The Weekly Knob, an online publication, has chosen “Feuds,” a short story by Eric Beversluis, as one of the two winning stories in its first story competition. Each week The Weekly Knob sets a household item as a prompt and…
Category: Short Stories
One Grate Task
Challenged to write something involving a cheese grater, our author finds art imitating life, creating existential tension. 4 minute read.
Murder at the Roadhouse
Junior Watson was good-looking. Not movie-star-Humphry-Bogart good looking but GQ Magazine-fashion-model good-looking. He was pleased with his looks. No. He was proud of his looks. Narcissus had nothing on him. It wasn’t just his face. He was blessed with…
Dog Day
My daughter overslept. Happens to all of us. “Can you walk Pudding?” “What’s in it for me?” I tease her. “Karma.” “Does that come in chocolate?” From the other room, Pudding hears me pick up my boot and is instantly…
Chef Nathan
Chef Nathan and Evil King Paprika the First A Children’s Story (That Adults Might Like Too) Dedicated to Nathan, Natalie, Cathy and David, remembering Astor Avenue and Germany Once upon a time many years ago, in 1973, there was…
Ain’t Over Till It’s Over
[Sept. 22, 2016. I’ve been working on this story for a while. It seemed appropriate to publish it on the anniversary of Yogi Berra’s death.] The voice from the next booth, in the elegant Sur le Pont d’Avignon, belonged to…
The Walk Around the Pool
You’re not sure this is a good idea. But, guided by your girlfriend Lorrie’s soft hand in yours, you feel your way into the pool area. You know everyone will stare at your bandaged eyes. The first thing you smell…
Too Old to Scream
Marcella wanted to scream. Two years ago she would have. But she was twelve now. It wouldn’t do at all. So she didn’t. She knew it had been a dream. She was in the kitchen, about to open the pantry…
The Lost Boy
“Kyle! Kyle!” Harriet fought through the woods, her frantic course like something dictated by a crazy pinball machine. She gasped for breath; her body ill-prepared for these demands. She wished the world wasn’t so dim, so blurred, so far away.…
Threads of Time
The house was always quite bare. Like most buildings in Rattlesnake Gulch, it was rough-sawn and unpainted. The only decorations in the parlor were an Indian rug on the wall and a faded photograph of Mama. Today, it was…