Scott Christenson
Bio
Born and raised in Milwaukee WI, living in Hong Kong. Hoping to share some of my experiences w short story & non-fiction writing. Have a few shortlisted on Reedsy:
https://blog.reedsy.com/creative-writing-prompts/author/scott-christenson/
Stories (95/0)
A Tingle in Time
The night is alive and full of promise. I walk toward the quay and the crowds. Something will happen tonight that will pull my life toward its destiny. With a sense of destiny, feeling the tingle of the chill breeze, I watch the people stroll past, knowing they are part of this special moment. My aunt had schizophrenia, does it feel like this? She often came to our door at 3am with 'messages'. Am I her? I should go home until this feeling goes away. On the way, just in case, I keep my eyes open for anyone special.
By Scott Christenson12 months ago in Fiction
Final Descent to Anchorage
As the plane approached 10,000 feet, Beth hung up the phone call from her husband mid-conversation. He mentioned he had something important to say, but whatever it was, it would have to wait. Nothing, not even a death in the family, could interfere with FAA regulations to maintain a sterile cockpit below 10,000 feet.
By Scott Christensonabout a year ago in Fiction
Stiff Competition
The secret word today for the airline crew is “stiff”. The challenge is to use the secret word with a steady voice over the PA as many times as possible, despite the entire crew knowing its lewd meaning. The winner gets free drinks tonight at the airline's hotel.
By Scott Christensonabout a year ago in Fiction
Amber
If walls could talk Amber Harbridge wouldn’t be lying dead on my carpet. Even if I had vocal cords underneath my Benjamin Moore 1960's Mustard Yellow exterior, I don’t think I could have not talked Jake out of his crime of passion or convinced Amber not to tell Jake she needed to break up with him to focus on her marriage. Amber was too honest and straightforward of a person.
By Scott Christensonabout a year ago in Fiction
Specialist Rank
The outside world was unknown to her, but she could see a glimpse of it through the window in his room. I can see her trembling. Not from the apocalyptic world outside the window, but from sitting in front of the Colonel. The man who court-martialed two of our classmates and sent them outside to their deaths.
By Scott Christensonabout a year ago in Fiction