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A weekly short story contest
Author on Reedsy Prompts since Oct, 2024
Submitted to Contest #278
Politics were banned before dinner was on the table. The argument began, as these things often do, with something small and insignificant. This time, it was the stuffing recipe for Thanksgiving dinner. Aunt Lisa wanted to try something “healthier”—quinoa and cranberries. Uncle Ron declared, with all the bluster of a man defending sacred tradition, that stuffing wasn’t stuffing unless it was soaked in turkey grease and stuffed where it belonged. Always crude, he softened his argument for the elders and the womenfolk. But it wasn’t really...
It was the summer of 1854, and Jack Turner, sixteen and fresh off a shift hauling bricks and mortar up scaffolds, thought himself a fine, strapping young man ready for a taste of freedom. San Francisco, in those days, was no city for the soft-hearted or faint of spirit. It was a place that raised you sharp and tough, where even the sunrise seemed a little mean, casting a hard, dusty light on all it touched. Jack, with three of his mates from the construction yard, swaggered down the street toward the rougher side of town. His friends, Ben, S...
Submitted to Contest #273
“Don’t tell anyone,” the new guy whispered, looking over his shoulder like he expected a SWAT team to bust down the door any second. The words reeked of desperation and fear, mixing with the foul stench of the egg salad he had for lunch. This was James, the new moron—the one I had stupidly decided to take under my wing. My gut clenched. Something wasn’t right.His face was pale, his breath jittery like a man who hadn’t slept in days. I stared back at him from my chair, already regretting this whole interaction. I didn’t like being cornered.“W...
Lived a noteable youth and now in pre-retirement. Family man following this open plain.
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