Michael Shaw

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Oct, 2021

Stories (4)

4 Stories

85 karma pts

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“The Last Word” by Michael Shaw

Submitted to Contest #153

The second Jacob removed his gnarled fingers from the rook, he'd seen his fatal mistake. He silently cursed and hoped that Malcolm would miss it somehow. But he knew better, and Malcolm's hoarse cackle a few seconds later was all the confirmation he needed. If his hands had been surer, and his reflexes faster, Jacob would’ve switched off his hearing aids before Malcolm could start rubbing his face in his mistake. But they weren’t, so he was forced to subject himself to it. “Check and mate,” Malcolm exclaimed with glee. “That’...

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“I Want to Buy a Miracle” by Michael Shaw

Submitted to Contest #152

A fine coating of sweat on his brow, his furtive glances, and the way he was incessantly scratching at his palms gave the man, third in line to order his meal, away as paranoid, nervous, or both. The lunch crowd at Marigold Masala Fine Indian Cuisine & Takeout had been a steady one, giving Kamya Kumar, who was working the cash register, little time to pay attention to anything but what each customer was ordering. Still, she’d noticed the man the moment he’d stepped into the restaurant, and had hardly taken her eyes off him as he made his...

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“Play It Again ” by Michael Shaw

Submitted to Contest #151

This story contains violence, profanity, and death "Play It Again" It goes like this: I down a shot of rye. It’s cheap shit, and it burns like hell all the way down my throat. It nestles in the pit of my stomach, embers crackling heat long after the flames are extinguished on my tongue. I slap a five on the bar and motion to the bartender. He’s a burly fuck with a bulldog-face and forearms the size of ma’s famous Easter hams. We don’t exchange words, the barkeep and me. He knows what I want and gives it to me, splashing another liberal ...

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“The Hare-Raising Adventures of Non-Essential Jeff of Rhode Island” by Michael Shaw

Submitted to Contest #115

Jeff lumbered into the kitchen, opened the fridge, grabbed the plastic milk jug, unscrewed its cap, and took a deep swig. If Alison had seen, he'd never hear the end. But she hadn't. Alison wasn't home; hadn't been since the stay-at-home order. Unlike Jeff, a tired, middle-tier analyst, Alison had been considered essential. Jeff had not only been deemed non-essential, but his boss had determined that he was, in fact, wholly expendable. So, he'd been expended. Essential Alison—a lawyer who practiced, well, some sort of law that Jeff ...

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Author bio

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