Keri Dyck

“Tale Almost as Old as Time” by Keri Dyck

This is an old story, and the truth is, it isn’t really mine. It was written long before I walked this earth: the tale of two brothers. The first brothers. Their names were Cain and Abel. These two had a lot in common. They had the same parents, the same surroundings, the same stories before bed, the same food. There was no one else on earth to influence them. So how did they turn out so differently? How do two brothers, half of the world’s population, become the first victim and murderer? Free will. That’s it. God let them ch...

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“Top Ten Things To Do When Stuck At Home” by Keri Dyck

Submitted to Contest #74

My mom got tested positive with Covid, so me, my oldest brother, and my dad can’t go to work. The whole family is stuck at home, and I tell you, we’re having a blast. When I seen this prompt, I knew it was a great way to get myself writing on here again. So this won’t be a dramatic fictional story, but I hope you like it! No, these aren’t in order. There are a few that aren’t my favourite, but now’s the time to get them done; and if I put them first, you wouldn’t keep reading, but if I put them last, you’d loose interest. So I’ll scatter t...

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“Engraved in a Gold Ring” by Keri Dyck

Submitted to Contest #64

All right, so our main character’s name is Marcy. It’s short for Marcella, but not a whole lot of people know that. It’s kind of a special thing that only her parents call her when they are talking really seriously about something. Her parent’s names are John and Helen. John is a pastor, and at the time I start this story, he just left for some kind of conference. I’m not sure if he’s speaking or attending, all I know is that he meets someone there. But I’m not going to tell you about that yet. Helen runs a small business from...

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“Tomorrow at the Coffee Shop” by Keri Dyck

Submitted to Contest #63

Jack closed the door behind him and took off his dripping fedora. He removed his outer coat as well, hung both on a nearby peg, then glanced around the interior of what was supposed to be cozy little shop. He wasn’t quite sure, between the water drops on the outside of his glasses and the fog on the inside. He wiped them on his shirt and replaced them. Everything looked just as he had expected: two employees behind the counter, three patrons behind their laptops, and expensive drinks stencilled on the chalkboard. He seated himself on a ...

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“Smells of my Past” by Keri Dyck

Submitted to Contest #61

It’s incredible the way one breath of wind can bring back the colours of my history. All those things that I thought were stored deep in the vaults of my mind can come flooding back so easily.  Currently, I work at a grocery store. I’ve got to wear a mask because, you know, Covid, but my sense of smell isn’t hindered by it as much I thought it would be. And there are so many things there to smell! Okay, that sounds weird, but hear me out. I don’t go around sniffing loudly; scents just kind of come and are gone, and I try not to be too...

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“An Apocalypse ” by Keri Dyck

Submitted to Contest #60

A girl sat in the cellar, arms wrapped around her knees, shivering despite the two sweaters she wore. It was hard to tell her age by the look on her face, so haggard it had become. A boy sat beside her. He fiddled with the lamp in his hands, then switched it off. “Get some sleep, Tara.”She mechanically felt for where he was and lay down on the cement floor, feeling his body heat as he lay down next to her. “You need it too, Kyle.”A mirthless chuckle sounded in the dark. She didn’t answer it. They awoke sweating, panting, crying, cl...

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“Lights Out, part 2” by Keri Dyck

The hopelessness threatened to engulf her. She felt like John Bunyan’s Christian, beaten to a pulp by the giant Despair and left alone in a slimy dungeon. She didn’t know how the story ended. Christian got out, somehow. Of course he did. It was just a story. But Liz was in no dungeon. The sun shone warm on the back of her neck. The tears eventually ran out, and the dry heaves stopped a while afterward. She felt weak. The bar of the empty bicycle rack bore into her back. Her stomach growled. She checked her pockets. Two loonies, sev...

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“Lights Out, part 1” by Keri Dyck

After all, what was life? According to Shakespeare, it was a tale told by an idiot. Liz sighed as she leaned back in her squeaky office chair. Sometimes, she felt like agreeing with old Will. She had tried so hard, and what had it amounted to? The succulents on her desk looked up at her mournfully. She swivelled her chair and stood up, walked to the window, and heaved the sash open. There was about an inch of water in the halved bottle she had left on the sill last night. Liz poured a few drops went into the gravel of each pot, careful ...

