Every-day Life with a Twist
BA Storytelling
Short Stories
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On this page you will find a collection of my short stories. Each story available to read here will also be submitted to a podcast called Ron's Amazing Stories. You will be able to listen to each story on Ron's podcast through the link located at the end of each story.
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Happy reading, and happy listening!
A Cherub’s Dilemma
Pink cubical walls shuddered as Jerry shoved away from his desk and made his way to the elevator. Other cherubs poked their heads over cubical walls to watch. Some tried to call out to him, looks ranging from concern to sorrow on their faces. No one knew that he had been thinking of quitting for a couple of days now. Their division was in charge of reviewing and cataloguing client cases. As Valentine’s Day was approaching, Jerry had hoped to review more successful cases. Instead, Jerry wearied of the growing number of broken hearts that flashed across his screen with each passing day.
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He punched the call button and tapped his foot impatiently as each chime indicated the elevator’s retrieval from lower floors. Jerry avoided eye contact as he waited, staring down at his polished black wing-tipped shoes instead. He shut out the curious murmurs and focused on the chiming of the elevator. When at last the elevator arrived, Jerry moved to step forward but found his way blocked by a pair of white wing-tipped shoes. Slowly raising his head, Jerry took in the pristine white suit, red collared shirt, pink tie with a gleaming gold arrow tie-pin, and lastly the blue eyes and blonde curls of Eros himself.
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“B-b-boss! Sir!” Jerry stuttered in surprise.
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Eros flashed a gleaming smile. “Going somewhere?”
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Jerry felt his face flush as his mind went blank. “I was just . . . I mean . . . fresh air . . . maybe . . .” He trailed off as Eros gave him a sad, knowing look.
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“Why don’t we have a chat in my office?”
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Jerry blinked and realized that Eros already had an arm around his shoulders, leading him back through the lines of cubicles. The other cherubs hurriedly ducked back to their own computers and the air was filled with the sound of clacking keyboards and clicking mice once more. Jerry hung his head in shame as they approached Eros’ office. He hadn’t meant to cause any trouble.
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“Now,” Eros said as the door clicked shut, “tell me what the problem is.”
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Jerry picked at his sleeve, avoiding eye-contact again. “Well . . .” he started, “the big day is coming up . . .”
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“It certainly is,” Eros encouraged.
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“And there’s just so many unhappy clients out there,” Jerry finished in a rush. “It almost feels like true love doesn’t exist anymore.”
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Eros nodded sadly. “I understand how you feel. I’ve felt that way myself several times over the years.”
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“What keeps you going, then?”
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Eros reached for a remote on his desk. There was a TV monitor on the wall that flickered to life. Eros tapped a button and started a slideshow. The images showed a continuous stream of happy couples and families framed by hearts. Some images showed widows and widowers placing flowers on graves, or sitting beside closed coffins. After a few minutes, Eros paused the slideshow.
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“True love never dies,” Eros said thoughtfully, fingering his gold arrow tie-pin. “All of those unsuccessful cases . . . well, they’re just cases that weren’t meant to be. It does get frustrating and depressing every now and then, but that just makes the actual successes that much sweeter.”
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Jerry nodded thoughtfully. “I guess that’s true.”
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“Let me show you something else that’s given me courage the last couple of years.”
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Curious, Jerry watched the screen flicker and a video pop up in place of the slideshow. “I recorded this last year and wouldn’t be surprised if he does it again,” Eros explained. “If you ever get discouraged, think of this young lad’s efforts. He doesn’t know if the clients he helps find true love or not.”
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A tall, young man entered the video frame wearing one of the most interesting outfits Jerry had ever seen. The man was covered head to toe, but the shirt and leggings he wore were skin-colored, and there was a puffy white diaper pinned around his waist. His wings were a dirty, imperfect imitation of Eros’ own gleaming feathers and they were strapped to the man’s shoulders with more flesh colored material. Jerry watched in amazement as the man boldly marched into a dirty ware-house carrying balloons and a glittery gift bag.
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“Is he one of ours?” Jerry asked.
