Ken Coomes

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jun, 2020

Stories (44)

44 Stories

1080 karma pts

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“Seer I” by Ken Coomes

Submitted to Contest #57

Julie placed motion detectors in the library and connected them to her grandfather’s computer. Then she took a pair of VR goggles and a piece of Latex out of her briefcase.“This is a prototype of the VRAI Seer I, grandpa.” “That piece looks like a shower cap.” “It is, but a shower cap with modifications. We wanted it to be easy and comfortable to wear. Sit down in your armchair and I’ll put it on for you. I thought you should be the first person not in ArkTech’s R&D to try it out.” “Because I own the company?” “And because you’re...

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“I Will” by Ken Coomes

Submitted to Contest #57

“I, Reginald Aloysius Witherset the Fourth, being of sound mind and body, blah, blah, blah. You know all the legal mumbo-jumbo.” Reginald gave Norman, his attorney, an impatient stare. “Yes, Reginald, I do. Unless you want something in the preamble of your Last Will & Testament to change, it will match the last eleven wills I have drawn up for you. Do you want to skip ahead to the part where you tell me who gets what?” “Fine. I have nothing to change in the main preamble. Just the assignment of inheritance.” Norman flipped to the a...

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“I Hope You Dance” by Ken Coomes

Submitted to Contest #56

“Welcome to another episode of Love is Blind. I’m Kevin Bloom, your host, and moderator. And I’m still not related to Orlando.” Kevin waited a few seconds while the live studio audience chuckled. “Tonight I’ll be talking with Blake and Miranda about their blind date last night. And in the second half of the show, we’ll bring Beatrice and Janice back after their second date, and find out how that went. But now, please welcome Blake Litton and Miranda Shambo.” Kevin led the audience in applause, as Blake and Miranda walked onto the set, hold...

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“Dirty Little Secret” by Ken Coomes

Submitted to Contest #55

“Can you keep a secret?” Margot asked. “You can call me the soul of discretion.” “OK, I’ll call you the soul of discretion, Robbie. But can you really keep a secret?” “Do you even know what discretion means, Margot?” “Of course I know what it means, but I’m not sure you do.” “OK, I’ll humor you. How can I be the soul of discretion and not keep a secret?” “Discretion means the power or right to decide or act according to one’s own judgment. So if I told you my secret, and you decided it was important for someone else to know it, y...

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“BOSS” by Ken Coomes

Submitted to Contest #55

“A poker party? A three-day poker party?” “Yep. Three days. Just me, the guys, cigars, cards, and beer.” “Eww. It sounds disgusting. Try not to lose too much, Barry.” “Relax, Teresa. It’s only penny-ante stuff. I go mostly to hang with my boys.” “You could use the time off, Barry. You work entirely too hard. Enjoy yourself. And don’t lose too many pennies.” “What will you do while I’m gone, sweetheart?” “Oh, I’ll probably have my girls over. Watch sit-coms, play Bunco, drink wine.” “You try not to lose too much playing Bunco. I...

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“Magic?” by Ken Coomes

Submitted to Contest #54

“Abracadabra. Tada!” It felt amazing to pull off the magic trick he had been practicing for days. The flower was now successfully up George’s right sleeve, allegedly having disappeared. He smiled at his audience - his children, Damon and Karla. Damon was Karla’s older brother at 11 years old, but Karla responded first. She giggled.  “I saw you, daddy. You put the rose up your sleeve.” George tried to salvage the trick. He pushed up his left sleeve. “What do you mean, you saw me? Do you see a rose here?” Karla giggled some more. ...

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“The Game” by Ken Coomes

Submitted to Contest #54

“You’re gonna love it, mom, I’m sure of it.” “I’m glad you’re sure, Mark. I’m having my doubts right now.” Martha had a death grip on Mark’s arm, her head on a swivel as she looked around at the throng of people. “It’s what dad would want, mom. It’s the right thing to do.” “I know, son, I know. And thank you for inviting me, instead of one of your friends.” “Of course, mom.” Mark gave his mother’s white-knuckled hand a pat. “Dad loved his Portland Trail Blazers, and we made great use of these season tickets.” The crowds seemed just...

