Lyle Closs

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Mar, 2021

Stories (19)

19 Stories

372 karma pts

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“Sisters” by Lyle Closs

Submitted to Contest #203

Sisters I will not shoot an unarmed woman. She’s not unarmed, she’s holding a nail-gun. It’s not a real gun though. What part of ‘nail-gun’ makes you think that’s not a gun? … A strange, strangled scream from the bedroom. The door burst open. Good morning my love, coffee? Fuck off! What…? I said fuck off! No coffee, no fucking cornflakes. He blinked. She slammed the front door behind her. … A nail-gun can’t hurt anyone at this distance. It’s a powder-actuated model. What? It’s powder-actuated. As in gunpowder? As in gunpowd...

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“The letter ” by Lyle Closs

Submitted to Contest #201

Other people’s garbage. That’s what I deal with every day. They come into the Job Center and offload their personal share of the pitiful detritus of a creaking society into my brain-pan and leave feeling a little bit better. I, on the other hand, feel worse. There isn’t a single uplifting thing that floats past my eyes and ears in any working day. I get abused at least once a day, but the security guy Hamid is huge, so problems usually disappear quickly. Stamp, arrange, re-arrange, stamp. Next! A few nights a week I help clean the Roundh...

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“Onward” by Lyle Closs

Submitted to Contest #193

I sold the building business to my brother for five big ones. He’ll make that back in a few weeks. It was worth so much more, but that’s all the cash he had. I swapped motors with him. He kept the truck. I took his ‘66 Beetle. Slept on his sofa. Slept? Not much. I had packed a few changes of clothes and a few things I wanted to keep. My plastic miniature of the Thinker. The framed copy of the Constitution. Asimov’s I Robot which I still haven’t read. Ten vinyl records. One day I’ll get a record player. Tent and sleeping bag. Clim...

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“Elodie” by Lyle Closs

Submitted to Contest #86

“Oh look, the first daffodils are out,” I said. The old lady sat near me on a bench in the Tuileries gardens in Paris. Drab, tired clothes on a small, huddled frame; a hat and coat from a long-past era. Her head lifted and her lips drew to a half-smile that as quickly faded. Her head turned to me and I realised she was blind. “Oh you can’t see them!” “No my dear but I like to know that the daffodils are out again.” “Yes, it’s lovely to see them after a long, cold winter.” “Ah,” she sighed. “Winters come and then they go. They always go....

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Author bio

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Shortlisted 1 story ⭐️

Contest #210

Aliens on my desk – read story