Michael Mackenzie

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jun, 2020

Stories (20)

20 Stories

435 karma pts

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“Don't Do This To Me” by Michael Mackenzie

Submitted to Contest #264

Rhys stood beneath the bright chandelier in the threshold of his parent’s mansion, staring though the windows wondering how close he was to a liquor store when he caught a glimpse of two men standing on their driveway, peering into the house.               “Rhys,” Abigail said, tapping him on the shoulder, her thin fingers  pressing against his shoulders.              “This is bad Mom,”  R...

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“Nightime Melodies” by Michael Mackenzie

Submitted to Contest #252

The music was the sound of someone dying. That’s what I heard my first night in the new apartment. It was two in the morning and I lay next to a cum stained mattress left by the prior tenants, eleven empty bottles of Modelo that I hated myself for drinking because it worsened by headaches and no one in their early forty’s should drink that much, and a brown bag that held 3 debit cards equaling $300 minus the cost of the two six-packs.              Why that much? Becau...

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“New House” by Michael Mackenzie

Submitted to Contest #250

Samuel Stills closed the door to his daughter’s bedroom then walked toward the kitchen when his phone vibrated. He reached into his pocket. Give me some good news.             But his heart and sinew told him there would be no good news. He raised his phone to his ear. The cold plastic a reminder that nothing in this world is ever easy.             He’d spent the last hour at the foot of his daughters bed reading ...

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“Banished ” by Michael Mackenzie

Submitted to Contest #232

Russell Ramsey’s handcuff’s clashed against the splintered table when the judge entered the courtroom. The pain in his back was a sharp twisting dagger, and when the judge looked at him he gritted his teeth. Cold air seeped in through the cracked windows. “Have I inconvenienced you Mr. Ramsey?” “No Ma’am.” “Because this isn’t the first time you’ve found yourself in my courtroom is it?” “Second time.” “It’s the alcohol again isn’t it?” “I’m trying to stop.” “Yet you were seen last night stumbling home while your child was alone.” “I had...

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“Energy Drinks” by Michael Mackenzie

Submitted to Contest #223

Bobby peered into the fridge resting atop the small desk in his room when a scream echoed from across the hall. He knew not to question the scream because there would always be another one. That’s how it was in Quirk Hall. The screams that came from room 34 you learned to live with.              Since there were no more energy drinks in the fridge, he checked the closet, behind the bed, and under the desk. The anger and frustration and headaches worsened every second he couldn...

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“The Sewer” by Michael Mackenzie

Submitted to Contest #220

Matthew Hall walked down Locust street, dodging commuters walking toward the subway when the sky opened up and rain fell. He sprinted toward the overpass, slipping on the sidewalk, and when he found shelter his uniform was drenched and his hair soaked.              He removed his flask from his coat pocket and lifted his flask to his lips. Took a long sip, then another, and a third, and fourth until the frustration and stress of faking a smile and hauling luggage for entitled t...

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“Dog” by Michael Mackenzie

Submitted to Contest #214

Malcolm crawled over to the window and peered outside. It was past two o’clock in the morning and this was the fourth time in the last hour he couldn’t resist peaking to see if anyone or anything was outside in front of the house. The lights of the living room were off and the house was silent. Outside, the streetlamps flickered and the cold wind pounded the door.              He raised his head above the windowsill. He fingered his wedding ring, whispering to himself. Everythi...

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“"The Last Deed"” by Michael Mackenzie

Submitted to Contest #213

Blake leaned over his desk in the basement of his home, staring at the city planning blue prints and fingering a spool of wire when the sirens went off. The sound tore into his ear drums and echoed across the walls. The sound so loud and deafening it felt as though the earth were shaking. Is actually happening this time? Blake thought.              The city plans lay sprawled across the table. A collection of blue prints of office buildings and cul-de sac’s and parks and playg...

