VJ Hamilton

“Queen versus Queen” by VJ Hamilton

Excerpt from the diary of Cordelia Brussels, lady-in-waiting to HRH Elizabeth IGreenwich Palace, 1593Dear Diary,The court was a-flutter with rumor of her majesty’s visitor today. I saw it in the heightened shine of their finery, the extra alertness in their eyes. Even my dear mousy friend Agatha wore a pretty shade of brown.The naval commander told me last week the visitor schedule...

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“Liar, Liar” by VJ Hamilton

Submitted to Contest #156

What can I say? The guy’s my best friend—but he’s a pathological liar. This morning, for instance. We are at the indie coffee shop, in a line-up moving as slow as Saturday on a long weekend. Norman places his order, saying, “It’s a lovely day for a latte,” and the barista gives him a second look before she touches her order screen. She takes a cup and asks for his name. “Sam,” he says. His eyes flicker to her name badge ...

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“Swings and Roundabouts” by VJ Hamilton

Submitted to Contest #155

When I heard Aunt Maisie’s warble on the voice-mail I groaned. Although she and Uncle Leland are no-fuss visitors, the type who’d welcome a cheese sandwich at my kitchen table, I suspected they had an agenda behind their impromptu visit in late spring. They’re good friends with Genevieve’s family. I wanted an excuse for a knock-down belly-busting barbecue. I was in the mood to coax a T-bone steak to perfection on ...

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“The Snow the Snow the Snow” by VJ Hamilton

Submitted to Contest #153

Crack! Crack! The blade of Branden Bannerman’s icebreaker chipped at the mound of ice in his backyard. The snow had been thick this year, smothering everything, including the flimsy carport roof. After every snowfall, he had shoveled off the roof, creating a gargantuan snowbank, which the kids called “our iceberg.” In the freeze-thaw cycle of early spring, it was far too icy for the kids to ride their toboggans ...

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“Tell Me More” by VJ Hamilton

Submitted to Contest #150

 “Think about others? I am sick and tired of thinking about others!” Barb Ellacott posted to the main message board of her favorite chatroom, SundayPainters.com. In person, Barb was meek and mild with everyone in her seniors’ low-rise condominium, but she loved SundayPainters (motto: “For Artists 9 to 90”) and felt she could let her hair down in the chatroom, even if it were long tangly tresses instead of the practical g...

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“Retraining” by VJ Hamilton

Submitted to Contest #149

The coal-fired power plant is closing, ready to turn off the lights forever in its industrial complex, and Petra shudders before the winds of change. She gamely attends the half-day retraining sessions, preparing to “deploy her skills in other sectors of the economy.” Late at night she seethes with the question Why me? but in daylight she obeys the poster plastered everywhere: Stay Calm and Carry On. She ...

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“Your New View Awaits” by VJ Hamilton

Submitted to Contest #148

The property agent cancels at the last minute. “But the key’s in a lockbox so you can still go in and have a look at this beauty,” she assures us in her breezy, overconfident way. With some key-jiggling, I unlock the door to the recently advertised “Your New View Awaits - Classy 1 BDRM Walk-up” I step inside, looping my finger around my purse strap, stretched as tight as it will go, and feel the purse’s weight bu...

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“Film Club” by VJ Hamilton

Submitted to Contest #147

They sat in the flickering darkness, watching the final credits. For two hours, Mark Dirac had shared part of the universe with Blanche, breathing in her scent, listening more to her small creaturely noises than to the Japanese movie, After Life. Two hours of bliss. Oh sure, he had worried a little about his body, about not mouth-breathing and not tongue-smacking, and not being overcome by the occasional hardeni...

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“There is No I in Scream” by VJ Hamilton

Submitted to Contest #146

The memo goes out a month after I join EasyCo: everybody must attend the team-building exercises. I must remember to bring my opener. My group includes Jaden, also a new hire. He’s cute in a J.Crew unstained T-shirt kind of way. Six big sleek buses trundle us out to a rustic hideaway, a monster log cabin where we assemble in the frigid air conditioning. Perch on chair-sized wooden cubes, we watch the opening cere...

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“Hand Shoe Elegy ” by VJ Hamilton

Submitted to Contest #145

Year 0 He dies during lockdown, on his way over to feed the cattle of a sick neighbor. The funeral was rushed and ill-considered, like a battlefield amputation. Two months later, when gatherings are greenlighted again, we decide to hold a memorial service. When we can’t find a decent photo of my notoriously camera-shy father, the event co-ordinator suggests we “highlight a personal item, something to focu...

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“Takapuna Photo” by VJ Hamilton

Submitted to Contest #144

In the hot, crowded market at Takapuna, sweat trickling under my arm, I pull out my sleek little Nikon 35Ti. It is the final month of our sabbatical in Auckland. Four-year-old Daniel is leaning toward a tray of baked goodies, small glazed confections slathered with gooey white, dotted with teasing reds, sprinkled with edible glitter. On the first Saturday every month, this vendor comes by with tray after tray of exotic d...

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“Wolverine Lake” by VJ Hamilton

Submitted to Contest #143

“The trees encountered on a country stroll Reveal a lot about that country’s soul… A culture is no better than its woods.” ― W.H.Auden Katrina and I were strolling down Lake Road, licking the stubs of the tiger-stripe ice cream cones we’d bought at Green’s Grocery. We were surround...

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“Conan the Librarian” by VJ Hamilton

Submitted to Contest #142

The world is awash in words, short words and long words, hasty words and well-thought-out words, words that cluster to form books and magazines and all kinds of semi-permanent media. What, then, to read? What teaspoonful to sip at while the tsunami breaks over your head? Behold Conan the Librarian. Conan is ready to recommend what you should read next. He is a librarian par excellence but is most brilliant...

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“Tough Love” by VJ Hamilton

Submitted to Contest #141

We walked along the wind-blasted shore, where the scimitar wings of a lone osprey sliced great arcs through the late-winter sky. Syrita was about to drive back to the city. She shoved her hands deep in her pockets, cheeks ruddy from the breeze. “You’ve got Room 201 for the long weekend. No car, no cash, no credit card. No Wi-Fi. Just get the damn thing done. Okay?” I nodded. I felt immeasurable gratitude for her “...

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“Dodging a Bullet” by VJ Hamilton

Submitted to Contest #140

“I remember the shooting… but even more… I remember the silence once the guns stopped,” Grimsby said. He paused and fixed an eye on his son, Grimsby Junior. “Does this speech sound like a barnburner or what?” The two men were in the side room to the stage, getting ready before the school assembly. Centering his tie knot, Junior grinned at their reflections in the full-length mirror. “Sounds great… go on.” G...

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