Walter Wright

“Breaking Good Habits” by Walter Wright

Submitted to Contest #224

Anthony slouched over the edge of his bed, “Fuck this, I can’t sleep.”  This night’s whirlwind of nostalgic memories and past embarrassments landed on one reflection question. “Could you ever make the perfect day? Will I be able to rest then?” he asked his nightstand of books and vitamins. Standing up, Anthony chugged a glass of water. He flipped on his desk lamp, igniting an amber blaze like that of a fire. Pacing in and out of the light, he planned on tomorrow — as though he hadn’t already done so several hours prior, possibly a...

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“Answer to Closure” by Walter Wright

Submitted to Contest #217

What do I do it all for? Jeffrey patted his hair and aired out his dress shirt, unbuttoning the top button. A young valet routinely held the door open and greeted the sophisticated gentleman.  “Good evening!” Peach fuzz for a mustache and a brush of pimples over his cheeks, Jeffrey shook the boy’s hand, “I know the miles, my guy. No funny business.” The valet, realizing the blue bill in his right hand, ensured direct eye contact, “Of course! I’ll park you right out front!” Jeffrey nodded and walked through the revolving door. ...

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“6,287” by Walter Wright

Submitted to Contest #204

The actual presence of the moment is often the scariest thing. In the absolute of awareness, the mind is ignited by all thought. Possibilities, memories, and associations all revolve in a sporadic haze to formulate one forefront of cognition. The past and future fuse into a manifestation of what can be, and that is an action.  Amid the rocky valley, thousands of people enter the present’s fold. Vibrations of anxiety and confusion scatter malignantly in each couple, family, and simple individual. The train station is fully stocked with...

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“Cornerstone Takedown ” by Walter Wright

Submitted to Contest #202

“Carter, you got any gasoline by chance?”“There should be some in the garage — wait, what?”Bennett ran two strides for every step to the back. The table was already broken, battered to pieces, and had no further use except be fuel for a ceremony. The party needed a climax. It just made sense in the intoxicated mind of Bennett. Why go halfway and give people the expected, he thought. People only remember the tail ends of the normal distribution curve. The crowd gathered around a teepee that looked like a sideways Eiffel Tower. Bennett pu...

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“Drawing The Lie” by Walter Wright

Submitted to Contest #200

“So they call it adawda I believe?” “I think pronounced ayahuasca.” “Whatever, the point is I heard he’s gone off the deep end,” mimicking a sip. Her husband gasps, “Drinking?” “Pills too!” “How are you so sure?” “Nicole, left work early. On her desk, she left her calendar open. Guess what it said.” “What?” “Pick up Jasper’s medication.” A stupid silence fell, “That’s it?” “Just last week Jasper hurt his back,” she tosses her hands, “Hurt back. Medication. You know that’s some type of opium.” “Like chocolate syrup to a ...

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“The Mud Pie” by Walter Wright

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #199

Damion’s mind wanted to go, but there was nowhere else except the space between his ears. His eyes darted acquiescently, capturing and processing everything around him. The lights, which had a faint lime shade to them; the train’s seats, which all looked like the plaster of bathroom stalls; the windows, marked with scratches and fingerprints; from the gum spots to the skin folds of neighboring passengers, everything seemed as though it was yelling in a pointless chaoticness. He wished to teleport himself back home.  “So who do you thi...

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“Resolute Manifestation ” by Walter Wright

Submitted to Contest #179

“Do you have any idea what two raccoons fucking sounds like?” “No, I cannot say.” “It’s like a mix of the crinkling noise when the vacuum hits the right spot and raw, primal passion. Shit, one was bleeding last time." Rob tried to cover his judging smile with a yawn, nodding along, “Oh really! That-that sounds like something….” “Robo if I gotta give any advice: Never fall asleep with the window open and a half-eaten peanut butter sandwich left out. That shit is like caviar to them.”  “Wait so that’s how they got in your room?”...

