Keith Menendez

“The Malevolence” by Keith Menendez

Submitted to Contest #274

“The horses are ready. We can leave anytime.” Todd Rebus said to his bride as he entered a rustic cabin. The hinges creaked as he closed the door.  He dusted off his hands and walked toward the kitchen sink and washed them. “The lake is serene.  It was amazing: A lone red hawk dove upon the surface.  It snatched a bass and flew off.”  He dried his hands on a towel and turned around. “That fish was having a bad day.  The rippling waves moved throughout the entire body of…” A smiling Seravina Rebus stood before he...

5 likes 0 comments 0

Read story

“Operation: Snowball” by Keith Menendez

Submitted to Contest #269

“Agent Bass, come in. Bass, can you hear me?” Special Agent Hinkle barked at me.“Loud and clear, boss. I can also smell your tuna sub.” I reply with bitterness. This is the third wild goose chase in three weeks. Stakeouts, no sleep, smelly hotels, fast food, and stuck in a 2008 Caprice Classic with Agent Tuna, is pushing me to the limit. This operation is a joke.“Keep the comments for the comedy club, Bass. Eyes on the prize.” Hinkle said“Yes, ma’am.” I attempt a respectful answer as I walk through Clevelan...

9 likes 0 comments 0

Read story

“Splish, Splash, Crash” by Keith Menendez

Submitted to Contest #268

Splish, splash. Splish, splash, crash. Splish, splash. Splish, splash, crash….The continuous rhythm and roar of the ocean waves, the tropical light burning through the morning clouds, and the seagulls’ lonely cry, awakened Sandy Harris lying on a desolate beach. Her fingers grasped the wet sand, her feet and legs soaked up the waves, and her eyes opened to the burning sun. She shielded them with her left hand and sat up with her right. The dry sand cascaded from her arms and fingers.“Where am I? Is this the Caribbean?”Sandy scanned...

5 likes 2 comments 2

Read story

“Dagger Brothers” by Keith Menendez

Submitted to Contest #267

Smack!  I slapped a nasty horsefly against my leg just before I stepped into the quagmire of horrific odor.  I stumbled forward and caught myself before I fell head first into the smelly bog.  I paused and breathed through my nose.  I reached down and picked up a piece of alligator hide. Woof had spotted it and asked me to retrieve it. I turned around and sloshed back to the massive Siberian husky. I tossed it in front of Woof.“We have been stomping around in circles for two hours.  Can we take a brea...

3 likes 0 comments 0

Read story

“Something Blue” by Keith Menendez

Submitted to Contest #264

Seravina Rebus posed before an ornate long mirror in the master bedroom on the villa’s first floor. The ivory Bohemian dress flowed perfectly around her athletic build. The Tasanaris had graciously allowed her to use the room to get ready. A distant church bell chimed twelve times. The ceremony would finally begin in thirty minutes. Seravina smiled as the reflection revealed two members of her new family.  Mrs. Hemingway, the groom’s adopted mother, fiddled with the final touches of Vina’s dress, while Emmy, Too...

9 likes 2 comments 2

Read story

“No Moon over Miami” by Keith Menendez

Submitted to Contest #260

Dean Troutman, native New Yorker, struggled to walk down a palatial residential sidewalk as the inviting Miami sunshine burned through the tall palm trees. Under the blue sky and fluffy clouds, he wiped his brow and viewed the address on his phone.The immaculate lawns, towering homes, and friendly waves from unknown neighbors, made him feel uncomfortable. He preferred Manhattan: no one made eye contact and he could hide in the shadows of the skyscrapers. He was on a mission. He had to speak to the Master about the issues in New York, and ...

5 likes 0 comments 0

Read story

“Up to Scratch ” by Keith Menendez

Submitted to Contest #257

Before you enter the drama department at Daniel Webster Middle, just above the door, there is a beautifully engraved wooden sign from England.  Ms. Hargreaves’ (drama teacher) prize possession reads: “All the World’s a stage, and All the men and women merely players.”  I opted out of the drama elective this year, but that quote from Willy Shakes, I read every Tuesday and Thursday morning for two years.  When I asked Ms. Hargreaves about the meaning, she smiled, and then forced us wee-fifth graders to memorize the entire speech...

