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 (467)
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Hello My Old Friend
Hello Darkness, It still amazes me how our relationship has developed over the years. When we first met, you terrified me. I was just a child and didn’t understand how you could exist everywhere I went, and everyplace I looked. You slept under my bed. You hid in closets patiently waiting for me to open the door. When I closed my eyes, I saw you. When I awoke from a bad dream, you wrapped yourself around me. I tried to convince my parents that you were bad and they needed to protect me from you. Instead of offering me solace, they sent me back to my room, where you waited for me uncomplainingly.
By Mark Gagnon3 years ago in Horror
The Trail
Harry is a creature of habit. He rises every morning at 6 a.m. without the aid of an alarm clock, even on his days off. He eats toast and strawberry jam for breakfast and is ready to start the day by 7 a.m. It was probably this strict adherence to schedules that earned him a divorce. Yes, even his daughter, who had once worshiped him, drifted away out of frustration over his inflexibility. Harry knew his lack of imagination and spontaneity put people off. It didn’t matter. Routines and schedules were predictable, dependable, and above all, safe. He wasn’t about to drift away from that security.
By Mark Gagnon3 years ago in Motivation
The Devil’s Herd
It didn’t take long for Zack to realize he was in way over his head. Petty Larceny was his forte. Shoplifting, purse snatching, and breaking into a car or two kept him in spending cash and put food in his stomach. It wasn’t a noble life, but he got by—until now.
By Mark Gagnon3 years ago in Fiction
On Another Planet
My name is Ashton Throckmorton, IV. All my chums at the Yale Club call me Ash. I made my money the old-fashioned way—I inherited it from my daddy, which is exactly how he came by his money. My great, great grandfather started the family business, and my great-grandfather grew it into the money mill it is today. Now it’s up to me to enjoy the profits—a tough job, but someone has to do it.
By Mark Gagnon3 years ago in Humans
Marooned. Top Story - June 2023.
The digital sign read, ACCIDENT AHEAD. ROAD CLOSED. FOLLOW DETOUR, and that’s what I did, or thought I was doing. I-25 between Las Cruces and Albuquerque is the personification of desolate nothingness. Becoming lost should have been impossible. The word impossible only applies to a task until someone accomplishes that task and, unfortunately, that someone was me. There were sparsely placed detour signs right up to where the road forked. Then it was driver’s choice. Waze was useless because there was no cell service. I chose the right fork, which was definitely wrong.
By Mark Gagnon3 years ago in Journal
Amish Grand Prix
It’s my privilege to report on this first-ever Amish Grand Prix to take place in Pennsylvania Dutch Country since the area was founded. People have come from all over the region to watch this unique challenge of horse, man, and buggy. Television crews line the course, eager to capture the perfect shot as buggies and drivers clip-clop past their position. Amish children curiously weave in and out of the crowd to get a better view of the TV cameras.
By Mark Gagnon3 years ago in Humor
Family Legend
My twelve-year-old grandson and I were re-organizing the garage when he came across a sealed clear plastic container. The only item inside was a rusty old can with a dent in it. The can was unopened and had a faded label. He took the can out of the plastic box, held it up to the light, and shook it a few times, searching for a reason to keep it.
By Mark Gagnon3 years ago in History
Stagecoach Whip
It isn’t a simple job or a clean one. The hours are impossibly long, and rest is only granted when each leg of the trip is finished. Danger can spring from behind an outcropping of rocks, or from a fellow traveler. The weather is both friend and foe depending on the day. Even the very ground can shift underfoot. Only a fool would choose a job like this, so a fool is what I must be because driving a stagecoach is the only job I’ve ever wanted.
By Mark Gagnon3 years ago in History
My Final Heist
It all started with brownies, advanced to copying test answers, then moved to stealing from thieves. I have built a storied career taking from others and becoming wealthy. Renowned museums have offered bounties for my capture. Unscrupulous antiquities collectors have paid massive sums for my stolen booty. Throughout my illustrious career, there has only been one precious item I’ve never acquired. I’ve come close several times but lost out to others. Once again, fate has presented me with an opportunity to obtain what has always eluded me. I must not fail, as this will be my final heist.
By Mark Gagnon3 years ago in Fiction
Heisted Heist
After graduation, most of my class either went to college or joined the military. I got a job selling costume jewelry at a local flea market. Rings, bracelets, necklaces and earrings were popular items. The owner of the booth was highly skilled at crafting these items. Many designs were copied from high end shops. These trinkets looked amazing but contained no valuable gems.
By Mark Gagnon3 years ago in Fiction
Dry Scrubbing 1821
My name is Thomas Jennings, a lifelong free New York City resident and proud owner of one of the busiest tailor shops in Manhattan. In the late 1700s, I began a long apprenticeship that taught me the skills needed to excel in this essential craft. I’m well known throughout the elite of this city for my custom-fitted suits, shirts, and casual clothing. My little shop on Church Street is thriving. Fortunately for my clients, I’m also a curious person who enjoys solving problems.
By Mark Gagnon3 years ago in History
April 1775
The Barn Owl Inn was a popular location on the main road between Boston, Lexington, Concord, and Worcester. There was never a shortage of guests, regardless of the weather. Roadside inns and taverns like the Barn Owl were family-owned businesses which meant everyone in the family was required to help in order to make it work.
By Mark Gagnon3 years ago in History
