Ken Coomes

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jun, 2020

Stories (44)

44 Stories

1080 karma pts

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“Rescue” by Ken Coomes

Submitted to Contest #82

“That’s so lame.” “What do you mean? I double-checked the math, the science, and I’ve tested it twice.” “The math is fine, Woody. And double testing isn’t the problem.” “The science? Are you telling me there’s something wrong with the science, Andy?” “Not wrong, exactly. Just lame.” “Oh, really? Without this kind of robotic arm, you wouldn’t be able to pick things up, or hand them to me, or do many of the things you can do. All because of your articulated arm.” “Of course I can, Woody. So can you.” “But my arm isn’t mechanical.” “Tec...

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“Late Arrival” by Ken Coomes

Submitted to Contest #79

Robert paced back and forth, scowling at the tiled floor in the train station. Martha sat on the bench defining one side of Robert’s path, trying to concentrate on her knitting. Sam sat beside his mother, looking at his watch every two minutes. Robert stopped in front of his wife and lifted his flinty-eyed gaze from the tiled floor to the large clock over the ticket counter. It showed the time as 11:01 p.m. Part of the reason the station was so empty. “Where’s the damned train?” he growled, looking from the clock to his wife. “They’re supp...

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“Secrets” by Ken Coomes

Submitted to Contest #77

The office was noisier than usual, employees’ heads popping up from their cubicles like so many groundhogs. Some were already donning coats and hats, heading for the exit. Gary stood up to stretch and watch the curious flurry of activity just after lunch. A furious flurry of white outside the office windows formed a peaceful backdrop to the hullabaloo inside.  Suddenly the boss’s office door swung open. Their boss, Ronald Pardy, started striding quickly towards the exit, pulling on his camel hair overcoat as he walked. Gary noticed he...

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“Coffee Shop” by Ken Coomes

Submitted to Contest #76

“One venti caramel macchiato for Carol.” The barista called out as he sat A paper cup on the counter. A tall, stately woman stepped up to get her coffee, red ringlets framing her photogenic face, swinging to and fro with her stride. “Thank you.” Her contralto voice caressed the barista’s ear as she reached for her macchiato. A tall gentleman in a cashmere sport coat reached for the same cup. Their fingers touched, sending a tingle up his arm and a faint rosy color to her cheeks.  “Sorry,” he apologized. “I thought that was mine.” He m...

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“Cottage in the Woods” by Ken Coomes

Submitted to Contest #73

Large, fluffy flakes danced over seven falls and draped the forest in white. The world, blanketed in white, held its collective breath, anticipating something special on this Christmas Eve. But white wasn’t the only color to be seen in the gleaming twilight. An arched opening of deepest black, untouched by the snow, stretched up from the base of the seventh hill. Dusky light reflected off the falling snow failed to penetrate the shadowy adit. A narrow, rust-colored path, magically untouched by the snow, snaked from the bottom of the dark o...

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“Unpredictable” by Ken Coomes

Submitted to Contest #72

A yellow and black Mustang, colored like Bumblebee from the Transformers, made a radical, obtuse-angle turn, in order to catch the exit ramp. It sped down the ramp, as a pair of police cruisers sped past, unable to make the turn in time to exit. The Mustang followed a series of alternating left and right turns, evading what appeared to be a non-existent pursuit. Then it raced down Olive, a residential street. Tires squealed and smoke billowed as Ryan cornered aggressively into his driveway. He had already pressed the remote to open the garag...

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“Grandpa's Famous Cheese Pie” by Ken Coomes

Submitted to Contest #71

“Christmas won’t be the same this year.” Alyssa hung another ornament on the family Christmas tree and sighed. “It won’t be the same for anyone, dearest daughter,” Julia admitted, as she placed another snow globe on the mantel. “That doesn’t make it any better.” David frowned and shook his head, continuing to lay track for the Christmas Special, the electric train the Anderson family ran around their tree every year. “I agree with you, sis. It just won’t be the same.” “Hey, now. Remember Thanksgiving? We all gave thanks for our health, ou...

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“Broken” by Ken Coomes

Submitted to Contest #70

“I want you out of my house, and I want you out now.” “Think about the kids, honey.” “You think about the kids. You should have thought about them before you dropped your trousers for some bimbo.” “She’s not a bimbo. She’s an astronaut.” “An astronaut in training. Just like you. Someone planning to leave her family and go gallivanting off into space.” “OK, in training. Willing to sacrifice for mankind. I thought you were on board with the idea of me going into space on a commercial rocket. Now you’re calling it gallivanting off int...

