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Joe Liotta

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Oct, 2024

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16 Stories

238 karma pts

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I Cried the Day Superman Died

Weekly Contest #354

I remember. I remember I cried the day Superman died. Try as I might, I just couldn’t hold it in. I mean, I hadn’t even cried at my dad’s funeral and here I was, in my mid-twenties, and reading a comic book with tears streaming down my face. You see, I grew up with Superman. The old reruns of the TV show. The movies. The comic book. You name it. My first contact with him was when my father took me to the neighborhood candy store and bought me my first Superman comic book. Initially, the visit to the candy store was merely to ...

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Tailor Made to Save Space

Weekly Contest #350

Glenn Fishbaum stood about five-feet-nine-inches tall, a man in his early thirties bearing a striking resemblance to, as his friends put it, “that Mulder character from The X Files” – though he himself could never see the alleged similarity. He was of average build, with neatly-trimmed brown hair, and a pair of deep, almost hypnotic, umber eyes. And he was addicted to comic books – indirectly the source of his current problem. Presently, he paused for a moment, and took a long drag on his cigarette, meditating upon the thin, blue-gre...

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The Farewell

Weekly Contest #339

Konishi Sahei closed his ancient, grey eyes and inhaled deeply. The small room was suffused with the smell of chrysanthemum. He liked that; it reminded him of his younger days. Opening his eyes once again, he became aware of the charcoal pit beside him. The water in the chagama – the traditional metal kettle used in the Japanese tea ceremony – had begun to simmer and sigh, and he listened to its gentle music. For a moment, he studied the simple vessel – its perfect, rounded shape dotted with minor, intended imperfections; the une...

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Tailor Made to Save Space

Weekly Contest #336

Glenn Fishbaum stood about five-feet-nine-inches tall, a man in his early thirties bearing a striking resemblance to, as his friends put it, “that Mulder character from The X Files” – though he himself could never see the alleged similarity. He was of average build, with neatly-trimmed brown hair, and a pair of deep, almost hypnotic, umber eyes. And he was addicted to comic books – indirectly the source of his current problem. Presently, he paused for a moment, and took a long drag on his cigarette, meditating upon the thin, blue-gre...

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One Inside the Other

Weekly Contest #330

They had been apart for some time and had only recently resumed an old and dear friendship. Admittedly, there had been moments where he had wondered if he would ever see her again, and supposed that she, likewise, had entertained similar thoughts. It was nice to know a good friendship still existed after all this time, and they each breathed a quiet sigh of relief –though neither would ever admit it. Over the past six months, they had been through thick and thin together, having given emotional support to each other during some try...

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I Cried the Day Superman Died

Weekly Contest #328

I remember. I remember I cried the day Superman died. Try as I might, I just couldn’t hold it in. I mean, I hadn’t even cried at my dad’s funeral and here I was, in my mid-twenties, and reading a comic book with tears streaming down my face. You see, I grew up with Superman. The old reruns of the TV show. The movies. The comic book. You name it. My first contact with him was when my father took me to the neighborhood candy store and bought me my first Superman comic book. Initially, the visit to the candy store was merely to get me...

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A Private Little Miracle

Weekly Contest #321

Frank Butler sat motionless; a little man, very erect and sitting well back from the seat in front of him. He seemed exceptionally confident and pleased with himself, and so he was. In approximately three-quarters of an hour he would touch down at Ossun Airport, just a stone’s throw from Lourdes, France, and then embark by automobile to the religious edifice. He looked around the interior of the First Class compartment. Most of the passengers he had never seen before – just like he had never seen the Vandergrafts until that fatefu...

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The Hunt

Weekly Contest #320

The old gate creaked noisily on its rusty hinges, jarring shut behind Marjorie Davenport’s slender form and startling the Siberian husky that padded softly along beside her. The young woman bent down momentarily, patted the dog’s head, gently scratched the white fur of his cheeks in a consoling gesture before resuming her stroll. A cold night wind slapped softly at her face, tugged lightly at her hair. She pulled the collar of her jacket tightly about her to shield her from the chill and walked slowly out onto the main road toward the...

4 likes 1 comment 1
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A Private Little Miracle

Weekly Contest #311

Frank Butler sat motionless; a little man, very erect and sitting well back from the seat in front of him. He seemed exceptionally confident and pleased with himself, and so he was. In approximately three-quarters of an hour he would touch down at Ossun Airport, just a stone’s throw from Lourdes, France, and then embark by automobile to the religious edifice. He looked around the interior of the First Class compartment. Most of the passengers he had never seen before – just like he had never seen the Vandergrafts until that fatefu...

1 like 0 comments 0
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One Inside the Other

Weekly Contest #309

They had been apart for some time and had only recently resumed an old and dear friendship. Admittedly, there had been moments where he had wondered if he would ever see her again, and supposed that she, likewise, had entertained similar thoughts. It was nice to know a good friendship still existed after all this time, and they each breathed a quiet sigh of relief –though neither would ever admit it. Over the past six months, they had been through thick and thin together, having given emotional support to each other during some try...

2 likes 0 comments 0
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A Private Little Miracle

Weekly Contest #307

Frank Butler sat motionless; a little man, very erect and sitting well back from the seat in front of him. He seemed exceptionally confident and pleased with himself, and so he was. In approximately three-quarters of an hour he would touch down at Ossun Airport, just a stone’s throw from Lourdes, France, and then embark by automobile to the religious edifice. He looked around the interior of the First Class compartment. Most of the passengers he had never seen before – just like he had never seen the Vandergrafts until that fatefu...

3 likes 2 comments 2
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Tailor Made to Save Space

Weekly Contest #301

Glenn Fishbaum stood about five-feet-nine-inches tall, a man in his early thirties bearing a striking resemblance to, as his friends put it, “that Mulder character from The X Files” – though he himself could never see the alleged similarity. He was of average build, with neatly-trimmed brown hair, and a pair of deep, almost hypnotic, umber eyes. And he was addicted to comic books – indirectly the source of his current problem. Presently, he paused for a moment, and took a long drag on his cigaret...

7 likes 0 comments 0
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Tailor Made to Save Space

Weekly Contest #299

Glenn Fishbaum stood about five-feet-nine-inches tall, a man in his early thirties bearing a striking resemblance to, as his friends put it, “that Mulder character from The X Files” – though he himself could never see the alleged similarity. He was of average build, with neatly-trimmed brown hair, and a pair of deep, almost hypnotic, umber eyes. And he was addicted to comic books – indirectly the source of his current problem.Presently, he paused for a moment, and took a long drag on his cigarette, meditating upon the thin, blue-grey whisper...

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One Inside the Other

Weekly Contest #290

        They had been apart for some time and had only recently resumed an old and dear friendship. Admittedly, there had been moments where he had wondered if he would ever see her again, and supposed that she, likewise, had entertained similar thoughts. It was nice to know a good friendship still existed after all this time, and they each breathed a quiet sigh of relief –though neither would ever admit it.        Over the past six months, they had bee...

12 likes 2 comments 2
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The Farewell

Weekly Contest #287

       Konishi Sahei closed his ancient, grey eyes and inhaled deeply. The small room was suffused with the smell of chrysanthemum. He liked that; it reminded him of his younger days.        Opening his eyes once again, he became aware of the charcoal pit beside him. The water in the chagama – the traditional metal kettle used in the Japanese tea ceremony – had begun to simmer and sigh, and he listened to its gentle music. For a moment, he stu...

7 likes 4 comments 4
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