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“Supermarket Surprise” by Ken Coomes

Submitted to Contest #52

I was almost used to the empty stores. When I took my chances and went grocery shopping, that is. I used to go shopping every day almost, or at least it seemed that way. The supermarket was only a couple of blocks from home. Going often meant fresher vegetables, no frozen food, no worries about not getting enough of something to last. Since the COVID-19 pandemic, I was only going every other week. The supermarket was still just as close. But it wasn’t worth the risk to go more often than that. And it wasn’t worth the hassle. The whole ch...

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“Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum” by Ken Coomes

Submitted to Contest #52

“Come with us,” two burly men in grey suits said, grabbing me by the arm and handcuffing me. “You know what you did.” But I have no idea. “You’ve got the wrong guy. I didn’t do anything.” “That’s what they all say.” The one that looks like Duane Johnson, holding my right arm, nods. “Yeah. That’s what they all say.” The one that looks like Vin Diesel, holding my left arm, agrees, also nodding. “Humor me. Pretend I lost my memory or something. What is it you think I did?” “Good one.” The Rock smiles. “You don’t remember what you did,...

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“Rocky Road” by Ken Coomes

Submitted to Contest #52

You know how you have a dream, and sometimes it feels so real you’re not really sure if you’re dreaming? And then you wake up, and you’re not sure you’re awake? Well, that’s how I felt. Maybe I was dreaming, but it sure seemed real to me. Maybe I was awake, but nothing was quite right. Especially Frank. I thought Frank was dead, but there he stood, right in front of me on this street I didn’t recognize, smiling at me. “Frank? Is that really you, or am I dreaming? I thought you were dead.” As soon as I said that I felt like an idiot. What...

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“Stowaway” by Ken Coomes

Submitted to Contest #52

We stood there, all 500 of us, waiting for the big announcement. I looked around at my fellow high school graduates. At first, all I saw were eager faces. Young women and men, ready to face whatever the world had to offer. Then I noticed others like me; nervous, unsure, perhaps hoping against hope that ours would not be the name chosen. “Congratulations, class of 2133!” The Dean stood beside a large glass bowl. A bowl that could have held about three or four dozen beautiful goldfish. But it didn’t. It was three-quarters full of pieces of p...

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“Best Man” by Ken Coomes

Submitted to Contest #52

I glanced at my watch. Twenty minutes to go. “Shouldn’t we get in place?” “Sure thing. Let’s go.” Owen took my empty champagne flute and put both his and mine on a side table. We stepped out of the anteroom and into the Twilight Zone. At least that’s what it felt like. There stood my mother and Sam, kissing.  And I’m talking Kissing with a capital K. This was not a pre-wedding kiss on the cheek for good luck. No, this was the kind of kiss Sam and I gave each other. The kind I thought we would be sharing dozens of on our honeymoon....

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“Past, Tense (Lucy, part II)” by Ken Coomes

Submitted to Contest #51

  More than anything else I think about my past. As I ponder what will happen when I get out, that balance may shift. But for years I’ve thought about the past. The past, the past, the past. Always the past. Sure beats thinking about my present.   You know, some people tell us to leave the past where it is - behind us. We can’t go back and change anything about it. And that might be a very good thing. When you think about changing the past, especially if you’re thinking about ending yourself because of that past, just think about t...

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“Home Again (Lucy, part IV)” by Ken Coomes

Submitted to Contest #51

Clickety, clackety. The rhythmic sounds of the train wheels echoed in my soul, lulling me to sleep on the nearly empty train. The monotonous “whoosh,” pause, “whoosh,” pause, “whoosh” of one tree after another passing by my coach window, reminiscent of the bars on a prison window somehow, didn’t help. As I drifted off to sleep, leaving the clickety, whoosh, clackety, whoosh behind, my mind drifted to one of the many books I read while I was in prison. “Thomas Wolfe was wrong,” a little voice whispered in my ear. “You can go home again. An...

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“Thoughts (Lucy, part I)” by Ken Coomes

Submitted to Contest #51

I have a lot of time on my hands. When I have more time than I know what to do with, I tend to think. About a lot of things. I think about my parents. I suspect most people do, especially when their parents are gone. And all four of mine were gone.  Sometimes I think about having four parents. Not everyone has four parents, of course. Those that do probably think about them, maybe four times as much as other people think about theirs. I don’t know. Sometimes I think about mathematics, probability, statistics, like that. I just th...

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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.