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“Back to No Frills” by Keri Dyck

Submitted to Contest #56

I entered the grocery store, my bag on one arm, and headed up to Karen’s office. I felt conspicuous with my new black shoes and yoga pants— the way they contrasted with my non-logo black shirt— but I still felt good. My office job had let me go because of Covid, then Karen had hired me back without even a resume. The thought of belonging somewhere was— well, not empowering— but— well, sturdy-ing.  I jogged up the steps. Karen opened the door and greeted me. I smiled beneath my mask, we chatted, and I updated her information. She gave ...

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“Familial Deceptions” by Keri Dyck

Submitted to Contest #55

Marie watched out of the corner of her eye as Lord Foxham sauntered through the streets, his entourage following him dutifully. He looked remarkably interested in the fresh bread that a baker was putting out on the racks of his stall. He turned in her direction, and they locked eyes. She knew exactly where he was headed.  He stopped three paces away from her. “At it again, I see.” She curtsied, bowing her head, but her eyes flicked back up to his. “Please, my lord, I do not know of what you speak.” He did not smile. “So says every...

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“Pleading for Forgiveness” by Keri Dyck

Submitted to Contest #54

  Most Kind and Gracious Sir:   This letter is being anonymously written on behalf of a friend. You probably know of whom the writer speaks, therefore they shall not mention his name. Beware though, prior to reading this, that he merely gave the writer a few points to make and did not specify how to make them. Perhaps you are one of those sophisticated souls who prefer ancient language, and in that case, you shall enjoy this letter immensely; if not, the writer denies any further association with the person in question.  &nbsp...

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“The Girl on the Moon ” by Keri Dyck

Submitted to Contest #52

Shania stapled the receipt to the invoice, slid out the creaky drawer, and dropped it into the M division. The phone rang— not the business phone, but hers. She picked it up from the desk. Unknown number. “Hello, you’ve reached Diane’s Accounti—“ she laughed, catching herself. “I’m sorry, this is Shane speaking.”  The voice on the other end didn’t laugh. “Good afternoon, Shania. This call is to notify that you have been selected to join the World Space Immigration. You have one week to prepare. More details to follow.” “Wait, what? ...

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“A Strange Surprise” by Keri Dyck

Submitted to Contest #52

She wipes her muddy hands on her capris. The brown streaks match the patches on her knees. The old jeans, baggy and held up only by a thick cowboy belt her dad got her a while ago, have long been dedicated only to garden work. She tilts her head back in the sunshine, enjoying the smell of wet dirt and growing tomato plants and blooming lilies just across the garden fence. She picks up her bucket of weeds, squelches her barefoot way across the garden, and empties her bucket in the chicken pen. They all come running, a whole flock of Mrs. Benn...

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“The Sledding Hill” by Keri Dyck

Submitted to Contest #51

I am eight years old.  I’m nineteen.  “Come on, get ready. We’re leaving.” “I have all my stuff by the door, Mom. Mom, can you help me put my sleeves over my gloves? Mom, what time are we supposed to be there? Are we leaving now, Mom? Is Baby Savana coming?” “Oh that’s right! Do you need help with anything?” She smiles at me, hoisting her bag filled with styrofoam cups and thermoses of hot chocolate to her shoulder. “Let’s go.” I sit, all scrunched down in my seat. Mom helps me buckle up because my hands are rendered us...

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“The Stars Remind Me” by Keri Dyck

Submitted to Contest #51

Sometimes I forget about you, God. I know it’s crazy. How could I forget someone so amazing, so powerful… but you seem so invisible sometimes.  The stars are so vast. Or, rather, space is. I can’t see space, of course, but the stars in it are so far away. I am always amazed. When I take the time to look, they inspire me with awe and I have to acknowledge you. The winds rustle the leaves above and around me, all flapping together in summer gusts of happiness. It’s a sound I never realize my hunger for until I hear it, and when I do...

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