Samuel S.

“The Console Tinkerer” by Samuel S.

I watched the short woman in the olive green sweater grab the last Nintendo Wii from the shelf. She was about to make a mad dash to the nearest cashier when I stepped in front of her. “Alright. How much?” “Excuse me?” I reached into my wallet and pulled out a fistful of twenty-dollar bills. The woman’s look of annoyance turned quickly to a look of interest. “A hundred dollars.” I said. “I’ll give you a hundred dollars for that Wii.” The woman looked down at the large box in her hands and then back up at me. “You got two hundred?” She s...

1 like 0 comments 0

Read story

“A Morning Spent in Escanaba” by Samuel S.

Submitted to Contest #95

Will Donnelson took a swig of Bud Lite and turned up the radio. Creedence Clearwater Revival exploded from the car’s speakers. He imagined his mother, pressing her hands to her ears and crying “It’s so loud!” before insisting he switch over to NPR or one of those stations that play the same three bubblegum pop songs over and over again. For the first time in his life, he got to listen to the songs he wanted to listen to. The taste of freedom was almost as good as that of the beer, one of many beverages filched from the mini-fridge in the gar...

9 likes 0 comments 0

Read story

“The Catholic Mission in Low Earth Orbit” by Samuel S.

Submitted to Contest #44

There was a mistiness in the man’s eyes as he affixed his gaze upon the wooden idol of Christ suspended above the altar. In the past few months, Father Rodriguez had become familiar with this look. On a day-to day-basis, few inhabited his pews, but whenever there was a visitor, they did not come lightly. It did not surprise the Bishop, given the geographic nature of his churchgoers’ profession, to see the immense anguish and anxiety they brought to this place of worship. Still, he could not help but look upon the dark expressions of the men ...

6 likes 1 comment 1

Read story

“This Side of the Pacific” by Samuel S.

Submitted to Contest #44

They married on that day in Japan when the ground quaked, the shores drowned, and the nuclear plant exploded. Thankfully, the ceremony was held in Seattle, not Sendai. Still, those in attendance came silently to the shore, to contemplate the ocean, to marvel at how serene it seemed in Washington State, knowing what they did of the situation in Tōhoku. That which happened more than four thousand miles away cast an eeriness and trepidation over the rest of the celebration. How might they sing and dance and drink with fifteen thousand dead over...

5 likes 1 comment 1

Read story

“Relish” by Samuel S.

Submitted to Contest #35

“Just the usual, please. One hot dog with relish.” Hannibal handed me his five-dollar bill. I grabbed it and went to open the register, but found myself stopped dead by the unblinking gaze of Lincoln. When Jason woke me up early this morning, so that we could set everything up, he reminded me that we promised to go through with it on the first day of spring. No particular reason, we just needed to have an easy to remember deadline. But as I sat there and scrutinized the paper eyes and facial hair of Abe, I tried to remember why I ever m...

2 likes 0 comments 0

Read story

“Red Dance of Spring” by Samuel S.

Submitted to Contest #35

On the first day of spring, the white mares had to trot for but a minute down the dirt road before pausing. A singular, small field separated my own family’s estate, Maysonshire House, from the manor of Lord Weldonsford. Yet my mother urged me to make quite an entrance on this, such a special and enchanted night. So it was that our finest, whitest horses pulled up to the front steps of the Weldonsford Manor and I emerged from the dark-as-night carriage. I gazed down nervously at the great salmon-colored dress I wore, bedecked with enough fri...

2 likes 1 comment 1

Read story

“Acid Rain” by Samuel S.

Submitted to Contest #34

One day, there began an acid rain that never stopped. This wasn’t just an average acid rain. Besides lasting, as I write this, several decades now, the other peculiar thing about this storm is that that acid is extremely potent. It can hurt, it can burn, it can kill. Within the first day, over two hundred people died directly from exposure to the rain, and over seven thousand people reported severe burns. Like the Kennedy assassination, everyone remembers their location when it happened. I was in college, specifically my dorm room. My roomma...

9 likes 4 comments 4

Read story

“Extraterritoriality” by Samuel S.

Submitted to Contest #34

Victor Bartram was the name of the U.S. government agent waiting to arrest me the moment I stepped outside the Swedish Embassy. At least, I thought so. The ambassadors passed onto me that bit of information, and while they speak perfect English, their Swedish accents are so thick at times it’s hard to know for sure if I heard them correctly. And though I see the man every day, I am hardly in any position to ask him for his name. Our interactions are wordless. I stand there behind the top story window of the embassy, he sits there behind the ...

3 likes 0 comments 0

Read story

“Chess at Uncle Sebastian's” by Samuel S.

Submitted to Contest #34

“Your move.” I slid my white bishop across the board and knocked down his black king. “Ah, checkmate!” Uncle Sebastian said. “You beat me again!” I couldn’t bring myself to exclaim or even smile. I knew he had the best intentions in letting me win, but it reminded me how pitiable my situation was. When it comes to chess, Uncle Sebastian didn’t like “taking it easy,” even on amateurs or kids. He pats himself on the back for being a tactical genius, a modern-day Bonaparte, and refuses to shatter that reputation, even if that means making some ...

4 likes 1 comment 1

Read story

“The Correspondence” by Samuel S.

Submitted to Contest #34

Dear Mr. Everson, I’m not sure if you remember me. My name is John Walton. I graduated from Henry Knox High School in 2008. I took your European History class my Senior year and I was really inspired. It’s because of you that I decided to become a history teacher. To get my diploma in secondary education, I’m required to student teach at the high school level. I was wondering if I could come and teach in your class for a few weeks. If not, I totally understand. You’re probably very busy. But if you’ve got the time and patience to put up with...

6 likes 0 comments 0

Read story