19 Jan 2018 – Oldest Friend

Scott Summers365 Stories, General Fiction

People like to say that the two of us were made for one another, but I’m not sure that’s true.  Scope had lived a full life before I took him home, off doing God knows what with God knows who.  Of course, I had my fun as well, running up mountains and across rivers off into the northern wilderness.  I think Scope would’ve enjoyed that, though we’re both too old to make good progress these days. My knees aren’t what they used to be, and Scope’s hips have been worn through over a lifetime of hard work.  I say “doing … Read More

18 Jan 2018 – Old School Tunes

Scott Summers365 Stories, General Fiction

Jason threw his bag in the overhead compartment and himself into the seat.  His fingers flicked over his smartphone screen while he slapped the headphones onto his ear with the other.  Then, at last, he pulled his hoodie over his head, pushed his sunglasses over his eyes, and set the crown of his head on the chair back. Uncomfortable. He shifted.  It was a sixteen hour flight to London, and the plane was fully booked.  Jason rustled around his seat, agitated.  He’d finally settled in when a hand tapped against his shoulder. Opening his eyes, Jason focused on the older … Read More

17 Jan 2018 – Nest

Scott Summers365 Stories, General Fiction

I always prune the trees in early spring.  It’s the perfect time of year for it.  The boughs are still bare, and the midday heat thaws the ice and snow well before the first leaves sprout.  Those are good days to be outside.  The trees show their age about that time, and the oldest limbs sag from the weight of the months-long snow.  I trim those — the old, the worn, the broken — so that newer branches can have their day. It’s in one of those fallen limbs that I find an empty nest.  There’s not much to it, … Read More

15 Jan 2018 – Galaxy

Scott Summers365 Stories, 50 Word Stories, General Fiction

She had no words for the color of the night sky, when the cold air sharpened the stars to crystalline clarity.  They twinkled down at us from the galaxy above, bright and uncaring. I knew words for the shape of that beauty, but I had none to describe her own.

14 Jan 2018 – New Shoes

Scott Summers365 Stories, General Fiction

The shoes came by post inside a box stuffed inside another box, those cardboard walls covered with corporate logos and shipping labels.  Derek tore through the packaging tape with a knife and pulled the unworn leather into the open air.  The scent wafted into his nose, and  Derek let it linger a moment before he kicked off his old shoes.  Then, he set his new shoes on the floor and stuffed his feet inside them. He’d been saving all summer for these.  A little each paycheck, like his parents said.  It made all those nights bagging beer and chips for … Read More

13 Jan 2018 – Lens

Scott Summers365 Stories, General Fiction

Annie saw the world through an open window and a Minolta viewfinder, riding down I-10 from Tucson toward the East Coast and freedom.  The wind whipped loose strands of her hair into the frame until she tied it back, but every picture to El Paso would one day remind her to bring extra hair ties the next time they hit the road. They.  Herself, of course, and Thomas.  A duo.  A pair.  A couple?  No.  Not a couple.  Not yet, anyway.  Probably never, though Thomas thought otherwise. Click.  Click.  Click.  Down the highway.  She snapped the shutter-release for the sunrise … Read More

12 Jan 2018 – Escape

Scott Summers365 Stories, General Fiction

Bess always wanted something more than a house with a white-picketed fence.  She was more interested in trains and planes than dolls and houses.  Gerod knew that better than anyone.  They were always together, down by the train tracks or roaming the hills in search of a good view. “Which way do you think the tracks run?” Bess asked. “What do you mean?” She pointed.  “Are they coming or going?” The question didn’t make any sense to Gerod, who shrugged. “I’m going to get out of here someday,” Bess told him. say.  She said it proudly, as though it were … Read More

11 Jan 2018 – Vixen

Scott Summers365 Stories, General Fiction

My daughter is nine when she first sees the fox.  It prowls through stalks of sage and lavender, leaving little more than a rustle in its wake.  When she asks, I say that it is a vixen, a female, and she gapes through the windowpane at the slender body slinking through the underbrush. “I want to be a fox,” she proclaims. She immediately runs toward the door, but I catch her before she can frighten away her newfound friend. “Stay inside,” I say.  “You’ll scare it off if you go out there.” I expect an argument, but she perks up.  … Read More

10 Jan 2018 – Hot Air

Scott Summers365 Stories, General Fiction

As a hiker, Mira was no stranger to high vistas and sweeping views.  She’d earned those rewards with aching knees and sore feet.  But this . . .  this felt like cheating. Tommy cued the burners and sent another breath of fire into the balloon overhead.  They climbed.  Around them, the wicker basket rocked and groaned.  Below, the ground shrank a little more. “Well,” Tommy said.  “What do you think?  Pretty great, huh?” “It’s nice,” she lied. It wasn’t a bad first date.  Most girls would be impressed — or terrified. “I love it,” Tommy said. It told Mira everything … Read More

8 Jan 2018 – Viva Saigon!

Scott Summers365 Stories, General Fiction

It was nothing special.  That’s not what you’d say about my grandfather’s home — just a small cabin in the woods with little more than a bed, a bookshelf, and an old cook stove that looked like it belonged in a museum somewhere.  It was spare, but my grandfather liked it that way.  Said it reminded him of ‘Nam, and I believed him.  We both knew he’d left a piece of his soul over there. There were other things, too, but they felt misplaced.  Red drapes hung over the windows.  An old ball cap, hooked on a laundry rack above … Read More