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“Systematic Rebel ” by Walter Wright

Aisles of pupil-searing fluorescent light define each row. The tables, straight, connected, and orderly, discourage any thought of eating or talking. Below, desaturated titles hold what little dreams these soundless feet can carry. People file in with bag-heavy eyes and stiff hair. Raspy whispers and mucus-dripping sniffs chime synchronously like birds chirping one another. Believe it or not, I’m expected to learn something here.  Our Commander in Chief marches down to her post a minute before the bell. At her hip loosely taunts a Rol...

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“Walk Away” by Walter Wright

On this day, Tuesday, the most unambiguous indication of a higher power revealed itself. The sky cemented over its pure blue. Each cloud molded thick puffy definitions. For the few noises present they were natural and pleasant. Passing hums of strangers mixed with distant cicadas rattles. Everything was just right for a walk, a bike ride, a tan in the backyard, a book, or a simple lie down in the dew-free grass. Zachery Waitman was a selected soul, by coincidence or god, to take on this day.  “C’mon, c’mon,” he muttered in his window-...

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“Make The Move ” by Walter Wright

In between the salty seaweed smell of the ocean fights the doughy goodness of fresh bread. The taco stand is busy but Sonny had just arrived before the evening rush. The breeze plays with his bourbon brown which he hates. He waits patiently behind two customers. Given the ocean’s noogie, and the fact he can’t decide which menu item he wants stirs a pot of anxiety within him. The first lady finishes her order by signing the receipt so now he only has one person left. Sonny usually keeps it simple, steak taco with cilantro and onions. But now ...

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“Forgetting Permanence ” by Walter Wright

It was one of those naps in which the nightmare started when I woke up. It is one thing to say you’re not alone but another to feel it. I don’t know maybe this is how life is and only some get bothered by it.  I looked right into the mirror, trying to comprehend myself, “Wow, this is living right now. I am alive. This is me. A reality is happening and I am a part of it. No pause. I keep living. An endless cycle of actions and reactions until the final decision.”  Out the door and onto the street, I began my walk to work. The ci...

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“The Beat We All Live In” by Walter Wright

There’s often a voice that is destined to attract the eyes, and for Daniel, this is one of them. A voice so harmonious, that the sight of a man in full body tattoos snorting powder couldn’t distract him. It is a festival after all. Blonde, brown eyes, and a soft glare made Daniel knock over the box of 312 beers.  Kevin rushes over, “Hey idiot, are you picking these up or what?” “Yes. Are you trying to dip?” “Go on break?” “Yeah, but for like the rest of the day,” Daniel cannot look away. Kevin gets up, “You do realize that in ...

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“Life Without The I” by Walter Wright

Submitted to Contest #102

Joe breathed himself into an utter canvas of blackness. Some minuscule dots of red, orange, a purple float here and there.  He envisioned his small pet hamster from home. Atticus was his name. A puffy ball of life that could do a lot but choose to eat, run his wheel, and sleep. On the off occasion, he would scramble to bite his way out of his cage, but once in a ball or given a snack he forgot. Atticus had everything he needed and more with the care of Joe. Slowly, surely, Joe felt lighter, happier. Suddenly he was in Atticus's cag...

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“The Michelin Star Fry Cook” by Walter Wright

Submitted to Contest #100

There are so many rats in the city. I understand why but it really is a problem. Just beside my smoking spot, waist-high piles of bulging garbage bags fill up most of the alley. In between hits, I experience the most diverse whiffs of rotten meat, fresh bread, and urine. Yet, the night remains night as partygoers still walk by and express their suppressed energy in each hairstyle and flashy accessory.   The back door opens, “Freddy, we need you in early. The dinner rush is heavy tonight.” “I’ll be in just a second.” The door ...

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“Burning Man” by Walter Wright

Submitted to Contest #97

The house is its own nightclub. Bass-driven music hypnotizes all the young men and women into obnoxious huddles and scenes. I probably fit my own stereotype but I never understood why others fully choose theirs. Shifting through the crowd I see Charlie and Max wearing boat shoes, no socks for some reason, and a size-too-small polo. That’s only on my left. To my right, three girls, who I also went to high school with, wear far too much makeup that glows with each passing of strobe light. Just like in the cafeteria, just like in gym class, the...

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