Tricia Shulist

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Feb, 2021

Stories (191)

191 Stories

1427 karma pts

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“My Easy Bake Oven” by Tricia Shulist

MY EASY BAKE OVEN “Huh.” I looked down at the cardboard box holding the melted husk of my Easy Bake Oven,. “Why would they keep it?” I said, aloud, even though I was alone in the attic. I had been cleaning out the attic. My dad had recently passed, and my mom had made the heart-rending decision to sell the house and move into a senior living complex. It really was a good idea. Mom was on her own now, and well, she was lonely. This big old house was more of a chore than an oasis for her. And Mom needed an oasis.&nbs...

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“The Edit” by Tricia Shulist

THE EDIT … They looked into each other’s eyes, and said nothing. There was nothing more to say. Instead, they just walked away from each other, and everything they had ever shared. Forever gone. The End ***** “So, I guess that’s it, right?” “I don’t know. I guess. It's what Mercedes wants.” Jayla considered their predicament. “It doesn’t seem quite right, does it? After all this time together. To have it end so suddenly.” Dominic felt as sad as Jayla sounded.  “No, it really ...

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“We're On Strike! You Can't Fire Us!” by Tricia Shulist

WE’RE ON STRIKE! YOU CAN'T FIRE US! “AND CUT!” yelled the director, John Houston (“No, not that John Houston” he’d been saying for years). “Thank you, people, another one in the can. We’ll see you all back here tomorrow—” “Nope! You won’t.” Houston whipped his head toward where the voice came from. “Who said that?” he demanded. “Me!” A young woman wearing the futuristic bodysuit from TriStar Deliverance, the movie they were currently filming, stepped forward, waving her arm so that Houston could see her. “Me, Jane Wes...

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“It's Too High!” by Tricia Shulist

IT’S TOO HIGH! “You know it’s an irrational fear, right?” I looked at Joel. We’d been together for almost a year. He knew me fairly well. And, he knew that I was deathly afraid of heights — acrophobia. Anything over two storeys and I was out. Right now, we were standing on at the edge of a cliff. Well, Joel was standing there. I was sitting down, away from the edge, looking at the ground. “I’m sorry you think it’s irrational. But, I don’t see it that way. Bad things happen at heights.” ...

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“A Little bit of Kindness” by Tricia Shulist

A LITTLE BIT OF KINDNESS “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay, Belle.“ I stroked her hair, whispering into her ear. “But, you have to be quiet. Very, very quiet. Quiet like you’re dead!” I continued to stroke her head. “Shhhh, baby. Shhhh. I’m right here. I’ve got you.” I could feel her trembling beneath me.  ***** One of the things that I love about being retired is being retired. I can go where I want, when I want. And today, my granddaughter Annabelle and I were g...

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“A Different Type of Debutante Ball” by Tricia Shulist

A DIFFERENT TYPE OF DEBUTANTE BALL Mallory clomped into the kitchen, small clods of dirt falling from her boots to the floor. She looked down and saw the mess that she had made.  Slipping off her boots, she walked to the back porch and put her boots outside. Next, she walked to the broom closet, removed the broom and dust pan and started to sweep up the dirt. “What are you doing?”  Mallory looked up, and there, in all her glory, was her step-mother, Connie. “Hey, Connie,” said Mallory. “It’s Constance.” ...

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“For the Greater Good” by Tricia Shulist

FOR THE GREATER GOOD Mary Beth and Sam sat on their screened in porch, watching the sun set behind the Chocolate Mountains, enjoying a cool adult beverage. “That sure was pretty,” said Mary Beth. “Uh huh,” said Sam. The couple had lived in California, in an aging prefab home on the shores of the Salton Sea for fifty-five years, since they were married in 1968. “Did you hear?” asked Mary Beth. “What?” asked Sam. “About the lithium.” Sam continued to stare to the west, watching the sun’s dying rays paint the sky a deep ...

