Michael Jefferson

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Feb, 2022

Stories (40)

40 Stories

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“By the Colour of Your Dreams” by Michael Jefferson

Lyric Bass blows the steam off her mochaccino. “Are you still looking for the right song for your advertising campaign?” Brice Bass closes the lid of his laptop. Taking off his glasses, he rubs his tired eyes. “Yeah, nothing seems to fit.” “What about Derry Dalrymple’s ‘By the Colour of Your Dreams?’ Great song. Great album. It’s very sentimental and sad yet uplifting at the same time. I ...

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“Achtung, Baby” by Michael Jefferson

One sentence, “Will you marry me?” might have made me a happy, responsible man. Unfortunately, at the time I should have said it, I was hardly responsible and more horndog than man. I got swept up in the false image of being a player who walked into bars with three or four stunning nannies on his arm. I wanted all of them, but I really only needed one - Ilka. Now, thirty years later, I’m alone, unable to remember the so...

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“The Bedford Cross” by Michael Jefferson

Vince Stafford’s eyes welled up with tears as he looked at the photos, wilted flowers, trinkets, and waterlogged sympathy cards gathered around The Bedford Cross. The twenty-five-foot cross had been erected in 1956 on a large traffic island that separated South Bedford Road and Route 119. The Cross memorialized the dozens of lives lost or ruined there. Vince cried because he knew too many of them. Driver...

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“Let Me Be Your Dog” by Michael Jefferson

The stocky, fortyish Black man walked toward the elderly couple. Regina Beckwith smiled neighborly at him. Checking her watch, she let out a hearty laugh. “Ten-thirty on the nose,” she said. Barton, her husband of fifty years, grinned placidly. “Yep. Right on schedule. I swear I can set my watch by you.” Starling Coyle took great pleasure and pride in compartmentalizing every asp...

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“Shadow on My Wall” by Michael Jefferson

The floor in the living room creaks, catching Aaron’s attention.            Aaron turns to face the shadow on the wall behind him, saying, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know I was followed.”            Aaron sinks into a crouch in a darkened corner of the bedroom. He reaches in his jacket for the gun he left on the dining room table. His favorite softball bat will have to do.            The muffled...

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“Kyrie Kicks Back” by Michael Jefferson

“Did you bring my medication? It’s time for my pills.” “Yes, mother,” Marshall Destry answers wearily. “…As if you even know what you’re taking…” “What? Speak up. You mumble all the time these days.” Lifting her head from her cushioned seat, Rosamond Destry looks out of the window. The scenery blends into a blur as the train speeds along, its whistle blaring loudly. “Where are we?...

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“We’ll Meet Again” by Michael Jefferson

“You bushwhackin’ sidewinder!” Tristan Calendar shouts. He quickly surveys the grubby saloon, realizing he’s surrounded by half a dozen of Cody Dillinger’s men. “This is between you and me, not your hired shooters,” Tristan says to his foe. “Let’s settle this like gentlemen.” Dillinger reaches for his pistol. “No one’s ever accused me of bein’ one.” Tristan draws first, pointing ...

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“Hoping For a Blessing” by Michael Jefferson

The silver armor of the approaching order of knights gleams with menace as they advance toward King Quentin Kaloric’s castle. Four knights detach themselves from the order, their metal shoes clanking loudly as they cross the drawbridge. Still standing at attention outside of the castle, their battle flags flying, the figures of the other hundred knights appear to fade into the moonlit night. Des...

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“Your Mouth is Cashin’ Checks Your Gun Hand Can’t Deliver” by Michael Jefferson

White Oaks, New Mexico 1887 Clancy Cooper spits a long stream of tobacco juice into a nearby spittoon, cocking his eye at a dark-skinned man at the end of the bar. The man in the black suit and wide-brimmed hat glares back at the scruffy farmer with greasy, shoulder-length hair. Clancy runs his finger across his bushy mustache, nodding knowingly at the man. “I tell you, T...

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“The Cement Mixer” by Michael Jefferson

There were thirty-foot oak trees in my hometown of Mount Kisco, manicured lawns, parks that spanned for miles, and the air smelled fresh and sweet. Where I was going to work in the Bronx, the scrawny trees were two feet high and were marginally protected by sharpened barbed wire fences. There weren’t any lawns, the parks had more broken glass than grass, and the air smelled of dog crap and urine. As Sen...

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“First Volk” by Michael Jefferson

“It’s inoperable, Adam.” Adam Volk fights to digest the news, pushing his thick glasses up off the end of his nose. “I can make you comfortable, but that’s about it,” Dr. Karl Ambros says, his furrowed brow registering his concern. The fifty-seven-year-old doctor has been treating his close friend for the past two years. During that time, he’s watched fifty-two-year-old Adam disintegrate from a r...

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“Angel Maker” by Michael Jefferson

King Richard Rainsbury licks his lips as he scans the menu. “I think I’ll start with the oysters on the half shell with tequila mignonette.” His son, Prince Quentin Rainsbury, a younger version of his father with thick, chestnut brown hair, large, inquisitive black eyes, and a devilish grin, replies, “You always get that. I’ll have the escargot en brioche .” “I like oysters. Why change?” ...

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“Come and Get Your Love” by Michael Jefferson

Arvin Wurlie watches with idle curiosity as the man brooding at the end of the bar downs his third scotch in as many minutes. Arvin knows he’s a fellow warrior because Grumman’s Tavern only attracts servicemen. Grabbing his beer, the sturdy sixty-six-year-old navy veteran decides he has to know what destroyed the man. “You’re really accomplished at being a sponge, friend. Don’t you ever ease up?” ...

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“Butterscotch” by Michael Jefferson

Mayor Ross Reddick squints behind his thick oval glasses as he reads aloud. “…We the people of the town of Exeter, Nebraska do willfully enter into this contract with Jinks Mandel…” “That’s Professor Jenkins Mandel.” “…On June 24, 1926. Professor Mandel guarantees four inches of rain within seven days for the price of ten thousand dollars.” Professor Mandel takes the pen in his hand, taking time ...

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“No Chips Without Sparkle” by Michael Jefferson

Maurice “Mossy” Graves belches loudly, sitting back in his chair. The couple at the next table glances at Mossy disparagingly, then look away when they realize who he is. Tall, with hard, vulpine features, snow white hair, and unblinking ice blue eyes, Mossy intimidate others through appearance, as well as his financial clout. With a pockmarked, porky face and slits for eyes, big-bellied hen...

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