hoarse toward the end, but he forced himself to continue. "Staying here will make us into sitting ducks....
Submitted to Contest #92
© 2021, K.A. Bachus 2,774 words A Lighter Shade of Night by K.A. Bachus Vasily took his position in the deeper shadow formed by the corner of a building near the path. The struggle going on under the weak beam cast by a decorative pathway light bothered him. He gave a questioning shrug to Misha standing a few yards away. It was not the team’s policy to play knight in shining armor, but the last few days had been too much like that other time, that other American girl, the one that… Vasily tried to be as still as Misha but coul...
Submitted to Contest #83
Last Holiday by K.A. Bachus © 2021, K.A. Bachus The man picked strange places to meet. Viktor suspected these choices allowed his boss to claim the expenses of his travels to the more pleasant places in America, something not permitted to him. This ferry ride across Lake Champlain, from Vermont to the Adirondack Mountains, was no different. Novikov had reservations at a mountain resort. Viktor would take the next ferry back, find his car, and begin the long journey to a Japanese beach. “Is he still with us?” asked Novikov. They leaned on ...
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