Scott Skinner

“Choose Wisely ” by Scott Skinner

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #90

Content warning: abuse I used to put my dirty socks on my brother’s pillow. I’d put them on top of the pillowcase so when he walked into our room he would see them lying there like dead fish. Then I got better, and to delay my gratification, I’d stuff them in the pillowcase. I’d always use my stinkiest socks - basketball practice, skatepark, rainy day - but my brother had a notoriously bad nose and never smelled them right away. Usually, a couple of days would go by while these foot condoms stewed in his pillowcase. He’d notice zits on his f...

60 likes 29 comments 29

Read story

“Supposed to” by Scott Skinner

Submitted to Contest #89

It was Mitty’s birthday, but that didn’t matter; he was shouting again. This time he was in the kitchen. His voice was loud as he yelled, “Benvenuto Cellini said you should be able to see the story of your life by the time you're forty years old!” Pfeiffer was picking up toys in the living room. She liked to keep herself busy when they were fighting.“Sorry, we’re not good enough.” She said.“It has nothing to do with you.” He said.“How can you say that? I’m your wife.”“So what? It’s not that. It’s me. It’s what I’ve done.”“You’re a great...

28 likes 3 comments 3

Read story

“The others” by Scott Skinner

Submitted to Contest #88

Once upon a time, Yeti was mean to Baby Bear. Yeti had a smile stitched onto his face, but when Sophie wasn’t around, Yeti snarled. It was clear he was one of the ones who didn’t act how he looked. He wasn’t a unicorn cat, a tiny penguin, or a beanie baby skunk; you always know what you’re going to get with one of those. Yeti was different, he lived with the others, but he was more of Sophie’s dad’s toy than Sophie’s. Whenever they played with the stuffed animals, Sophie’s dad was Yeti, and Yeti always STOMPED and SMASHED. This had a ma...

24 likes 6 comments 6

Read story

“Tit for tat” by Scott Skinner

Submitted to Contest #87

Until I met my girlfriend, the only holiday I cared about in April was 4/20. I’m sure when I was younger, I cared about Easter, but we’re not talking about baby Jim; we’re talking about grown man Jim. Jim, who’s got a car note and is paying $1700 in rent every month. Jim, who’s got $13,400 in his savings account, pulls in $120,000 OTE and is living with a girl who’s crushing it even more than him. Nancy makes $140,000 OTE. She pays the other $1700 for rent, and when the utility bill arrives, she covers all of it. I know, it’s pretty sweet. S...

33 likes 3 comments 3

Read story

“Flowering Walrus” by Scott Skinner

🏆 Winner of Contest #86

My wife chopped off the stems of these innocent white roses about two weeks ago. She put the dozen of them in her favorite glass vase and filled it up. She hasn’t changed the water once, and now it’s murky and growing algae. It looks like the Heather Farm pond that turned green that one year, except it’s not green. It’s just super dirty looking. She thinks flowers are pretty. Apparently, it doesn’t matter if they’re dead or alive; she just has to have them in the house.She made me go to the store and buy baby’s breath the other day. Helluva ...

346 likes 183 comments 183

Read story

“Charmed” by Scott Skinner

Submitted to Contest #85

In the cities they occupy, the homeless are as much a part of the community as any other group. They inhabit the wedge-space under every bridge and make nests behind fences near freeways; they establish tent cities beside train stations and turn playgrounds into drug spots. You don’t need to go downtown to see them. Even residents in wealthy neighborhoods catch glimpses of the homeless on random mornings when one pops up on the sidewalk outside of their homes. The transient ones always look confused, like they’ve just escaped abduction, and ...

16 likes 1 comment 1

Read story

“Rodney” by Scott Skinner

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #84

The wrinkles that outlined Elder Selby’s face became more prominent after his divorce. A year ago, he would have told himself that the lines were part of the aging process, which wasn’t entirely inaccurate but didn’t explain the reason for acceleration. He was thirty-eight but looked much older. The shadowed lines on his face were the divorce, and everything in his life that was then and that came before. Stamped upon him were wrinkles like fault lines tracing back to his failed pursuit of happiness. The lines hinted at all of his losses, li...

