10 Short Stories to Pass the Time (Part I): 10 Short Stories to Pass the Time

By Anna Smith

Dive into these ten short stories, featuring: 

-An actor finding his dreams coming to life 

-A painter who gives up a successful career to start a business of a different kind 

-An explosion of color disrupting a quiet morning in a suburb 

And more

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ananda Foerch
• Release date: Jul 9, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201001872

Book preview

To my dad

Index

1. The Actor        5

2. The Present (History)*       14

3. Now*         21

4. Chapter One*        29

5. Day One*         32

6. Someday*         37

7. The Diner         40

8. Le Mort         46

9. The Legend of the Centaur       51

10. Domino*         54

*Stories marked with an asterisk were inspired by a Reedsy prompt, found at www.blog.reedsy.com/creative-writing-prompts.

The Actor

If Santiago had not looked up from his phone at the right exact moment, none of this would've happened.

That’s what he would think to himself, over and over again. That if he hadn’t looked up from his phone, just as she was passing by on the other side of the street, his life would’ve gone a completely different way.

That was his life though, wasn’t it? Just like if he hadn’t auditioned for StarStruck or got the bad audition for Life in 24 Hours, he could never go back in time and not look up and see her. He also could never go back in time and not shout her name, out of some weird instinct. She could never not look up, surprised by some random stranger shouting her name. Most of all, he would never be able to take back the fact that he’d run across the street to get to her.

He found himself standing on the sidewalk, confused about why he’d run across the street and worried that she might be seconds away from shouting for help. Even if she did recognize him from TV (and, let’s face it, what were the odds of that?), he was a six foot two dude. It wasn’t exactly night yet, but it was starting to fall, so he was honestly surprised that she wasn’t trying to get away as quickly as she could.

She was looking at him expectantly now, dread tucked into the corner of her eyes... but something else, too, like a knowing look.

Hey, um... he said, and he realized he was here, so he might as well ask. You’re-you’re, um, have we met before?

Smooth, man.

He was about .2 seconds away from apologizing to her and wishing her well when she spoke.

That depends, she said, and now, he was feeling a little bit nervous about what she was going to do. You called me Tallulah?

He looked at her strangely, even though he had no right to. She’d done nothing but ask for confirmation, and maybe this entire thing was weird, but something about her behavior was wrong.

I did...? he said, slowly.

She nodded. Tell me, then, does the name Mark ring a bell?

With the name Mark came remembrance of his dreams, and he actually stuttered a step back as his eyes widened.

His thought process froze, because he literally didn’t know where to start. Months back, he’d started having these really vivid dreams about being Thatcher, the character he played on StarStruck. It was like he was living his life, except there was a new character added in. A girl named Tallulah, who was being targeted by Mark for reasons Santiago couldn't name.

At first, he’d thought it was just normal. After all, Melissa’d said that she’d had dreams about being characters before, especially when a role was intense.

And then, he’d gotten stabbed by the nefarious Mark.

He remembered the incident in vivid detail: Mark, slamming the knife down into his hand, watching as the girl he’d failed to save died right in front of him. He’d carried around a sick feeling for weeks and his hand had hurt for the same amount of time.

And now, the same girl was standing in front of him.

She was probably a fan, his mind spit out, quickly trying to rationalize the situation. That was it. That’s why he recognized her, they’d probably met at a con, or something and his brain had picked her out, he’d done that before, too-

Then how had she known the name Mark? Because not even Martha knew that name.

I’ll take that as a yes, she said, after a moment, and she dug her hands into her pockets.

Because he was so flustered, he couldn’t identify the new look in her eyes, like some sort of... he didn’t know, resignation, somehow? Denial, maybe? She glanced up at him, and then looked off in the distance, letting out a small sigh, before she looked back at him, all looks wiped clean.

We should probably talk, she said to him, and she motioned for him to follow her.

She started to walk, but his frazzled mind refused to move, because it refused to believe that this was possible. He wasn’t even sure where to begin, so he stayed standing on the curb, watching as she walked further away. She probably only took three or four steps before she stopped and turned back.

You coming?

His brain finally decided to move, and he followed after the woman he’d seen die four times in his nightmares.

*****

They walked for a maybe a minute or two before she entered a diner. After her initial look back to see if he was following, she hadn’t looked back. Something about the way she was acting was off, but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was; that aside, this whole damn thing was off.

The diner was something out of an American TV show he’d once seen when Thompson’d had the