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Martin Ross

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Dec, 2021

Stories (116)

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319 Followers

310 Following

116 Stories

4664 karma pts

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Angela's Absence: A Tale of the Arts Department

Martin Ross

Submitted to Contest #303

“Holy f—,” I hissed. The old gal behind Rey’s beefy shoulder emanated Protestant outrage.Rey grinned. I stared at the pink iPhone wallet he’d plopped onto the faux-walnut tabletop.The blue-hair had been shooting rays at the burly Latino with the salt-and-pepper pompadour and matching goatee, battered ear stud, and old-school, all-caps Gothic ink wrists to cuffs. The country-fried Stop Inn had seemed an odd and potentially dicey choice for Rey.I salvaged my fork from the biscuit gravy, wiped it and my Iphone clean, and, using the spare napkin...

5 likes

Seeking Omar Nassim: A Tale of the Arts Department

Martin Ross

Submitted to Contest #298

CAUTION: Socially sensitive themes“What time is it?” Professor Urquardt muttered. The ICE guy failed to respond, sucked at his McCafe. His boss had recently vented to FOX about Taco Bell posting its five-star menu in “Mexican” instead of the (presumptive) King’s English, so she figured the Starbuck’s grid was beyond the agent’s pay grade/PSAT. The Campus Coffee Commune had a socialist/lesbian/global optic the fed likely didn’t want immortalized the second Melissa hollered “La Migra!” The one Spanish phrase most of these Gen-Plussers knew asi...

20 likes

Mallard of Forethought: A Tale of the Arts Department

Martin Ross

Submitted to Contest #296

“Ducks,” Professor Thomas Skillruud mulled.“Well, dead ducks,” Art Willows corrected gruffly. “Well, not real dead ducks. Decoys.”“Ah,” Tom nodded, willing clarity to no avail.Art hung on the lull for a moment. “Sooo, my grandpa, uh, passed on a month ago…”“I’m so sorry.”“Nahhhhh.” The Chicago fireman made it a nasal five syllables. “He died doing what he loved – fell out of a duck blind, and you can’t ask too much more than that, right?”“You certainly cannot.” Tom assented, puzzling why a sightless man might have been traipsing about wherev...

43 likes

Palo Santo

Martin Ross

Submitted to Contest #294

NOTE: This story deals with an ugly social bigotry, and thus some terms and phrases may be offensive to some readers.Probably the black pine tree that set her off.It wasn’t so much that she hadn’t asked for it, had basically told the Mexican at the auto “laundry” as nicely as possible to fuck himself with the add-ons.It wasn’t that the thing was so unpleasant or cloying. The mingled pine and lemon and mint virtually vaporized amid the Tropical Mango Eruption Body Bath and aerosolized Warm Vanilla Sugar that formed Nancy’s orbital essence.It ...

19 likes

No Destination No Journey

Martin Ross

Submitted to Contest #294

Jon Henry was a multimodal man.Two, to be precise.The e-scooters and communal bikes had vanished a few years back -- that is, kept vanishing until the city tired of scouring alleys and vacant lots and culverts and shrubs and decided to stick to bulkier if pale greener macro-mobility. But “bimodal” is one or six modes short of optimal commercial curb appeal, and thus Millington Multimodal Hub contented itself with shuffling commuters and students and shopper/tourists and senior charters and drafting new and exotic bus routes and building a fr...

36 likes

In The Key of Indigo, Part 2: A Tale of the Arts Department

Martin Ross

This is the conclusion to last week's entry for the prompt Write a story that has a colour in the title...., at https://blog.reedsy.com/creative-writing-prompts/author/martin-ross/**"You fantasizing about Koa bugs and Pulelehua butterflies?” Wei asked Will, seemingly mesmerized by the lush, uninterrupted forests of the haze-capped Koolauloa ridge.“And here I thought you were surfing porn after, you know, which seemed like odd timing but I was still basking, sooo…” Professor Kalish smirked. “Actually, I was thinking about the Hawaiian happy-f...

12 likes

In The Key of Indigo, Part 1: A Tale of the Arts Department

Martin Ross

This novella will conclude with next week's prompt, Start or end your story with someone looking out a car or train window.—He was the last of them, and, he knew, close to death. His weak, rough laughter echoed toward the mauga, the daunting peak shrouded in mists. It was a grim joke, but it momentarily revived his numbed and bloody limbs.Though this land was of another world, it was the world he’d come seeking. The mountains were the dwelling place of spirits and gods, and this was the home of those most supreme, most powerful. Tagaloa, cre...