36 likes 8 comments 8

Read story

“One night only” by Scott Skinner

Submitted to Contest #83

CW: mentions of abuse, substance abuse   At the thirty-minute mark, I grabbed the snack bag ziplock from the glovebox and dumped the eighth of mushrooms into my mouth. Their dryness and rubbery texture sucked the salvia from my cheeks and under-tongue so that I had to chew considerably more than I would have liked to. I had my eyes on the road, my hands gripped the steering wheel, but the sensory organ playing captain was my tongue. My taste buds acted like driver ants collecting each part of the mushrooms’ earthiness. A faintly fecal n...

12 likes 1 comment 1

Read story

“Infinite Scroll ” by Scott Skinner

Submitted to Contest #82

In a compact parking spot in the East lot, Hamilton sits in his car and waits for me to exit Central California’s Women Facility (CCWF), the female-only prison where I’ve just finished serving fifteen years on drug trafficking charges. It’s February 22, 2021. The newspaper tells me that America’s passed five-hundred thousand Coronavirus deaths; that is grim, and I’m also a seventy-year-old felon; a friendless widow with only a son to love. The facts are hopeless, and I might feel the same if it wasn’t my release date, if my son wasn’t waitin...

13 likes 4 comments 4

Read story

“And a” by Scott Skinner

The white, thirty-seven-year-old man asks the woman beside him, “Is that really your name?” She’s a year older and is expecting the question. She works in tech and uses the word "data" five to twenty-five times per day, depending on how many calls she has. The data she’s collected from her dating life thus far shows a trend; all her dates have asked the question.“Yea. It’s really my name.” She tries her best not to roll her eyes, knowing that doing so this early on would be murder-suicide; plus, she’s made a promise to herself that she’...

10 likes 1 comment 1

Read story

“Phases” by Scott Skinner

Submitted to Contest #80

Surrounded by twenty or thirty thousand souls on the Polo Fields of San Francisco’s Golden Gate Park, I was eighteen when I took my first hit of LSD. The San Francisco Oracle, a hippie newspaper distributed in the Haight-Ashbury neighborhood, announced the event, ‘A new concept of celebrations beneath the human underground must emerge, become conscious, and be shared, so a revolution can be formed with a renaissance of compassion, awareness, and love, and the revelation of unity for all mankind.’ The allure of unity for all humanki...

14 likes 1 comment 1

Read story

“Dumbo” by Scott Skinner

Submitted to Contest #79

It was her birthday (one of the late-twenties ones). At that point, I was drinking Wild Turkey 101, Basil Hayden’s, Makers Mark, Buffalo Trace, Woodford Reserve, and anything else I wanted. I’ve learned the difference between whiskey and bourbon more than once, but it’s never stuck; It all smells like booze to me. Back then, nights started with drinking and driving. What a time! I drove us into the city, my Pathfinder’s stereo blared rap music. If I had asked her what she wanted to listen to, she would have answered, “Lana Del Rey.” The Nove...

12 likes 0 comments 0

Read story

“Style (5 points)” by Scott Skinner

Submitted to Contest #78

Dunn tugboated his way around the convention center parking lot. He passed tons of available spaces and was equally oblivious and accepting of the daze that had seized him. He was having difficulty re-framing his son’s participation in the Best Bagger Competition as something to be proud of. It messed up his ability to park, he wasn’t in the right headspace to make decisions. His dad friend’s had kids that were all doing cooler activities than his son, West. One dad friend in his orbit had a kid that was the starting tight end on the footbal...

17 likes 7 comments 7

Read story

“Tamarack” by Scott Skinner

Submitted to Contest #77

Leona was overwhelmed by the realization that Miller might have set the whole thing up on purpose. She thought that he was too coy about the episode and that he must have known what was going to happen. Ken’s head rested on her lap as she replayed the evening and saw every intention in Miller’s actions like fresh paw prints in white snow. She sat against the corner of the log cabin, not too far from the fire, on the floor. Ken laid on his side in the fetal position. He smelled like vomit, it seeped through the pores on his sunken face like t...

11 likes 2 comments 2

Read story

“Popcorn Ceilings” by Scott Skinner

Submitted to Contest #76

Tate might have a weed problem. He might have a chemical imbalance. He might be completely normal, just like everyone else. He’s not sure. One thing he knows is that the days he can harness his ‘I don’t care’ attitude are easier. On those days he thinks screw it, it doesn’t matter. Instead of would that be stupid to say? Why did I say that? Are they looking at me? Tate listens to Dax Shepard’s podcast. Dax is rich and famous. Tate is a B average student and his mom pays his rent and his other expenses, even his weed. Dax is in touch wit...

15 likes 4 comments 4

Read story