Mack Denver

“What Chance Do We Stand?” by Mack Denver

I would like to tell all of you a story. I tell stories. It is both a gift and a burden. I suppose that there have been multiple times in my life when I have told stories in order to understand this life just a little bit better. Two stories come to mind. The first one was at a wedding, and that’s where I’ll start. I was the best man to my friend, Andy Williams. I stood up and tapped my fork against my glass. “Good afternoon,” I said. I’ve always been one for simplicity. “I am honored to be up here in front of you all. If I haven’t introduce...

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“House of Needles” by Mack Denver

Submitted to Contest #216

In the spring of 1929, the house was more beautiful than it ever would be again. It was on a property perfect for the two children. They could run through it without ever worrying about a rock. Soft grass was all their feet would touch. There was enough room to have a small garden. Tomatoes and lettuce and strawberries and watermelons would make a great addition to the family’s meals. Unfortunately, the Colinsons cared not for growing fresh fruits and vegetables and herbs.  The purchase of the house was not an ordeal. Jeremiah Colinson...

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“Hunger Like No Other” by Mack Denver

“You can’t keep living like this,” Lincoln said to me, though I was barely listening. I was too tired to respond, so I just continued to stare at him. His face was blurred and cold, or maybe that was the weather starting to affect me. “You need to get a real job,” he continued. “Look at you! You’re freezing out here in the rain, you scrounge for paper and food, and you have no place to call home.”I continued to stare at him. Conserving my energy was important, for I had not eaten in days. Food that would not kill me was becoming harder ...

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“The Locked Door” by Mack Denver

A man’s heart is like a house, but what happens if the door is locked? What happens when the blinds are shut and the windows are sealed? What happens when no one is allowed in and the emotions are not allowed out? The residents forget to pay the bills. They forget to talk to their neighbors, leaving the neighborhood distanced by fences. The key is thrown away and people think the house is empty. The water is turned off and the lights go out. The residents sit in darkness.  Shawn sat in what felt like a lifetime of darkness as he sat alo...

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“Black Letter” by Mack Denver

Carlos Horacio opened his mailbox expecting nothing, but instead he was surprised by something. A black envelope was sitting in his mailbox. He took it out. On it was his name written in white ink. He took it and walked back to his house. His feet took him to his couch and his hands began to open the letter. Inside was a black letter with with the words written in white ink. It read: “Dear Carlos Horacio, I see you. I see what you do. I know you more than you know yourself. I know that you are expecting your wife to return home with your ...

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“The Darkness of His Gift” by Mack Denver

It was a fine day for family and food. Adam was just a young boy on a farm in Texas. He understood the importance of food, but did not yet understand the importance of family. This particular day of the year there was plenty of family in that little house. The smell of home cooked food filled the noses of all. The day known as Thanksgiving was upon the Verdejo family. Little Adam was proud of his striped, collared shirt and khakis. He had shined his shoes to be extra sparkly. He had combed his black hair and even put gel in it so that it wo...

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“The Me in the Mirror” by Mack Denver

Submitted to Contest #101

CW: Gore, murder And there I stood, looking at my reflection. As far as I could tell, the brown eyes staring back at me belonged to an entirely different man. Both of us were breathing heavily. I was shocked at what my hands had done, but the me in the mirror seemed calm. He had done this before. He knew what to do. Maybe I could avoid anymore conflict if I listened to him. As if hearing my thoughts, he grinned. It was the grin of an evil genius. He was a madman and I knew it, and I was sure he knew I knew it.  “Just say it,” he said to...

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“Outside My Window: Last Chance” by Mack Denver

Submitted to Contest #97

Steve Johnson was looking outside his window. There was no joy left inside of him anymore. It had only been seven hours since his son’s funeral. It was the middle of the night, and Steve did not like the dark, for he did not like not being able to see. The funeral had seemed so unreal, yet it had also seemed empty. Steve felt empty. He felt like everything had been taken from him. Nether his voice nor his brain seemed to want to work. He went into his room and sat down at his computer. He found an old game he used to play and started to down...

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“Outside My Window: The Second Part” by Mack Denver

The guest bedroom was empty. It always was. Very few people wanted to spend the night in a ‘haunted’ town. The only reason Steve wanted to was because the house prices were so cheap. As he stood in the empty guest bedroom of his house, he smoke a cigarette. He did not do this very often, for he knew it was a bad habit. He also did not want his son to grow up to become a smoker. So Steve only smoked when he was alone in the house. His wife had died a few months before he had moved into the house that he was smoking in. That was the reason as...

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“Outside My Window” by Mack Denver

Submitted to Contest #96

It was a bright, sunny day when he arrived in town. None of us believed anything bad could come of a new arrival. Our town was a small town with few visitors, so we should have wondered why there was suddenly someone who wanted to live in this town in the middle of nowhere. But it was a bright and sunny day, so only joy filled us residents when we learned of our new neighbor. He had blond hair, blue eyes, and a fit body. My sister could not keep her eyes off of him.One day, as I was walking out of school, I saw him. In our town, we are ...

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“Turn the Page” by Mack Denver

Submitted to Contest #91

Madam Monstré was scolding Mark and Steve for being too loud. They were always causing trouble around me. I never seemed to be able to have a moment of peace. I was just newly in the life of a teenage boy, but in no way have my feelings toward that library changed. I go there still today. Madam Monstré is still the librarian there. It seems she always has been, but no one thinks anything of it. After all, a person can grow dedicated to something that they have done for so long. “Now, I do not want to hear another sound from you boys again!” ...

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