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Michael Ginsberg

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Dec, 2023

Stories (6)

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Library

6 Followers

1 Following

6 Stories

160 karma pts

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Lie With Me

Michael Ginsberg

Submitted to Contest #252

LIE WITH MEMichael Ginsberg2024 I met Susan in October 1976, at a dinner hosted by mutual friends who thought we might make a good couple. During appetizers, I was interested. By dessert, I was sure. At the end of the evening, I invited Susan for dinner, and she accepted. A few days later, we were standing side by side in my kitchen, chatting and chopping vegetables for a stir fry. Halfway through the zucchini, Susan asked if we could hear some music. “‘Do you have “The Four Seasons?” she asked, as I headed for my albums. I pulled out “F...

16 likes

Sammy Freeberg: His Mother Loves Him

Michael Ginsberg

Submitted to Contest #246

Warning: This story contains some inappropriate humor, but it should not offend, in contect. "Ms. Lefkowitz, you know about the Jew who married a Catholic?" "No, Sam. What about the Jew who married a Catholic, and what does it have to do with our Torah lesson?”"They both go to Confession, but they bring a lawyer." Ms. Lefkowitz didn't laugh. No one in my religious school class laughed. Rabbi Stein didn't laugh, but I could tell he wanted to. "Sam, Sam Freeberg,” Rabbi said, sitting behind his desk and shaking his head. "Three times this...

27 likes

"Jonah and the Whale" is a Fishy Story

Michael Ginsberg

Submitted to Contest #243

JONAH AND THE WHALE IS A FISHY STORY Call me Orca.I’ve got a whale of a tale to tell, and I spout no lies.You think you know the story of Jonah and the whale, right? A big, ugly whale swallows Jonah, right? Jonah spends days in the whale’s belly, before God releases him and the whale exits, (as the audience loudly boos) stage right, to wild applause, right?You’ve seen drawings of an evil, ugly or just plain dumb whale, covered in tattoos, including “Mammal Without a Cause,” “I 8 Jonah,” “Blow Hardy,” and "Born to Swim."Forget all that. You ...

8 likes

Lie With Me

Michael Ginsberg

Submitted to Contest #237

I met Susan in 1973 at a dinner hosted by Dan and Rachel, mutual friends who thought we might make a good couple. By the end of the evening, I agreed, and a few days later, I invited Susan for dinner at my apartment. Standing side by side, we chatted while chopping vegetables for a stir fry. When the conversation lagged, I asked Susan if she’d like to hear some music. “How about ‘The Four Seasons,’” she said. I pulled out “Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons’ Greatest Hits.” When the drum solo announced “Big Girls Don’t Cry,” Susan laug...

17 likes

Ikey

Michael Ginsberg

Submitted to Contest #235

IKEY “Ikey died.” I stood at the breakfast table, looking down at my parents and my sister, Susan. Their blank expressions left me wondering if they even knew who I was. “Ikey Leibowitz?” my father finally asked, and I nodded. “Ms. Lewis just called from the nursing home,” I said. “They think his heart quit during the night.” Susan leaned back in her chair and yawned. “I didn’t think he had a heart,” she said. Susan is 13 – two years younger than me and 5 years dumber. I glared at her; then I shot my parents a “do something” look. They...

18 likes

Sarah's Star

Michael Ginsberg

Submitted to Contest #227

SARAH’S STAR Michael Ginsberg, 2023 My daughter, Sarah, 16, walked into our living room, holding up a star-shaped cloth: yellow, faded and ragged. Is this what I think it is, Dad?” “Depends on what you think it is,” I said, smiling. “Looks like the badges that Jews were forced to wear during World War 2,” Sarah said. “I found it while I was looking through Great Grandma Sarah’s things. I just wish I knew more about her.” I wasn’t surprised that my sensitive, inquisitive daughter wondered about her sensitive, inquisitive great grand...

9 likes

Author bio

I can't stop writing or teaching writing. It started in elementary school, when I decided I wanted to be a newspaper reporter. It continued in high school, where I was sports editor of the yearbook and had my first bad experience with an editor, when I wrote a review of our football team, which had a lousy season. When the yearbook came out, I discovered that the faculty advisor added a statement that the student body was responsible, for not supporting the team. His final addition was the crusher: "Ask not what your team can do for you; ask what you can do for the team."
I survived, wrote for my college paper, then taught for three years. I enrolled in a journalism course at night and remembered, in the middle of a class, that I had always wanted to be a newspaper reporter. So I became one, I loved it, but 10 years was enough, so I spent the next 30 years teaching writing at a community college. I loved that, too. Since retirment, I've been writing fiction and love that. However, at 75, I still don;t know what I want to be if I grow up.