6 likes 0 comments 0

Read story

“Scratch Your Back” by Keith Menendez

Submitted to Contest #256

I have heard people say that crying is therapeutic.  Good for your soul.  It releases endorphins or hormones to help your body cope with stress and emotions.  Part of the grieving process. Those people are morons.  For a seventh grade young man, like me, to cry in an eighth grade class even for an instant was not therapeutic.  It was not good for my soul.  The only thing it released was loud snickering by the eighth grade boys and, worse, sympathetic eyes from the eighth grade girls.  Part of the humiliatio...

7 likes 2 comments 2

Read story

“Bumps in the Mornin'” by Keith Menendez

Submitted to Contest #249

The cool dew saturated the entire forest as the morning fog evaporated and crept away.Ginny Mack patrolled the north woods of the Tasanari’s villa right before the spring sunrise streamed over the horizon. Her trusty rifle rested on her left shoulder and her favorite Stetson secured light brown hair. It had been two nights and three days since the newlyweds departed. Seravina and Todd , her uncle, decided to enjoy time alone on the estate, with no interference from the outside world. Vuthbert had traveled, as security, with Mario and Emmy, ...

13 likes 2 comments 2

Read story

“Not a Scratch” by Keith Menendez

A polar chill ran down my seventh grade spine as Mr. Cliff, the principal of Daniel Webster Middle School, marched past me. His rank mummified breath saturated my face and infiltrated my defenseless schnoz.I once imagined evil embodied the smell of raw onions.I was dead wrong.You see my science teacher, Mr. Rattlehammer, has wicked onion breath. He eats onions like apples, especially red onions, (which are purple) and actual onion sandwiches. This year on the first day of school, he assigned not one, but two projects, due by the end of the w...

6 likes 0 comments 0

Read story

“The Fountain in the Woods” by Keith Menendez

Submitted to Contest #239

Three weary hikers traveled an overgrown dirt path until the birch trees fell away to an open field.  A doe and fawn jumped away due to the noisy disturbance.  In the midst of the clearing, stood an ancient stone fountain covered in dew, branches and moss.  The still blackish water in the circular basin reeked of bacteria and algae.  Early spring daffodils and tulips surrounded the structure, but thorns and thistles imprisoned them.  Tall ragweed towers overshadowed three mushroom shaped benches, each equidistant fro...

9 likes 2 comments 2

Read story

“Scratch that Itch” by Keith Menendez

Submitted to Contest #237

What is a kiss?  I’m not looking for a life changing answer.  I’m curious, sincerely.  It’s not like I haven’t received pecks from my family.  Mom gives me good kisses (That sounds weird).  I should be more specific.   At Daniel Webster Middle School, what is a kiss?  Putting lips on lips or lips on cheeks or other body parts. Very unsanitary.  Gross.  But at my school, if this happens between a non-family member; a girl or a boy, then it’s like the moon landing (if you believe it; I have so...

9 likes 4 comments 4

Read story

“White As Snow” by Keith Menendez

Submitted to Contest #230

Mario marched to his room and stood in the doorway. Sandy followed. The ladies tiptoed down the hallway to eavesdrop. He said, “Sandy, how many closets are in this room? Now, look at the placement of the closets. Where are they?”  Sandy looked intently at the wall. “Three. One is at a forty-five degree angle on the left. The next two are parallel to each other on a flat wall.” Mario pointed. “On the right side, the wall again changes to another forty-five degree angle.” “I’m getting a headache.” Sandra complained and caressed ...

10 likes 0 comments 0

Read story

“Cupcakes by O' Scratch” by Keith Menendez

Submitted to Contest #228

“Hey! Thanks for making it.  Don’t you look dapper.”  A gorgeous brunette in a red trench coat called to a balding man in a wrinkled business suit.  He sat on a park bench about to read a newspaper.  He turned around looking for whom this beauty could be speaking to in the crowded food court.  She looked like a model straight out of Victoria Secrets.  He pointed to himself.  “Yes, I’m talking to you. Cliff, right? Don’t you remember me? It's me, Demona.” Cliff cleared his throat and secretly removed his ...

7 likes 1 comment 1

Read story

“Scratch Cupcakes” by Keith Menendez

Submitted to Contest #226

Middle school sucks! My mom told me not to use that crude word unless it was for emphasis.  It sucks hard.  I don’t know if I know what that means exactly, but things went from bad to apocalyptic since Black Friday at my school.  But you are asking, “Kids aren’t in school on Black Friday, Josh” and you would be correct. That is one reason why my story is beyond bizarre.  Hi! I’m Joshua Carpenter.  I attend Daniel Webster Middle School, in Brunswick, Connecticut, seventh grade.  Go Paladins!  I am a dece...

26 likes 12 comments 12

Read story