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“Rare Meat” by Michael Mackenzie

Submitted to Contest #208

***Language, Violence, and Gore*** When Nick arrived at table six sweat had dripped and dried on the back of his pressed white button-down shirt, and he was only one customer complaint away from getting fired. Chandeliers lit up the dining room. Voices of the other customers echoed behind him, the exhaustive conversations about New York City politics and the desire to help those less fortunate, spoken over steaks and wine and liquor that neither Nick nor any of his fellow servers could afford after weeks of working at this pretentious and po...

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“Sins of the Father” by Michael Mackenzie

Submitted to Contest #206

**Language and Violence**“Sins of the Father”When they crossed the state border, a wobbling street sign with decaying letters welcomed them to New Hampshire. Cracks lined the empty highway. The guardrails were bent or absent. The thought of driving off the road and tumbling down the mountain ate at Joseph. He gripped the steering wheel, disappointed in himself that he already missed the sounds of the subways cars and bright lights of the skyscrapers and the immediate urgency and chaos of the city. He cursed beneath his breath and rubbed the ...

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“Beneath The Ground They Live” by Michael Mackenzie

Submitted to Contest #175

Albert picked up the shovel laying on the grass, gripped the handle, and forced the tip of the blade into the ground.“Didn’t you hear what the realtor said?” “All I heard were ghost stories."“She said we can’t plant anything on the property. No trees. No flowers. Nothing. Didn’t you hear? I thought you were going to start listening more.”“Listening to you maybe. Not some realtor. Besides, I want to plant everywhere on the property. That’s why we bought a house with such open land. To plant.”He dug and looked at Fiona and then he dug som...

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“Shanhtih Station” by Michael Mackenzie

Submitted to Contest #168

 Douglas Jones walked off the train, flicked his scarf around his neck, and pretended not to notice the man across the platform staring at him. Mountains loomed over the station. The trees ached in the cold wind. The only light came from flickering lamp posts behind the benches on the platform. He sat on the bench. The clock hanging from the station read 12:06am. He cursed himself for missing his stop, but after another long night of balance sheets at the office, and for a man pushing seventy, falling asleep on the train had become a r...

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“A Theatre Alive” by Michael Mackenzie

Submitted to Contest #147

Charlotte placed her head on Ramsay’s shoulder, her foot brushing against his leg, the final seconds of a black and white forties movie she couldn’t name fading to black, and a feeling tearing into her that instead of sitting here in an abandoned theatre she should be back with her Mom in the hospital, in that wooden chair that pushed against her back, and the monitors whose beep gave her a week long headache. The credits rolled. She held Ramsay’s hand, trying to convince herself she’d earned a night out after a full year consumed with trips...

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“In The Father's House” by Michael Mackenzie

Submitted to Contest #131

A man with a city unto himself, walking at first, turning into a jog, beside the calm waters of the river, smiling as the pain kept him from his thoughts. Stopped for a moment. The cold removing the feeling in his fingers and the feeling in his chest and the thoughts in his mind. Footsteps following behind. Cars rumbled across. Lights of the city flickered. The city moving toward night and Adam clenching his hand and gripping nothing and gripping fleeting seconds. How different it felt to be alone now that he was gone. Gone. The brother who...

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“The Locked Door” by Michael Mackenzie

Submitted to Contest #130

 Amidst the City’s newest skyscrapers The 30th Street Hotel stood as an ode to the elegance of older generations, carrying within its walls and rooms and hallways the sins of its occupants.Darrell had never been inside the hotel, but one evening, a call came from the hotel's manager, requesting his services.   He stood in the lobby, basked in the jazz music radiating from the hotel’s atrium and admired the flickering lights of the chandelier. Lavender lifting from the front desk as excitable guest waited to check-in and o...

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Author bio

"I hope you live a life you’re proud of, and if you’re not, I hope you have the courage to start over again.” I believe everyone has something important to say. I write to entertain, to find meaning, and to slow time down and think about life.