9 likes

REM Job

Martin Ross

Submitted to Contest #291

Eli awoke with a start. The sensor attached to his left pectoral tugged painfully at gray scrub as he jerked back into the conscious realm.It was just a dream, Eli told Eli.“Good morning, Mr. Trainer! Please stay as still as possible until we can remove the leads.” The voice was somehow, simultaneously, cloying and utterly perfunctory, practiced and patient, and, as a result, Eli absurdly, simultaneously, somehow felt the desire to please and to bitch-slap the man in the observation booth.“Did you sleep well? Do you feel rested?”Eli worked h...

40 likes

The Change Room

Martin Ross

Submitted to Contest #289

“WHAT?”“I SAID, YOU WANT ME TO GO WITH YOU?? LOTTA SKEEVY DUDES HANG AROUND BACK THERE!”“I’M GOOD! THANKS!”“WHAT?”Madison waved it away and began the gauntlet toward the indeed skeevy and cannabis-and-piss-scented hallway to the rear of The Mill, ignoring the roman hands, the fondling and brushing and inebriated oopsy-doodles, the redcoating and scibzing, the Friday preddos and thirsty eddies packed beyond fire capacity into the bar. There was like a thesaurus the size of the presumably defunct Chicago White Pages just for the pervs, and Mad...

48 likes

Affective Defense

Martin Ross

Submitted to Contest #288

WOM-07 should never have emerged this early. The rest were dormant in the tunnels below, in the intricate labyrinth wrought to frustrate, to confound both those who’d pursued their flesh for eons etched into tribal memory and the New Ones that had intruded into this world as theirs had betrayed them and they sought fresh prey under heightened competitive pressure.WOM-07 had held tight to the stream line, where even during these harsh months, the waters offered up vegetative scrub, insects, the occasional snails he needed paradoxically to fue...

29 likes

A Spot of Tea: A Professor Deshpande Mystery

Martin Ross

Submitted to Contest #287

“A great idea should always be left to steep like loose tea leaves in a teapot for a while to make sure that the tea will be strong enough and the idea truly is a great one.” — Phoebe Stone“As long as my role begins and terminates in the kitchen, I am both honored and delighted,” Anand replied as he checked on the welfare of the gulab jamun. The macroeconomist nodded curtly to the saturated dumplings as he might a freshman who had successfully dissected Keynesian Theory. “Oh, and please confine your literary circle to the common areas.”“It’s...

41 likes

BOB

Martin Ross

Submitted to Contest #286

The Camp is an ideal place for secrets but no place for privacy or security. I stow it somewhere safe I can remember. That makes things both simpler and more complex.But they were coming, and I had no other options. The Nine had taken all that away.This world has never welcomed my kind, but although its purpose is to protect the Dwellers from us, the Camps offer us a refuge from their contempt and cruelty.I ask the one the Dwellers call “Cyclops” after some historical figure or mythical being. This is their way of putting us into a context t...

26 likes

The Carpenter Piece: A Tale of the Arts Department

Martin Ross

Submitted to Contest #286

“The ‘beast’ secession, offspring of the ‘dragon' Slavery, drawing in his train a third part of our national stars, was pierced with the deadly wound which could not be healed. It was the combat between Michael and Satan of Apocalyptic vision, re-enacted before the eyes of the nineteenth century…”Francis Bicknell CarpenterProfessor Thomas Skillruud was vaguely aware of the concept of Yelp, and, like so many conventions of the Information Age, he regarded it with the same disdain as Twitting and TickTock dancing. He could not and, if pressed,...

38 likes

The Bedevilment of Danny Webster: A Tale of the Arts Department

Martin Ross

Submitted to Contest #284

NOTE: Mature subject matter“I should have known better.”Melissa was sorry she’d brought the whole thing up.“Yeah, probably,” Professor Urquardt uttered. She should have let Zinna Garver slide until Monday. What should have been a simple “What the fuck is the matter with you, and how can we fix it quick?” pep talk had turned into a Sarah Jessica Parker therapy session, and Melissa blamed the Big V. Valentine’s Day, and, she guessed, the other one, too.“So, you’re done with him, right?” Melissa nonetheless persisted when Garver failed to slink...

25 likes

The Serpent We Know: A Holiday Tale of the Arts Department

Martin Ross

Submitted to Contest #284

“Could I get mansions covering ten thousand miles, I’d house all the poor scholars…”Du Fu “By the way, we’ve got New Year’s plans,” Wei Zhao announced as she pulled into the long drive in the campus fringe of Mulberry. Wei heard the entomologist sink into the upholstery.“I thought we were doing a peaceful evening of Huluween horror, Sichuan Palace and Papa John’s, and bringing 2025 in with a bang or maybe three,” Will sulked.“Now, that’s a Hallmark movie I’d watch,” the University’s youngest tenured prof mulled, waiting out the ailing garage...

19 likes