Mark Gagnon
Bio
My life has been spent traveling here and abroad. Now it's time to write.
I have three published books: Mitigating Circumstances, Short Stories for Open Minds, and Short Stories from an Untethered Mind. Unmitigated Greed is do out soon.
Achievements (1)
Stories (457)
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Revenge Best Served Cold
The attendants were so busy tossing corpses into the crematorium’s furnace that the idea that one body was missing never crossed their collective minds. I stayed low while keeping the attendants in view. What was keeping me in that hell hole of a place wasn’t that the doors were guarded, it was how was a naked man supposed to go roaming around outside unnoticed. The only ones with clothes were the employees, and I was trying to avoid them.
By Mark Gagnonabout a year ago in Horror
Cold
Damn, it’s cold in here! I’ve never felt this cold in all my life. I did come close once when walking across a lake and the ice gave way. The freezing water soaking through every stich of clothing causing me to gasp as all the air rushed from my lungs. Ironically, it was those same saturated clothes coupled with the frigid air that saved my life. I placed my jacket arms and mittens with my hands in them on the ice and they quickly froze to the lake surface. Now I had the leverage needed to pull myself out of the water. Ice crystals immediately formed over my entire body. Fortunately, another ice fisherman saw the whole event and helped me back to a warm campfire.
By Mark Gagnonabout a year ago in Horror
Attempted Prisonbreak
The sky was pitch black. Only a hint of starlight tried to illuminate the surrounding landscape. A determined wind drove the bitter cold through the tightly woven fabric of our clothing and into our shivering skin. This was no night to be out even if it was necessary. It was obvious that others felt the same way since the parking lot was almost empty. The building was a large brick edifice, multi-floors high and stretched over a block in length. It was intimidating. A place I wanted to spend as little time in as possible. Unfortunately, I wasn’t given a choice.
By Mark Gagnonabout a year ago in Journal
And Then There Was One
It was that time of year again. The eleven of us joined together for our annual reunion party. This gathering had been happening for one hundred and fifty-four years. We didn’t all join the party at the same time. The founding members got together for the first time in 1870. One of us had been around for over two thousand years, but there was never anyone to join with back then. My three oldest friends joined me at different months of that year. What bonded us back then and continues to hold us together today is that we represent the core values people believe in.
By Mark Gagnonabout a year ago in Journal
2050
I feel utterly useless. There is no longer anything for me to do. I'm the type of person who likes working with their hands and likes feeling as though I've finished something. All those things people did that offered a sense of accomplishment are gone now. Manual work is all done by machines. People just occupy space. Sure, there is work for scientists, programmers, or inventors, but not for the average person who likes working with their hands. Humans have been made redundant. It wasn't always like this.
By Mark Gagnonabout a year ago in Futurism
Wanderer. Top Story - November 2024.
Some people have told me that I’m this way because I was born under a wandering star. Others say my name, Cain, has cursed me to roam the Earth just as the first person that bore this name was. I’m not sure if one theory or the other is right. Maybe they are both right, but probably neither one is correct. I am more like a magnet that hasn’t been able to find that special piece of metal to attach myself to. I’m searching for that unique attraction that doesn’t seem to exist, no matter where I look, and it probably never will. So, I continue to wander.
By Mark Gagnonabout a year ago in Fiction
Winner, Winner Chicken Dinner
Everyone knows who rules this roost, it’s Foghorn Leghorn of course. He’s up before the sun every morning, flies to the chicken coop roof, and announces the beginning of every new day. His voice was so strong it resonated throughout the dell. Most of the residents relied on Foghorn’s powerful crowing to roust them out of bed. Sure, there were other roosters in the dell but none with the crowing power of Foghorn. He truly did rule the roost.
By Mark Gagnonabout a year ago in Fiction
Where’s The Beef?
Maggie and her brides’ maids could barely contain their enthusiasm. The wedding was six days away and it was time to enjoy one last fling before Maggie transformed into a married woman by uttering those life changing words, “I do.” That was in the future. Tonight was time for one final outing as a single lady with her friends. She had no idea where they were going and what to expect as everything had been planned by her friends. All she knew was it was time to get the party started.
By Mark Gagnonabout a year ago in Fiction
Memories of Home
The church hall was always pristine, the people gathering there for a free meal were anything but. They patiently shuffled along from station to station, trays in hand collecting a warm meal. The woman in front of Jack tripped on the partially detached sole of her shoe and fell to the floor. Immediately, Jack reached to help her up and saw her face for the first time.
By Mark Gagnonabout a year ago in Fiction
Departure from Solitude. Top Story - November 2024.
Fourteen months have passed since humanity cast me adrift. My waking hours are divided between tending to the equipment that keeps me alive, roaming the lunar landscape, and staring into space. Living on a massive rock that lacks atmosphere offers me a vista that no other living human has experienced. Of course, I’m not alive according to those in control of the government that abandoned me. All of us living on Moon Base Alpha were reported killed by an asteroid strike to avoid the cost of returning the two remaining explorer’s home. It was a lie they told to everyone who would listen, but it was only one of hundreds of lies the population was fed.
By Mark Gagnonabout a year ago in Fiction
Solitude
I wake up already knowing that today will be the same as the day before and the day before that and so on for as far back as I can remember. My life is a never-ending string of days filled with sameness. Even the landscape stays frozen in place, offering me nothing but consistency to view. I’ve known people who long for peace and quiet, but to them I say, be careful what you wish for.
By Mark Gagnonabout a year ago in Fiction