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“No,” Eros chuckled. “He started this delivery business in my name on his own. Calls himself Cupid of all things! If you were to watch more of his deliveries, you might spot a cherub or two tagging along with arrows at the ready.”
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In the video, the man waited patiently as the ware-house workers gathered on the floor and the intended recipient was pushed out to the middle. The worker blushed bright red as the diapered lad loudly read a heart-felt poem and handed over the balloons and gift bag. As he walked away, Eros paused the video and gave Jerry a wink.
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Surprised, Jerry found himself smiling. The lad in the video was utterly ridiculous, but his work wasn’t much different from what the company did. “I suppose there’s hope after all,” Jerry admitted.
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Eros nodded.
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“Would you excuse me, sir?” I should return to work.”
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“But of course,” Eros said with a smile.
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Jerry slowly walked back to his cubical, determination welling in his chest. He sat back at his desk and drummed his fingers on the edge as he sucked in a steadying breath. With a click of his mouse, he opened the next pink file in his queue. A young couple smiled at him over bubbling champagne glasses. He carefully reviewed the notes beneath the image and recorded the data on the specialized Cupid tracker that determined if relationships were successful or not according to the data inputted.
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After several minutes of careful typing, Jerry at last hovered his mouse over the tracker’s red button that prompted: True Love? Sucking in a deep breath, he closed his eyes and clicked the button. If successful, his computer screen would fill with bubbly hearts. If unsuccessful, a cracked heart would flash on his screen. Bracing himself, he opened his eyes.
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Pink and red bubble hearts filled his screen, and Jerry sat back in his chair with a sigh of relief. Tension drained from his shoulders as he saved the file and opened a new one. There were no other successes in his queue for the rest of the day, but Jerry clung to that one success and Eros’ words that true love never dies. Not every couple was meant to be, but every couple deserved a chance. As he clocked out for the night, Jerry looked out the windows at the world and wished all a Happy Valentine’s Day.
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Date Night Fright
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“Why are we here?” Lizzy whispered.
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“It’s just for a bit of fun, you’ll see.” Jack answered.
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“I want to go back.”
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Thunder crackled overhead.
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“We’re almost there. Don’t chicken out now.”
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“Jack, please, let’s go back. I’m scared.” Lizzy grabbed his arm and tugged him to a stop. “This was a bad idea. I want to go home.”
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“It’s just a house, Lizzy.”
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“I really don’t feel good about it, Jack. Please take me home.”
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There was a click and then a beam shone up the drive. Jack flipped the flashlight around into Lizzy’s face. “What do you see to be scared of? The old Johnson home has been empty for years.”
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The house towered before them, dark and daunting against the gray storm clouds obscuring the moon. It had been fifteen years since the Johnson family had mysteriously disappeared after their daughter, Eliza, drowned in the pond behind the house. Lizzy’s dark brown hair blew across her face in the breeze and thunder rumbled overhead. Jack’s eyes were penetrating as he waited for her answer. She took a deep breath and then reached for his hand. “Fine. Let’s go.”
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“That’s my girl!”
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He dropped the beam towards the ground as they approached the front porch. Boards creaked under their feet as he reached forward and jiggled the doorknob. The door swung inwards revealing a cobweb covered, dusty entryway. Lizzy squeezed Jack’s hand as they crept across the door jamb and into the living area. She gasped when she saw the furniture; the ground was littered with crystal shards from the fallen, rusted chandelier; the couches were shredded as if some feral animal had raged through the house; bricks and dust tumbled from the wall where a fireplace once sat. Jack chuckled nervously.
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“Badgers must’ve gotten in. Nothing to worry about.” He sounded calm, but his hand squeezed hers tightly as they proceeded through to the kitchen.
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A similar sight met them when the beam swept across the cupboards and appliances. Doors hung precariously from twisted hinges, glass had blown from the oven and microwave, linoleum clung to the ground in tattered shreds, and mold spilled from the open fridge. Cobwebs hung thickly in the windows and across the pantry’s entrance where they could smell more mold and spoiled food. Glass crunched underfoot as they retreated back into the living area and towards the hall.