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“It's Gonna Be Okay” by Tricia Shulist

IT'S GONNA BE OKAY “Ohmagod, ohmagod, ohmagod! We’re gonna die!” “Stop it! We are not going to die!” “If you don’t kill us, the cops will.” “No they won’t. It’s all good. Everything’s fine! Now shut up and let me drive!” The sirens whooped and flashed behind them. Kendall stomped on the accelerator, sure they were going to get away. Josey was sure they were going to die. “Hang on!” shouted Kendall as she made a last-second left-hand turn down an alley. “AHHHHH” screamed Josey, as she hung...

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“All In All, A Good Night” by Tricia Shulist

ALL IN ALL, A GOOD NIGHT  Ro and Catey were sitting on Ro’s front porch, an expensive vellum envelope on the table between them. More importantly, though, an empty wine bottle sat between two empty wine glasses. “I’ll get us another. I’m not sure — are we celebrating or commiserating?” Catey snorted. “I’m not sure, either. But either way, we need more wine.” When Ro returned with a lovely bottle of Pino Noir, she filled both of their glasses, perhaps a little fuller than usual, but desperate times ca...

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“Ninety Days, Then It's Yours!” by Tricia Shulist

NINETY DAYS, THEN IT’S YOURS! I could hear the music thumping through the walls of my office. I looked at my watch. Right on time — eleven fifty-four. The contract said the show needed to end before midnight.   “WE’RE DONE! NO ENCORES! GO HOME!” screamed the amplified voice of the lead singer. Then a chorus of boos, and “You suck!” and “We hate you!” You had to love punk bands. It’s like they hated their fans, almost as much as their fans hated them right back. I looked at the monitor, and I c...

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“Heard It Through The Grapevine” by Tricia Shulist

HEARD IT THROUGH THE GRAPEVINE Callie Watson was having coffee with her friend, Jennifer Saunders. Both were high school teachers at the same school, Central High. They had a long-standing meetup for Friday after school to meet at Mr. Bean, the local coffee house. It was a bitch session for both women who found it extremely therapeutic to be able to moan and gripe about their week. Who better than another teacher to know what it was really like in the trenches? Where else can a fourteen year-old call you an f-ing ...

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“If I Can't Have You ...” by Tricia Shulist

IF I CAN’T HAVE YOU … I was so excited. It was perfect!   Let me back up a bit. I refurbish unloved furniture. Usually its hand-me-downs, or inexpensive pieces found on Facebook Marketplace. Sometimes, like today, the pieces are what I like to refer to as orphan pieces — pieces I find on the curb on garbage day, or at the side of the road. Today’s find was just sitting there, beside a dumpster, waiting to come home with me. It was a lovely desk. I didn’t know why someone would throw it out, but they did...

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“Chill, Dude!” by Tricia Shulist

CHILL, DUDE! The last day of classes. Exams are the only things between the students and summer. This is a senior class, so most of the kids have summer jobs, and the majority are headed off to university or college. There are a few who are heading right into the world of work or an apprenticeship, and a few who are coming back in September because they don’t have enough credits to graduate.   This is a physics class. Definitely not an easy class. Most students have struggled with the concepts presented, ...

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“Chip Off The Old Block” by Tricia Shulist

CHIP OFF THE OLD BLOCK I know I’m different from all the people living in my pod. Maybe even in the enclave, or the entire territory, for all I know. And I have realized it for a few days now. I’m just not sure what to do about it. It started on Monday. Or it could have been going on a bit longer and I just didn’t realize there was a problem.  Who knows? But it was Monday when I first realized there was a problem. With me. Anyway my co-worker Angela and I had worked late on a project, a demand made b...

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“Listen To Me” by Tricia Shulist

LISTEN TO ME The first time it happened, I didn’t pay attention. I’ve learned, since then, that’s not a good idea. I was maybe nine years old, walking home from the bus, thinking about a project that I had to work on for school the next day. I was alone because my stop was the last stop on the route, and Henry Bonners (pronounced Baw-ners, not Boners, like the kids at school called him) and I were the last kids off the bus. Henry’s house was at one end of the street, and mine at the other, and Mrs. Brown, the bus driver,...

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Author bio

Love reading. Trying to be a better writer. Meshing both through Reedsy.