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Paul Crehan

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Sep, 2023

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62 Followers
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13 Stories

480 karma pts

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That Thing that Happened at the Cave

Weekly Contest #340

[Trigger warning: Abortion.] My nose and cheeks are cold. They don’t hurt yet. The back wheel on my wagon shudders, so the wagon does. And the handle. And my hand. I don’t mind about the hand. It’s warmer than the other one. The shuddering breaks up the cold in it. Gran says David comes home tomorrow. I can fix the wheel, but David needs to drive me into town for new pliers. Gran says nonsense, they’re in the house somewhere, but she’s mixed-up. She threw them at those coyotes last week, and I couldn’t find them after that. But they ran off...

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Theo and Me

Weekly Contest #298

Theo and Me By Paul Crehan Theo smiled at the butterfly that had landed on the back of his hand. “Look how beautifully the burnt orange of sunset is recapitulated in its wings,” he said to me. “And these borders—black as the abyss.” He gave me one of those patented Theo looks, like there was some goddamned metaphor he was aiming at, and that I was supposed to understand it. In the past, I would have picked it up and run with it—joyfully, even. But now, I couldn’t give a shit. And I hated the word ‘recapitulate.’ He used it too much; used it...

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The Wedded Couple

Weekly Contest #264

The Wedded Couple By Paul Crehan They had met at a bakery four years ago. Now here they were, a bride and groom in a hotel kitchen, waiting for their big entrance into the reception. “You look happy,” the groom said, and said the bride, “I couldn’t wipe this smile off my face if I tried.” He squeezed her hand. “Me, too.” They listened to the DJ spin dance floor magic, and listened to the happy hubbub of 110 guests. The toasts and speeches—all that—had been funny and heartwarming. An uncle of the groom was particularly good—had the banquet h...

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Drawing Together

Weekly Contest #242

Drawing Together By Paul Crehan “Do you think things work out for the best?” “Sorry?” she said, removing an earbud and turning his way. “People say that,” he continued, “but I wonder if it’s true. Maybe it’s just some comforting thing we tell ourselves.” If he were hitting on her, this was the weirdest hitting-on she’d ever encountered. But maybe he wasn’t talking to her, but to someone in his ear? Unless—was he crazy and talking to himself? He turned to look at her directly. He looked…benign—but crazy people often did. He was waiting patie...

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Engagement

Weekly Contest #237

Engagement by Paul Crehan Teddy helped a confused fellow named Joe find his way home. Home was the Maria Prima Senior Center. Once there, strengthened by relief, old Joe haled his fugitive reason back from the margin of his mind. He invited Teddy for a coffee in the rec room. The sun remained in the window, even as it sank below sight. Teddy enjoyed Joe’s company. The man spoke easily of cabbages and kings in a delightful accent Teddy correctly identified as Corkonian. As Teddy started making motions to leave, Joe seized his forearm. “An...

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Why Is Jake Always So Lucky?

Shortlisted for Weekly Contest #227 ⭐️

Why Is Jake Always So Lucky? A short story by Paul Crehan As a kid, he was the one who found quarters on the sidewalk—and a lot of times he’d get two Hershey Bars out of the vending machine when he’d just paid for one. Two or three times, when he wasn’t ready for a test, the teacher wouldn't show up. Test cancelled. Stuff like that. His whole life. And look at this now, today—the first snowfall of the season, coming down like God had emptied the bin of his paper shredder, and there’d be no less than three feet of it in a couple of hours. ...

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Lan McHugh Lived a Good Life

Weekly Contest #225

[NOTE: Burn victim imagery] Lan McHugh Lived a Good Life by Paul Crehan Professor Roth said to the class, “For your final, you’re to create a self-portrait. Interpret that as you will. Oil, watercolor, pencil, collage—whatever you wish. The one requirement? It must be honest. I want you to see you. I want you to show me you. Don’t hide. Reveal. Be the naked model of yourself.” Lan shifted on his stool and looked around at the others. Fourteen of them. For three of them, Mai, Reese, and Bobby M, this would be a walk in the park. Their acce...

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Lurch

Weekly Contest #224

Lurch A Short Story by Paul Crehan NOTE: There are two brief but possibly upsetting images of gruesome death in war. Popping a zit, Laurens thought, I’m pretty philosophical about everything. He had hoisted his feet up onto the desk and crossed his ankles. He had clasped his hands at that area where people usually had a belly but where Laurens had a concavity. When he took his Marine Corps physical at 18, the doctors ran tests because there was no way a kid who was 6’3” should only be a buck forty in weight. But they found nothing wrong w...

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(to write down messages in the night)

Weekly Contest #224

(to write down messages in the night) A short story by Paul Crehan “I can’t sleep,” he said. Francoise looked up from her book and over the top of her reading glasses. “Maybe take another gummie?” she suggested. George’s brow knit. Francoise said, “Don’t worry. I won’t let you throw yourself in the oven thinking you’re a leg of lamb.” “Very kind of you,” George said. “I’m an excellent wife. It’s five more milligrams. You’ll be fine. You’ll sleep.” She was still looking at him over the top of her glasses. “What are you reading now?” he...

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Dr. Chad Finds a Kid Bleeding in the Ivy

Weekly Contest #223

Dr. Chad Finds a Kid Bleeding in the Ivy by Paul Crehan ***PLEASE NOTE: This story contains references to and imagery of sexual assault and carnage. The Chancellor told the two-hundred gathered in the banquet hall that Dr. Chad had arrived in Paris with nothing but the clothes on his back. This wasn’t hyperbole, the Chancellor told them. This was fact. Dr. Chad had arrived without shoes. A greedy river bottom had pulled them from his feet thirty miles from the city. So, he had arrived barefoot, and with nothing but the clothes on his back....

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A Ghost's Story

Weekly Contest #221

A Ghost’s Story by Paul Crehan “So, Mr. Simmons, I see from your chart that you believe you’re a ghost.” “Because I am one,” I said. Dr. Teague wrote something down on the legal pad in his lap. “I see,” he said. “But that’s the thing,” I said. “You do see. You see me. You see that I’m a ghost.” “Uh-huh,” he said, noncommittally, because of his training—as in, don’t upset the crazy person. But I wasn’t crazy. I was a ghost. “Well, if you don’t mind, let me ask you,” Dr. Teague continued, “how do you define ‘ghost’? What is the nature, ...

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A Story for the Ages

Weekly Contest #220

i. I came because Dr. O’Meara wouldn’t tell me over the phone what she had discovered. “You won’t believe it,” she said. “I don’t.” “I’ll believe it,” I said. “You won’t. And I’m afraid you might think the desert has gotten to me, and maybe it has. The locals tell me they see it, too, but I can’t be sure they’re not humoring me. They’re paid by the day. If I have to go away for treatment, they lose work.” “You do sound distressed.” “For good reason. For god’s sake, Del, just get here, okay?” As it touched down, the helicopter threw san...

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Who Are We to Judge the Music of an Octopus?

Winner of Weekly Contest #217 🏆

Who Are We to Judge the Music of an Octopus? A short story by Paul Crehan The octopus swam up the aquarium like an arpeggio up staff paper. Bob listened as he watched. What did he hear? I’ll be damned, he thought. Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring. With a discordant note here; now there. But the effect wasn’t jarring. It was communicative. Was that octopus communicating with him? No. Impossible. Well, maybe not impossible—what did he know about octopuses, or any cephalopod, really?—but surely improbable. Nonetheless, it was fun to think about—t...

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