Michael Palmieri

Author on Reedsy Prompts since May, 2024

Stories (23)

23 Stories

378 karma pts

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“The Pay Phone on Fifth” by Michael Palmieri

Submitted to Contest #285

It was late at night, and he walked down the sidewalk, trying to clear his mind after the day he’d had. The silence of the empty streets pressed in on him, amplifying the loneliness he felt. He wished he had someone to talk to, but his friends were all busy, and he lived alone. As if the universe had heard his thoughts, a pay phone on the corner started ringing. The sound was so unexpected that he stopped in his tracks. He looked around, but the street was deserted—no one waiting for a call. He was about to ignore it and keep walking, but t...

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“The Gift That Scared Me” by Michael Palmieri

Submitted to Contest #284

They say people change every day. It’s such a gradual shift that you don’t notice it happening, but if you were to look back a decade, you’d barely recognize the person you once were. I know I wouldn’t. In fact, I’m not even the same person I was two years ago. Two years ago, I was married. I never questioned anything, never wondered if the life I was living was really mine or just a script someone else handed me. I thought I was happy—or at least, I convinced myself I was. Back then, I worked as an accountant for a small company where no...

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“Christmas in Ruins” by Michael Palmieri

Submitted to Contest #283

On December 25, Franco Danowitz woke up to the news that didn’t quite feel real. The announcement crackled through his beat-up radio, clear despite the static: the war was over. A treaty had been signed late last night, putting an end to a war that had gone on far too long. Franco sat up slowly, still clutching the rifle he’d slept with. He wasn’t in a bed, of course—just a corner of what used to be a hotel, half its walls blown apart by artillery. The other half was rubble, offering little protection from the cold but just enough cover to h...

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“Wolves In Silk” by Michael Palmieri

Submitted to Contest #277

*Includes sexual violence and substance abuse* I used to think being one of Bo Peep’s girls meant something. Safety, respect, maybe even a little glamour. But once you’re hers, you’re not a person anymore—you’re a sheep. Dumb, obedient, waiting to be led somewhere you can’t come back from. I never wanted to kill someone, but life happens. I figured it was either him or me. Now, it’s neither. Bo’s sent her dogs, and here I am in the back seat of some PI’s beat-up sedan, pretending I’ve still got a choice. “You’re quiet,” he said, glancing at...

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“Basement Dweller” by Michael Palmieri

Submitted to Contest #274

Basement Dweller I found a house—what a glorious steal,No hesitation, I sealed the deal.A picket fence, so white, so bright,With shutters that gleamed in the pale moonlight. The papers were signed, the keys now mine,I claimed the prize I'd longed to find.Day by day, I toiled and strained,To make it gleam like gems unchained. Four beds, two baths, an attic so high,Where shadows whisper and breezes sigh.A living room where echoes play,A dining hall in dim disarray. The kitchen stood in silence deep,As if holding secrets long asleep.A garage an...

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“Excepts from a Cul-de-sac” by Michael Palmieri

Submitted to Contest #273

The cul-de-sac is full again. Someone just bought the Smiths’ old residence. Time to start a new chapter in my collection. April 7 The Powells—Kevin and Amanda, a young newlywed couple—moved into 1815 today. Kevin works at an investment firm in the city, and that’s what brought them here. Amanda runs a small online craft business from home. They have the kind of bright optimism that’s almost naive. I wonder how long it will take for the reality of this place to wear them down. April 8 The Fields, the older retired couple next door at 1805,...

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“From Cursed to Cuddled” by Michael Palmieri

Submitted to Contest #272

Dear Court of the Supernatural, Being a werewolf sucks! Well, at least it does for me. Sure, there are a few obvious perks of being a human who can shapeshift into a K-9. For instance: I can lick myself (yes, in that way). I’m stronger when I shift. My sense of smell is off the charts—I can find most things I’ve lost in my human form. Unfortunately, this doesn’t include things like my pride or dignity. Though considering how long it’s been since I had a date, I might have found my virginity again. Aside from those minor bonuses, though, bein...

