Noah Glenn
Bio
Many make light of the gaps in the conversations of older married couples, but sometimes those places are filled with… From The Boy, The Duck, and The Goose
Achievements (1)
Stories (68/0)
Ciaran and the Peninsula of Plenty
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley, and there weren’t always trolls on the Peninsula. Ciaran sat on a round, flat stone flipping a golden coin. His favorite sitting stone sat at the southern tip of the Peninsula of Plenty, at the point two rivers, Troll Brook and Mink Creek, met the ocean. The sun was setting over the ocean to his right. As he looked out at the ocean south of his favorite rock on the cliff, the oranges, pinks, and purples were shimmering off the gold coin flipping through the air. As Ciaran flipped the coin another time, a shadow blocked out the beautiful sunlight. A gray-skinned troll with brown vest and pants had come up on Ciaran, trying to catch him unaware. Its short dagger and menacing smile would have intimidated many normal humans, and other than a coin-shaped birthmark on his left shoulder, Ciaran was a normal human. However, his life had been affected by trolls before, and his birthmark lent him an extraordinary skill. As he caught the coin, he flipped it much higher in the air. The troll could not help but follow the coin with its eyes. Ciaran pulled a second coin from his pocket and threw it, striking the troll between its two eyes that were still focusing up at the coin. The coin hit the troll with such force that it killed him. Ciaran deftly caught the coin that was falling from the sky and went to retrieve the other one. Casting one last cold look at the corpse, he walked out of the clearing and back into Larchcorn Forest.
By Noah Glenn3 years ago in Fiction
Bartlett and Anjou
At the heart of the forest, there was a circle of cornstalks. Each stalk was fifteen feet tall. At the center of the circle was a pear tree stretching forty feet in the air. The mystical place was a blessing to any who found it. The ears of corn were two feet in length, delicious, and regrew every month. The pear tree had the most sumptuous fruit to be found. Even more interesting was stumbling upon a deer in the area that had been eating the corn or pears. Each whitetail deer that consumed the fruit was nearly twice the regular size.
By Noah Glenn3 years ago in Fiction
What Kind of Laundry Person Are You?
What kind of laundry person are you? Do you usually only get one sock in the laundry basket? Is your shirt almost always inside out when it gets washed? Are you upset if your shirt wasn’t inside out when it got put into the wash? Do you put your shirt and undershirt in the laundry bin while they are somehow still stuck together? Or do you just wear the same seven shirts each week? My wife says I am usually all of these rolled into one. Recently, we had our first child. Now the socks are smaller and easier to lose. The little shirts that are inside out usually have poop on them from a blowout. And it feels like he wears all twenty-seven shirts he has in only three days.
By Noah Glenn3 years ago in Fiction
Trichotillomania
“Trichotillomania is commonly referred to as hair-pulling disorder,” the psychiatrist said, looking over her glasses at me. Without thinking, I had begun to pick at the beard hairs on my chin, pulling them out one by one. I should have shaved this morning. The hairs would have been harder to pull and therefore less of a draw to my subconscious during this consultation.
By Noah Glenn3 years ago in Fiction
A Paperweight and Corporate Espionage
Accountants, like me, are usually known for being boring. I suppose people that know me would say I fit the mold. I do have a pretty exciting story though. I have been at my job for three months now, and I just used my 5,000th staple. I had to go to the supply closet and get a new box of staples. In other words, I work as a paper pusher, and I push a lot of paper. Almost always, it is stapled together. I admit my job is not always difficult. I can do it while having a Walter Mitty type daydream, while some of my co-workers binge watch a show and enter their data. It is mindless stuff here, but it pays the bills.
By Noah Glenn3 years ago in Fiction
Most Eighty-Five Year Old Grandmas
Most eighty-five year olds plant marigolds around their garden to ward off rabbits. Grandma used her twenty-two. She lived on the edge of town and seemed to get away with it. A widow of almost fifty years, she preferred if the grand kids came over and pulled the trigger. Then afterwards, she was able to have a conversation and ward off loneliness for a time.
By Noah Glenn3 years ago in Fiction
The Old Man and the Manuscript
Josh put down The Old Man and the Sea on the coffee table, reliving the shark and The Old Man’s big catch. Josh’s boat rose with another wave. The sounds and sights were idyllic. The white wisps of clouds were high in the sky and the horizon was sea in all directions. He didn’t actually use his fishing boat to fish. Instead, he trekked far away from the coast and heavy boat traffic to find peace.
By Noah Glenn3 years ago in Fiction
What You Leave When You Move
His hand brushed across the top of the shelf, his feet on tiptoes, and his nose itching with dust. Slowly his hand moved along the whole shelf, catching a box wrapped in brown paper at the end. “Honey, the old owners of this house left us something!”
By Noah Glenn3 years ago in Fiction
A Bucket of Water and a Birthday Party
The little boy and his mother ran with buckets from downspout to downspout trying to catch as much water as they possibly could. There had been fifteen days over ninety degrees in the month of June, and July and August were usually warmer. On top of the heat, they had received almost no rain. The poor family depended on their garden for food, and the garden was struggling.
By Noah Glenn3 years ago in Fiction
They Say
They say he drank six days a week, but he couldn't drink on Sundays because his mother once asked him how he would know what day it was. They also say he is usually shaking by Monday morning. They say life is unfair sometimes. They say some people get what they deserve.
By Noah Glenn3 years ago in Fiction
Do Not Eat the Corn
I remember the view from this spot before it all began. There was a rainbow touching down at the top of the hill, which was covered in green grass and overlooked a creek, long dry by now. On the other side of the creek were fields of corn, green and luscious. Then the rain tapered off to almost nothing. Tornadoes and high winds further dried out the land. The population was a fraction of what it once was.
By Noah Glenn3 years ago in Fiction