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VJ Hamilton

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Feb, 2020

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340 Followers
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94 Stories

3712 karma pts

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Bullet Train

Agnes Beaulieu looked out her window as the bullet train pulled out of Tokyo station. Harsh late-morning sunlight alternated with shadows from buildings and tunnels: light-dark, light-dark-dark, light-dark-light, with increasing frequency as the train picked up speed. She gave a heavy sigh. For four years she had been accompanying young Katriona on trips from her father’s place in Seattle to her mother’s place in Kumamoto. It was not unlike bronco busting, with Katriona bucking and pitching the whole ride while she, Agnes, simply tried to ke...

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Drunk Santa

Weekly Contest #167

“Did you see their faces?” the man in the Santa suit says, suppressing a hiccup. The bar is dim, cheap fixtures casting a blanket of anonymity into the farthest corners. Shelves of liqueur bottles—red, yellow, blue, green, amber—gleam like a jeweled high altar. A tinsel garland is looped on the corners of a framed picture of Jerry Springer, and mini lights are strung around the entrance to the bathrooms. A few sad sacks are nursing their beers at separate small tables. Merle Haggard’s wailing, “Some day when things are good.” And then there...

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Freedom 95

Weekly Contest #166

Elliott retired years ago and Maxmillion Pennyworth, his financial advisor, compliments him on his glowing health. Until today, when he frowns. “The challenge, Elliott, is longevity risk.” “Longevity?” Elliott chuckles. “That’s a nice problem to have.” “In these high-inflation times, you might outlive your assets. That’s not so nice.” Maxmillion says. “Of course, you could consider a ‘top up’… do you have a preference for right or left arm?” “Right, right…” Elliott has been nodding along as usual to Maxmillion’s polished phrases and is ca...

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The Harvest

Weekly Contest #165

In the night, Lucia awakens and remembers how it used to be, those hot summer days in Tuscany when everyone at the villa stretched out for siesta. She gravitated to the boathouse, where she’d mosey into the murky shade with the sound of water slapping the hull. And soon there would be Guido, also seventeen, climbing out from the water, pushing back his dripping hair. “Come, slip into the water,” he’d say, trailing fingertips over the surface. “No, Ma worries when I swim alone.” “But you’ll be with me.” Shy smile. “Oh, a boy! That’s even ...

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Cabbage Hill

Weekly Contest #164

Charlie checked his Rolex. An hour before his flight to Toronto and the connection home. He had one final pre-arranged stop. He drove the rental Camry down the street of stunted maples and shaggy bushes until it reached Perimeter Road, then went two blocks beyond. Here we are, the house that time forgot. The bungalow needed paint and the front yard was overgrown with thick-stemmed thistles. The blinds were half-drawn on the two front windows, like the lids of two watchful but tired eyes. In the city, Charlie knew this kind of dereliction: an...

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A Night to Remember

I was waiting tables on a not-so-busy evening at the Old Mill restaurant the summer before my final year of actuarial science, a discipline all about probability and death. Although cycling to work was more dangerous, and Jenna argued I shouldn’t do it, I spent less time doing it, so in fact it was safer than riding a bus. Moreover, cycling took my mind off the new state of relationship limbo we had entered. A week earlier Jenna had been offered a scholarship abroad. Our summer fling was about to end—or enter a new phase, I wasn’t sure whic...

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Some Enchanted Evening

Weekly Contest #161

Nurse Alford noiselessly opened the door, just wide enough to poke her head around it. “Did you buzz?” she said to the woman who lay like a darkened splash on the slanted bed. “Yes,” said the woman, tapping the translucent IV line attached to her arm. “Please get me some more of whatever this is. I can’t bear how these afternoons drag on.” “Mrs. McKennitt,” the nurse said and sighed. “I would gladly ask the doctor to increase your medication, but you will need a better reason for it. An ‘afternoon dragging on’ is not reason enough, you kno...

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Lake Small

Weekly Contest #160

Everywhere the bodies were disappearing. Bodies of water, that is: the puddles, the sloughs, the ponds. Even the great river that ran among the lakes was growing smaller. On a tiny allotment, in a gentle valley, not far from a little village, the swimmer was crying. The air was so crisp each tear shrank to a grain of salt and was borne away on the breeze. She was crying because her beloved Lake Small was about to disappear. On fair weather days, she used to swim across the lake to the big rock and bask like a turtle in the sun’s kindly warm...

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When Charlie Met Polly

Weekly Contest #159

Charlie Bemis tugged at the celluloid collar around his neck as he waited for the judge to grant him a private audience. He peered out the tiny window at the people on the dusty street of the mining town outside. A man was arriving on horseback; two others were preparing to leave. Women in bonnets and long aprons carried woven baskets as they stepped carefully around horse-droppings. “Next!” said the clerk and soon Charlie was ushered into the judge’s chambers, sparsely decorated with a 44-star flag, a map of the Idaho Territory, and a pict...

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A Long and Winding Road

Weekly Contest #158

Long and Winding Road Excerpt from the diary of Daniel Bruback, 1978 Day 1 I promised Liz to keep track of the journey, not just the destination. She’s dead set against my plan, to skip one week of haying so I can show support for workers’ rights at the conference in the city. She’s always pulling rank on me. Fourteen months older but two grades ahead in school. Dad will have to show her how to drive the tractor while I’m gone. I hugged her and Lucky and then walked to Highway 11. I got a ride from Greenstone to Geraldton within ten minu...

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Queen versus Queen

Excerpt from the diary of Cordelia Brussels, lady-in-waiting to HRH Elizabeth I Greenwich Palace, 1593 Dear 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 scheduled was “a pirate” who controls most of the western coast. “Surely you jest, Admiral,” said I. The fanfare played and she was announced: Grace O’Malley of Irela...

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Swings and Roundabouts

Weekly 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 my shiny new thousand-dollar deluxe grill enthroned on the deck that I had lovingly refurbished most of the past year while Genev...

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The Snow the Snow the Snow

Weekly 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 on as they used to do, so now it sat there as hard and cold and immutable as misery. “What on earth are you doing?” Audrey shouted,...

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Tell Me More

Weekly 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 grey bob she had worn for years. “Why are you sick and tired?” The reply from Habib, another member, floated in from cybersp...

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Retraining

Weekly 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 slows down as she rounds the curve of the highway, mindful of the bald tires that need replacing. An intermittent chirp reminds her that t...

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