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“Crossed Paths” by Michael Palmieri

Submitted to Contest #271

June 2003 Shane had just graduated from high school and was attending a party. He stood in the front yard, waiting for his blind date to show up. His friend had set him up, insisting the girl was amazing—someone he absolutely had to meet. But after three hours and a few drinks, Shane’s hopeful anticipation began to crumble into disappointment. Shane sighed heavily, his once hopeful attitude fading into something more dismal. "Why the long face?" a voice chimed in, catching him off guard. A girl, probably just two or three years older than h...

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“Have We Meet Before?” by Michael Palmieri

Submitted to Contest #271

“Call Mrs. Hayes. Let her know her husband is awake.” Noah's eyes fluttered open, his vision blurry at first, adjusting to the harsh fluorescent lights above him. A steady beep echoed in his ears, and he felt the cold, sterile sheets draped over his body. His limbs felt impossibly heavy, as though he'd been weighted down for months. He tried to move but found that even the smallest twitch sent waves of pain through him. A door creaked open. Footsteps approached. A man in a white lab coat appeared at his bedside, clipboard in hand, his face s...

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“Resurrection, Romance and Red Dragon Testicles” by Michael Palmieri

Submitted to Contest #270

“Welcome to Summoning for Advance Summoners Volume 3”The kid holding me looked around in a panic, “Who said that?”“I did.”He continued to look around, “Who is talking?”“I’m the book you opened.”The kid walked over, picked the book up, and looked at it curiously.“You can talk?” he asked skeptically.“I can,” I answered. I had no eyes, but I had a mana sensory gland, which enabled me to see, hear, and smell everything within twenty feet of my location. So, I was more than capable of seeing the panic on the kids face when I spoke to him. “Oh wel...

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“The Key ” by Michael Palmieri

Submitted to Contest #269

I was seven years old when I first noticed the key. It hung in a picture frame above the mantle, catching the light in a way that made its surface shimmer with a faint rainbow glow. I couldn’t help but stare at it, mesmerized, wondering what it unlocked. When I asked my grandparents about it, they spat on the floor, their faces twisting in disgust. "Find something else to worry about," they said, dismissing me sharply. It always struck me as strange—that they would keep something in their home, prominently displayed, yet speak of it as if ...

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“Confession” by Michael Palmieri

Submitted to Contest #268

It was the final day of the trial, just moments before Stan was being convicted for two murders. He already confessed his story once in a private chamber with his attorney and the prosecution, but halfway through they stopped listening and rejected the confession. This led to him taking the stand and getting the judge to allow him to confess his side without interruptions. This is not what the prosecution wanted as it will shine some flaws upon them. “Your Honor, I never thought I’d be in this position—sitting in court, accused of the mu...

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“Buttons” by Michael Palmieri

Submitted to Contest #267

“I’m home!” the man called out as he stepped inside, kicking off his shoes at the door. “Hi, honey. How was your day?” his wife asked, appearing a minute later. “It was a day,” he sighed. “But I’m home now, and that’s what matters.” A soft sobbing echoed from down the hall. “Is something wrong with her?” the man asked, his brow furrowing as he headed toward the girl’s room. He knocked gently before pushing the door open, finding his daughter lying in bed, pretending to sleep while muffling her tears. “Hey, sweetie,” he said softly, sitting b...

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“From the Shadows” by Michael Palmieri

Submitted to Contest #266

It was a humid night. I sat out on my back porch, looking out into the yard. I sipped a glass of wine, enjoying the breeze from the fan above. Shadows of people began to take shape before my eyes. Some stood there, doing nothing, while others chatted among themselves or acted out scenes. They all did this to capture my attention because I could take them one step closer to becoming alive. I focused on one of the shadows, a familiar figure I’d spoken to often, though he never appeared the same way twice. Sometimes, he was a young man; other t...

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“Drafted and Doomed” by Michael Palmieri

Submitted to Contest #266

Cliff woke up and looked around. “Damn it! I’m still here!” he muttered. This was the third time he had woken up at this farmhouse, and he was getting annoyed. Cliff was well aware of who—or rather, what—he was. In moments like this, he hated it. Cliff was the author’s designated main character until the final draft was written, at which point he’d be swapped out for the intended, crafted protagonist. “What was wrong with the last draft?” Cliff yelled up at the sky, as if shouting at a god. He often wondered if the author could even hear him...

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