David White
Bio
Author of six novels, twelve screenplays and numerous short scripts. Two decades as a professional writer, creating TV/radio spots for niche companies (Paul Prudhomme, Wolverine Boots) up to major corporations (Citibank, The TBS Network).
Achievements (1)
Stories (32/0)
“Something About a Toreador”
The door to the recording studio flew open with a crash. In strode Hollywood icon, YouTube influencer and mega-rich actor Slush Funned, followed by a swirling cacophony of hangers-on, distant relatives, and not-worth-their-weight-in-goldfish assistants, each trying to catch the Slusher’s ear with some detail or update significant only to them.
By David White3 years ago in Fiction
"The Wisdom of a Simpler Life"
I focused on the flowers in the flowerbox, ignoring the screaming and yelling of the young couple inside, behind the heavy sliding glass doors that separated me from them, that separated the sunbaked balcony where I sat from the minimally cooler apartment where they wrangled, that separated me and the silent flowers that were my stoic companions from the constant stream of venom and barely controlled rage leaking out from inside.
By David White3 years ago in Fiction
"Diver Dan"
The diver stepped heavily across the sea floor, littered with colorful boulders about the size of one of his booted feet. Gravity weighed him down, but it wasn’t gravity that compelled him to return again and again to the sea floor: it was the majesty of it all.
By David White3 years ago in Fiction
"Tiny's Revenge"
Bill Connally thought he’d seen it all. As warden of the largest maximum security prison in Illinois, he’d seen the worst offenders this country had imprisoned. But the worst of the worst were housed on the prison’s Death Row. These included stone-cold killers, psychotic murderers, and even a few politicians who were, naturally, shunned by the rest.
By David White3 years ago in Criminal
"Visions and Duties"
Renaud de la Folie slumped across his horse’s saddle as he rode into the Knights Templar commanderie outside the small French town of Villemoison in the central region of Burgundy. Renaud was tired, bone-weary sore from a decade of Crusades in the Holy Land, most of them failures, and the long road home. His ears still rang from the din of battle, the clash of weapon on shield, the screams of the wounded, the groans of the dying. These days, the smell of decaying flesh never seemed to leave his nostrils.
By David White3 years ago in Fiction
- Second Place in Doomsday Diary Challenge
“The ‘Vivors” Second Place in Doomsday Diary Challenge
The auction of recently gathered discoveries from the Cool Lands was in full swing. As one of only two buildings left in New Holly with power (the other being the pump house) and as it still retained three of its original four walls, the Buildhall was the gathering spot for all non-rad ‘Vivors for every sort of occasion. It had seen imploring speeches on the need for better cleanliness, and frequent requests for volunteers to man the Barricade. But this morning’s gathering was special: a group of Finders had just returned with a couple dozen scrounged rarities, none of them hot, all of them up for sale, or more likely, barter.
By David White3 years ago in Fiction
The Black Bag Job
Mickey Sullivan knew he was risking his fifth parking ticket this month by parking in front of a fire hydrant on 43rd Street, but he’d rationalized that he’d only be in the check cashing store for five minutes, tops. He ran back to his car like a rabbit chased by a pack of dogs, only to find a freshly minted parking ticket waving happily at him from underneath the passenger side windshield wiper.
By David White3 years ago in Humans