
Anthony Stauffer
Bio
Husband, Father, Technician, US Navy Veteran, Aspiring Writer
After 3 Decades of Writing, It's All Starting to Come Together
Use this link, Profile Table of Contents, to access my stories.
Use this link, Prime: The Novel, to access my novel.
Stories (100)
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Becoming
The pain was exquisite and excruciating. Lying down on the dirt of the lakeshore, the twigs and branches poked the skin of his back and legs. He could feel each and every prick of twigs as the white lightning of heat and pain surged through his body like a tidal wave. He craned his neck, trying to scream, but the sound caught in his throat as a moth caught in the web of a spider in the ruddy yellow light of a porch lamp. His fear erupted like a volcano and began to break through the dense mesh of semierotic pain, his eyes widened and bulged from his skull, and his back arched as solid as a stone bridge over country stream. The instant atrophy in his legs lit their muscles into a white, hot, fiery fury. His toes pointed down so strenuously that he thought his ankles would shatter like clay pots striking the floor, and his arms stiffened as though he was being drawn and quartered. The stars above shown through the pine needles above and the white-rimmed, unfocused sight of his eyes.
By Anthony Stauffer4 years ago in Fiction
Basic Residential Plumbing Repair
When the typical homeowner thinks about their kitchen sink, or their bathroom sinks, the first thought is usually about the items stored underneath it. The typical finds are cleaners, spare sponges, a lonely bucket, so on and so forth. Nothing else is thought of until something goes wrong… the dreaded clogged sink. The average cost of unclogging a sink, in the United States, according to thumbtack.com, is between $130 and $180! What if I told you that YOU, yes you, could repair that clog for nothing more than a few tools and a little bit of time? That’s right, YOU can fix it! Whether it’s a single sink with the basic drain, or a double sink with a garbage disposal, even a bathroom sink with a stopper attachment, you can fix it. And I’m here to tell you how.
By Anthony Stauffer4 years ago in Education
Life Writes Us, So We Write Life
I remember it like it was yesterday, an early morning in mid-September of 1988, the beginning of my 7th grade year. The Sun was bright coming over the trees, and the air was warm and inviting. I walked to the end of my driveway, a convenient pickup spot for the bus to school, and my neighbor, Jen, was sitting next to our mailbox nose-deep in a book. Reading was one of things I liked doing the least when I was that age, and I snickered to myself when I saw her. But something tickled my brain, and a couple of minutes of standing there in silence, I decided to ask her what she was reading. Without looking up from the novel, she told me that it was “The Two Towers”, the second book of “The Lord of the Rings” by J R R Tolkien. My curiosity piqued further, I asked her to describe the scene that she was currently engrossed in.
By Anthony Stauffer4 years ago in Humans
The Choice
Alex stepped out onto the back patio and took a deep breath of the chilly November evening. It was the night he had been waiting for, and the night he was dreading. He let out sigh, visible in the chill as a large puff of white mist, and he reached into his flannel shirt pocket for his pack of cigarettes. After 12 years of no smoking, the last few months found him back in the habit. Luckily, this would be his last one. He looked towards the westering Sun, it’s heatless light illuminating the growing frost on the grass and leafless branches of the surrounding trees.
By Anthony Stauffer4 years ago in Fiction
Remembering 9/11
Those of us who are old enough to remember have our stories about 9/11, and we have all read or heard countless recollections. It is a time we will never forget, when the heart of our nation came under attack by radical Islamists and the price was thousands of lives lost and millions of lives changed… forever. This is my story. I was a Second Class Petty Officer in the United States Navy, serving aboard the Nimitz-class aircraft carrier, USS George Washington. After twenty years, I can say with a certainty that I cannot recall every little detail of the 24 hours I’m about to write of, but the feelings I experienced in those hours will be with me, will haunt me, to the end of my days.
By Anthony Stauffer4 years ago in Serve
Carter Phillips
“How many lives I’ve lived is something I do not know. But I’ve lived every type of life there is in this world, and I finally find myself getting weary. Two thousand years it’s been since my wanderings began, and were the truth ever to be revealed, there could be no doubt that I have shaped the destiny of mankind.”
By Anthony Stauffer4 years ago in Fiction
The Execution of Nat Turner
Nat Turner was a born slave from Southampton County, Virginia. Born in October of 1800, he was a devoutly religious and highly intelligent individual. The rebellion he led in August of 1831 was violent and gory, and led to the deaths of nearly five dozen whites in the county. The following is a work of fiction but based on the known facts of Turner’s life and death. No offense is intended to you, the reader, for anything that may be deemed insensitive or inappropriate.
By Anthony Stauffer4 years ago in Fiction
Friend Or Foe
It had only been about three hours, but to Herman, it felt like a lifetime. The pungent aroma of the mildew-laden boards beneath him made him restless and forced him to check his rifle over once more to ensure it was ready. Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, his body’s insistence that the October air was not as cold as his visible breath led on. He had been given orders to find all officers and take them out as quickly as possible. Colonel Wilck had been strong in his assurances that the enemy advance would break without officer leadership. Herman, however, knew better; he didn’t make Master Sergeant in three years without knowing the enemy. But he took his place in the bell tower, orders in hand, and waited.
By Anthony Stauffer4 years ago in Serve
Beth
“Come on feel the noi-oise… Girls rock your boy-oys… We’ll get wild, wild, wild… Wild, wild, wild! YEAHHHH!!!” Quiet Riot blared through Camp Rellik, counselors and campers dancing around the bonfire at the Grove in the center of camp. Gary sat with his friends on the edge of Lake Ninword, drinking beer and smoking a cigarette. Neither substance was allowed on grounds of the camp, but this was Party Night and the counselors turned a blind eye. This was the best night of the summer three years running. Camp Rellik was run by recent high school graduates who weren’t quite college material, but somehow the owners and the parents thought that they were trustworthy. And so the party raged on, out here in the middle of nowhere.
By Anthony Stauffer4 years ago in Fiction
Fear
Paul woke up to his alarm bleary-eyed and feeling unready for the day. But it was Tuesday, his favorite day of the week. He never understood why that was so, yet the realization quickly pushed away his body’s refusal to wake up. Like clockwork, he brewed his coffee in the Keurig and began his methodical morning routine. The toothpaste seemed extra minty on Tuesdays, Paul just couldn't help but smile. He put on his suit, finished his coffee, grabbed a fresh blueberry danish off the counter, and gave Rufus, his cat, a goodbye pet as he walked out of the door of his modest apartment. Humming to himself, he made his way to the parking lot and got into his car, the sky was bright and sunny this morning. The drive to work was uneventful, as usual, and as he found a space in the parking garage, he nearly rammed a black sedan head-on going after the same spot. The woman in the sedan threw her hands up in apology, put her car in reverse, and gave him the spot. Pulling his car into the spot, Paul jammed on his breaks again, certain that the figure of a person dressed in white had been standing there. But the space was empty. Paul shrugged it off, parked his car, and went about his day.
By Anthony Stauffer4 years ago in Fiction











