Nicholas Amato

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Nov, 2024

Stories (4)

4 Stories

88 karma pts

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“Finding Lucas” by Nicholas Amato

Submitted to Contest #279

(**This story contains explicit language, violence and gore**) “He’s in there. I know he is,” said Mark to no one, kneeling behind a tree and staring through binoculars. He started to count, “three, four, five. I can take five.” This was only the people he could see, and he couldn’t be sure that there weren’t more. He’d have to wait another hour, then go in under the guise of darkness or risk being caught. An hour was a long time to wait when all you want is to be reunited, but if he wasn't smart about this, he’d die before he could ever he...

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“On The Run” by Nicholas Amato

(*This story contains explicit language, violence, and mentions suicidal thoughts*) I’m on the run again. Fuck me, I’m on the goddamn run again. And why am I on the run again? That six letter devil of a word. Murder. Fuckin’ murder. So how did I get into this mess? I’ll tell you. My name is Eric Tatenbaum, and this is my story. Six years ago, my best friend in the world was diagnosed with stage IV pancreatic cancer. Instant death sentence. Unfortunately, it wasn't an easy road for him. There was a lot of pain and suffering. And it ended wi...

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“The Life of Edward Hughes” by Nicholas Amato

Submitted to Contest #277

May 19, 1955 Mandatory counseling is better than jail time, I suppose. I guess I owe the Judge that much. My therapist’s name is Judy. To be honest, I think she’s a quack. Yeah, that’s right Judy. I hope you read this. I don’t want to talk to you. You’re forcing me to write in this stupid journal. Journaling is stupid. And so are you. There… I’ve written something this week. I guess you can sign off on my timesheet. May 26, 1955 Back again. Apparently, writing any words I feel like doesn’t count towards my time served. Yes, that's how I’m ph...

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“Time is Short” by Nicholas Amato

Submitted to Contest #275

A man is limply running through the streets of New York, weaving between herds of commuters who are too busy to look up from their phones. As he runs, he glances left and see’s the corner street sign reads 58th and Madison Ave. Ten more blocks to go. He returns his attention in front of him, but it’s too late. He collides with a man in his fifties who is carrying a cup of coffee. Hot liquid scolds the runner, who screams out in agony. But it doesn’t slow him down. After all, the clock’s ticking. “What the fuck?!” the man holding the co...

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Author bio

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