Matt Strempel

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Sep, 2019

Stories (21)

21 Stories

536 karma pts

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“What is life, then, but a waiting game?” by Matt Strempel

No sooner had Miss Hartigan turned to write the lesson on the chalkboard, than the boy dashed through the open door. He hid in the ragged hawthorn bush—prickles and all—panting, waiting, listening. The teacher continued the lesson and he knew he was free.He‘d never been in town during school hours but he’d imagined it as a veritable showground of adult activity: men and women leaning on railings, drinking and laughing, enjoying the freedom that having their kids in school afforded them. So, when he rounded the bend of the track tha...

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“The Conscience Assignment” by Matt Strempel

Jeremy sat in the vast white room lined with benches sat upon by a multitude of people with no recollection of how he came to be there. As he observed his surroundings and the individuals within it, he was uncertain of whether or not he was dreaming or perhaps at a casting call for national stereotypes.While phosphorus-bright lighting illuminated crisp white walls, white geometric furniture, and white flowers in glass vases, those seated within the room were of every conceivable colour and creed. A woman of Indian-appearance, wrapp...

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“We Are Exercising an Abundance of Caution” by Matt Strempel

Phone in hand, you walk through the peak-hour pedestrian throng, reading the confession you spent the morning typing and retyping. You’ve stopped yourself sending it three times so far–once at the last second for using the wrong ‘past’, and the other two times because you’re petrified of the repercussions. Dams breaking, avalanches, an atomic bomb whistling as it plummets to earth—these are the scenes playing before your addled brain.You have no appetite but have ingested three strong coffees. The effect is one of agitation built o...

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“The P-Word” by Matt Strempel

Though it wounded him to have his work considered unoriginal in any way, Martin tried to take the comparisons to another writer as a compliment. That was at the start of his book tour. By the middle of it, venues were cancelling appearances and the tour was cut short in disgrace.‘Derivative,’ the first online magazine review said.‘Derivative is being kind!’ a man commented to a swarm of ‘likes’. ‘I believe the word you’re looking for is plagiarism.’ The P-word. It churned the writer’s s...

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“Barnyarn” by Matt Strempel

The crowd erupts with whistles and gasps as the live band punches out a feverish, stabbing brass sting. The host strides to the centre of the stage, waving as the crowd claps to the beat.While the band continues, the unseen voiceover man announces, ‘Live from London to the world, it’s Barnyarn! The show where we can walk with the animals, talk to the animals, grunt and squeak and squawk with the animals. And here’s your host, Bob ‘Doolittle’ Daniels!’‘Thank you, everyone. Thank you,’ says Doolittle Daniels, his voic...

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“And the Roots Grow Deeper Still” by Matt Strempel

She is barely two feet tall but has already witnessed the destruction of her entire family. If the farmer had noticed her, she would have been torn down just like the rest of the forest. She survived the winter massacre and now stands alone, exposed, in the dank, still earth. Waiting for something. But what she can not tell. All she knows is that the hushed song of her kind as they swayed to the music of the wind is gone.Remnants of her ancestors can be seen here and there; mangled limbs of once-mighty aunts, uncles, gr...

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“A Bud Light at the End of the Tunnel” by Matt Strempel

The letter—crisp white paper with officious black text, apart from the jarring red ‘PENALTY’ on the top right corner of the page—sat in stark contrast to Chuck’s weathered, wrinkled hands.“Staring at it isn’t going to help,” said Chuck’s wife, Rosemary.Chuck humphed. Typical of cantankerous old men, Chuck Habberfield humphed a lot. Even more since the nation-wide lockdown. Now he barely uttered a word as the weeks in isolation dragged on.Before, his weekly routine had been a repetitive, yet satisfying sche...

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“Botched” by Matt Strempel

My wife and I turned 60 last year. We agreed to take a holiday, somewhere warm and sunny for a change, and that we'd treat ourselves to an extravagance hitherto unheard of in our lives: we were going to have plastic surgery.Maggie had been going on about her 'flatbreads' as she called them ever since she'd finished breastfeeding. No matter how much I told her she was beautiful—and she truly is a beautiful woman—she was obsessed with her...

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“The Last Haircut” by Matt Strempel

I took my seat in the red leather barber’s chair and waited for the cape to be draped around my throat.For two hours I’d been standing in line with every man in the city, or so it had seemed. All of us in varying states of scruffiness, respectfully standing, chatting about what was coming while we waited for our turn at Carlos’s Cuts. Now, finally reclined in the chair, the feeling of weightlessness in my feet was euphoric. ...

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“El Gato” by Matt Strempel

Three kills tonight. Three vermin neutralised. Three fewer mouths raiding our stores. It was a successful hunt by anyone’s standard but, as always, I will receive no credit for my work.I am El Burro—the donkey—because I didn’t know how to say mule in Spanish. Even though I am in Indonesia's most infamous prison, most of us are learning Spanish because of Ramos ‘Reymos’ Hernández. Reymos is a fellow inmate but he is king. ‘Rey’.That’s Spanish for king.I am El Burro, the donkey. Th...

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“The Stain” by Matt Strempel

The stain is a black smudge on my white pillowcase. Depending on my mood, it reminds me of a horse or a pineapple or the Green Dragon character on a mahjong tile. It’s an inkblot test I take every Wednesday night at Tumbles Laundromat on Park Street. The stain is one year, three months and fifteen days old.There...

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“Tainted Chocolate” by Matt Strempel

“I’m calling the police,” Harry’s mum said on the afternoon he’d accepted chocolate from Homeless Jeff. Even for Harry’s mother, it seemed overzealous. Harry had never even heard of mums calling the police on their kids. What was the big deal about a couple of pieces of chocolate? It’s not like he’d stolen

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“Say Uncle” by Matt Strempel

In my mid-twenties, I dated a girl who nearly cost me my life. She came from a Filipino family that included her mum and two uncles that had stepped in when her dad left when she was little. They were fiercely protective of their niece and harboured an open resentment toward the local boys of their adopted suburb who lusted after the cute Asian girl at the Main Street café. Charlie could be confident, aggressive, impulsive, defiant, and...

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“The Small Murder” by Matt Strempel

“My client wishes to enter a plea of not guilty, Your Honor,” said Brian Henry, the court-appointed attorney for Gavin Small. The lawyer unbuttoned his ill-fitting suit and sat down beside his client.“Are you sure?” replied Judge Milton.Unperturbed, Henry stood, buttoned his jacket, and said, “We are, Your Honour.” H...

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“New Year’s Restitutions ” by Matt Strempel

She’s late but Christina remains in the Uber. Salim wishes her a happy New Year while he taps away on the phone for his next job. Christina asks if she can just stay a minute longer to hear the end of the song even though it’s the new Ed Sheeran song she can’t stand. She just needs another minute to compose herself. “I’ll give you five stars and the maximum tip if you let me sit here til this song finishes,” she says. Salim squints in frustration but, perhaps sensing her unease, replies, “No problem.” Christina can se...

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Author bio

My debut novel, War of the Sparrows, is now available at all major online retailers, or for local purchase in Australia at my website, mattstrempel.com

Shortlisted 4 stories ⭐️

Contest #39
And the Roots Grow Deeper Still – read story
Contest #25
New Year’s Restitutions – read story
Contest #24
Little Red Balloons – read story
Contest #11
Sent to a Farm. – read story