Bernard Bleske
Bio
Let's see what happens...
Achievements (1)
Stories (8/0)
Homecoming
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. As they waited in the barren hall of the station, Papi put his hand on Evan’s shoulder. Despite Evan’s age they were nearly the same height. “Different from last time, hmm?” his grandfather said.
By Bernard Bleske8 months ago in Fiction
First World Problems
The American passenger said angrily into his phone, ‘Within the blasted marmalade!’ Fahad glanced in the mirror, appraising the man for a sense of the words. What was he speaking of with such emotion? Why would an orange jam deserve such anger? The passenger was well-dressed for the heat, a businessman clearly, though his shirt was unbuttoned at the neck and the tie dangled drunkenly. Dark hair, closely cut, a Movado at his wrist, wedding ring.
By Bernard Bleskeabout a year ago in Fiction
Florida
A week before Florida opened, Chuck called a Sunday Meeting. His palms were sweaty. The den was still mostly empty, though one of the little cliques had carved out a claim to the old wraparound couch and settled in territorially. He turned the Wall off.
By Bernard Bleskeabout a year ago in Fiction
- V+ Fiction Award Winner
Path of Least ResistanceV+ Fiction Award Winner
In the morning, I took the little stone with me into the living room, where Keith was on the sofa, watching television. At the time, Keith and I lived in a downtown two bedroom, under the constant press of traffic, working factory and service jobs to pay the rent and buy the beer and all that lazy nothingness. A couple of college dropouts waiting for something to happen to us.
By Bernard Bleskeabout a year ago in Fiction
Rise
His brother was already outside the gates, and he hauled himself into Rob’s new F350 without comment. Weed wackers and edgers and and 22 bags of mulch were stacked in the bed; Glen didn’t say anything about that either. Nor any remark on the name on the side of the truck. He just took the Bud Rob handed him and drained it and dropped the can on the clean mat at his feet.
By Bernard Bleske2 years ago in Fiction
