Tom Harvey

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jun, 2024

Stories (6)

6 Stories

88 karma pts

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“Tides of Regret ” by Tom Harvey

Submitted to Contest #268

The roses on the bedside table had already begun to wilt. In a green glass vase, a weeping teddy bear clutched a bright fabric heart, the words "Get Well Soon" emblazoned in faded letters across its downy paws. It stared out at the room with plastic eyes, witnessing the slow decay of everything around it. The discordant beeps of hospital machinery and the rhythmic hiss of a mechanical ventilator, breathing for a patient on the other side of the flimsy curtain, replaced the vibrant hum of life. Jim lay in bed, waiting for the merciful touch o...

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“Broad Rock ” by Tom Harvey

Submitted to Contest #267

Rain fell out of the broken sky, and everything surrendered. Not even sidewalks, which became sludgy with mud that clung to boots and pant bottoms, survived the onslaught. Those who dared brave the violent maelstrom, raging like a foaming sea, quickly turned tail and headed back inside to the warmth deep within homes, sheltered from the wind that wailed and moaned like a ghost lamenting death.On a shingled rooftop by the sea, an albatross cowered and waited for the menace to move on, for black to become blue, so that she could return to...

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“Blind Date” by Tom Harvey

Submitted to Contest #267

Most people think of death by poisoning as a clean way to go. I knew this was simply not true. It's not like people ingest a poison and simply pass out and die. Death by poisoning is violent. As the violated organs begin to shut down and to fight against the corruption, they struggle to hang onto life just as fiercely as someone drowning."If I was looking to poison someone - to kill them - I'd go with ricin."Jacob's warm eyes met mine from across the table as he chewed on the end of a toothpick, ruminating on my words, perhaps a little turne...

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“Nine Inch Spin Cycle” by Tom Harvey

Submitted to Contest #266

The rhythm of the dryer reminded me of industrial metal. Seated on the blue plastic chairs under the cool white glow of fluorescent lights, I closed my eyes and imagined Trent Reznor sitting backstage waiting to come on. The squirt of water into one of the washing machines added to the symphony, and the increasingly manic whir of the rapid cycle brough the tempo up a notch. The laundromat was empty except for me and one old guy who was sitting on the opposite side of the room. I doubt he was expecting a Nine Inch Nails gi...

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“On the Existence of Authors ” by Tom Harvey

Submitted to Contest #266

I had long suspected my thoughts were not my own, nor my actions, and I had pondered deeply on the nature of life and the possible existence of someone or something beyond. It was like I was not wholly myself anymore, and that no matter how I tried to nail down some aspect of myself that was truly me, I could not find that essence of self at my core. And try as I may, I could not pinpoint exactly how I felt. It was like being too many selves in one body, with too many conflicting desires and emotions. Too many people I wa...

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“Leaving Home ” by Tom Harvey

Submitted to Contest #265

The ocean sighed a warm, sticky breath that bellowed across the ocean brought with it the scent of seaweed and mangroves. The beach surrendered to the oncoming advance of saltwater. Under swaying casuarinas, near a campground among the tall blades of yellow grass, the magician lay dead, and I began to pick through the haze of thoughts of how I came to be here. I had never before left Rockdale. The laneways and alleyways around my Bay Street home were a part of me as much as the blood in my veins or the lines on my palm. Me and the gang...

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Author bio

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