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“Must’ve been one hell of a party,” Jack whispered. His grip on Lizzy’s hand was relaxing a little, but she clung tighter as they progressed towards the stairs.
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“Haven’t you had enough yet?” she asked. “They say Eliza came back and tormented her parents after she died. That’s why they disappeared. What if she’s still here?”
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“That’s nonsense. They probably just moved. Let’s check just one more room,” Jack said, pulling her onwards.
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The stairs were rotting and sagging. The carpet was thread bare in some places and Lizzy could feel her foot sink near the top of the stairs. The upstairs windows must have been broken because the crisp autumn breeze clawed at their jackets as they tiptoed forward. Jack carefully swept the flashlight towards each door as they made their way past. They had almost reached the end of the hall and Jack was reaching for the last door when a blood-curdling scream tore through the silence. Lizzy whipped around, shoving Jack in front of her, and closed her eyes tight.
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A pale, ghostly woman with wispy black hair stood at the head of the stairs in a flowing white gown. Her hands were raised to her veiled face as she continued to shriek. The flashlight crashed to the floor as Jack stumbled backwards into Lizzy and they both fell back into the wall. The woman stopped screaming and cocked her head to one side, stretching an arm towards Jack and crooking a finger.
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“Who dares disturb our slumber?” another voice rasped.
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Lizzy peeked through her fingers. Jack had her pinned in the hallway corner, but she could see the woman at the stairs and a new figure emerged from the doorway Jack had been about to open. It was large and hulking, shrouded in shadows. Lizzy clung to Jack and cowered further into the corner as the two figures approached.
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“I told you,” she moaned. “I told you.”
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Jack’s mouth hung open in speechless horror. A rare moonbeam slipped through the broken window and revealed more figures emerging from the other rooms. They shuffled and dragged as they surrounded the corner. Their voices rasped and their cackles froze him where he stood. The ghostly woman reached forward as if to grab him and at last he was able to move. He ducked and tore away from Lizzy’s grip, rolling as he swiped the flashlight, and tumbling to his feet just outside the reach of a humped old lady waving a cane at him. He barely glanced at her distorted, wrinkly face before racing for the stairs. He heard Lizzy scream his name, but he jumped the remaining stairs and made for the door.
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Lizzy cowered in her corner until Jack was out of sight, then stood and met the eyes of the ghouls. They each put a finger to their lips and crept down the stairs with Lizzy to peer through the front door. They could all see the flashlight beam waving wildly down the slanted driveway and then saw headlights spring into life. The motor roared and Jack’s truck peeled away with the sound of screeching rubber. Lizzy looked to the ghouls and then bent double laughing.
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One by one, masks were pulled free, veils dropped away, and props were tossed to the side. Lizzy’s friends from the drama club all broke out into giggles and fits of laughter. They slapped high fives and exchanged excited congratulations with each other. Nobody noticed as an extra shadow entered the room.
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“Did you see his face?!” Breanne giggled.
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“Couldn’t have timed it better,” Zach agreed.
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“You are such a good actress,” JC said.
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“He’ll never forgive me,” Lizzy gasped. “I can’t believe you convinced him this would be a great place for a date, Zach!”
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As the laughter died away, a cold chill settled in the room. The shadows seemed to deepen as phone flashlights lit up and the party gathered up their things. They made for the door, still celebrating their success, when a cold hand fell on Lizzy’s shoulder. She turned and faced the pale face of an unfamiliar, grey-eyed girl.
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“Who –” she started, then froze.
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“My turn,” Eliza Johnson giggled as the front door slammed shut, trapping everyone. Lightning flashed outside the window, lighting up the pale girl’s face. She had only been fourteen when she drowned. Blue veins stood out starkly against her paper thin skin and her mousy brown hair hung in stringy clumps. Her clothes were stiff and wrinkled. The girl grinned and gripped Lizzy’s wrist in her own bony fingers. “Eliza wants to play too.”
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Coming Soon
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. . .
Coming Soon
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. . .