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“The Best Match” by Ken Coomes

Submitted to Contest #67

Jackson leaned in for a kiss. Miranda turned her head, brunette curls swinging, allowing a peck on the cheek, and whispered in Jackson’s ear. “What are you doing? This isn’t a real date. Remember?” Jackson moved his lips to her ear, pretending to give her a little nibble, and whispered back. “We need to make it look real. There are cameras everywhere.” The cameras loved them. His short, straight blond hair gave contrasted well with her shoulder-length, curling brunette. Her soft, caramel skin offset the alabaster hue of his. A dark pink s...

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“The Greatest Treasure” by Ken Coomes

Submitted to Contest #67

“Lay in a course for Tortuga, Harmon.” “I’m sorry, Captain, but I can’t do that.” Captain Wren whipped his sword out of the scabbard and laid the edge against First Mate Harmon. “Why the hell not, Harmon? Is this a mutiny? Are you defying me, your Captain? And it’s Captain John Wren, not plain old Captain. How many times must I tell you that?” First Mate Bill Harmon gulped slowly and speak carefully, so the motion of his Adam’s apple wouldn’t press against the keen edge of his Captain’s blade. “I don’t know how to do that, Captain John W...

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“Best Halloween Ever” by Ken Coomes

Submitted to Contest #65

A cold wind blew down Cherrywood Lane, chasing stubborn leaves off nearly bare branches, whispering spooky sounds this Halloween night. The neighborhood was dark, almost as if the wind had extinguished all the lights. Even the street lights were out, except for a lone lamp, standing sentinel at the entrance to Derry Court. That single street light threw a faint blue fluorescent halo into the angry wind, trying to beat back the shadows. Until suddenly a jagged bolt of blue stabbed at the wind as the streetlight blew out. Dead leaves swirled ...

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“Wrapped in Flames” by Ken Coomes

Submitted to Contest #64

Larry was surrounded by flames. Air burned his lungs when he tried to breathe. A heavy wooden beam lay across his legs, pinning him to the floor. He managed to lift the beam just enough to pull his legs out, but all he could see around him was fire and smoke. He couldn’t tell where the windows were, or the door. He wasn’t sure if Gwen was trapped with him, or if she had escaped. He woke sweating and panting, sitting up in the hospital bed. A nurse came and increased the IV drip, sending additional morphine into his system to relieve the pa...

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“Domino House” by Ken Coomes

Submitted to Contest #64

Jason pulled up in front of the ugliest building Ronald had ever seen. The distressed brick facade stretched away to the left and right, far enough to dwarf the limousine Jason parked in front of the massive bronze double doors, covered with verdigris. The only things lending the ominous structure some semblance of life and character were the crenelated walls and ivy climbing from the manicured lawn halfway to the small square windows. Closely spaced iron vertical bars on each window countered the ivy and the castle-like appearance though, b...

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“Autumn” by Ken Coomes

Submitted to Contest #63

I picked up the blunt black crayon and started drawing shapes on the yellow construction paper. “Remember when you showed me how to do this, dad? I was four years old, and you told me I could make anything I wanted to make.” We were sitting in the common room of Home Life, an assisted living facility. It wasn’t home, and it wasn’t filled with family. But Home Life was a lovely place, only three miles from our home. “All I could make that day was unrecognizable geometric shapes. And you told me they were beautiful, imaginative shapes all m...

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“Houston,, We Have a Problem” by Ken Coomes

Submitted to Contest #60

“Houston, we have a problem.” Grace stared at the monitor as Ricardo tried to communicate with NASA. “Houston?” Anyone?” “How does he do that?” Grace wondered. “How does he keep calm in the face of disaster?” Her voice rose half an octave and cracked a little when she gave him an update. “Houston has a bigger problem, Ricardo.” Three or four mushroom clouds blended together where Houston used to be as they passed over in the ISS. There were more ominous clouds sprouting up all over the hemisphere, just as there had been in on the other s...

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Author bio

What can I say? I read, I write, I love life. Last year I hosted what I hope will be an annual writer's workshop in the Pacific Northwest. I interview writers and those in the industry on my TV show The Write Stuff. I pulled my 1st 3 novels to write them better.