David E. Perry
Bio
Writing gives me the power to create my own worlds. I'm in control of the universe of my design. My word is law. Would you like to know the first I ever wrote? Read Sandy:
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Stories (198)
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Evac. Top Story - December 2025.
“Your attention please. May we have your attention, please. We are currently under mandatory evacuation. Please gather all your belongings and make sure that your children are with you. The last bus to the mainland will be leaving in five minutes. If you are not on the bus at that time, there will be no further transportation out. Anybody still on the island will be required to leave on foot. It is highly recommended that you leave now. The approaching storm will not be survivable.”
By David E. Perry14 days ago in Fiction
Duck Blind
Oliver Green was the thirty-second victim of what was called Jodie Syndrome. Just like the thirty-one victims before him, he woke up in the Contagious Disease Department of Bronzeville Hospital. And, just like all the victims before him, he woke up with a splitting headache. He had no memory of his life before he opened his eyes in the hospital. He remembered his name. He remembered how to speak. But nothing that could tell him who he really was—where he was from, who his family was, what his job had been, whether he had money. It was all gone.
By David E. Perryabout a month ago in Fiction
Glow
Back in the ’20s and early ’30s, the old building on 79th Street was known as Club-79. Many of the greats played there—Duke Ellington, Louis Armstrong, and Fletcher Henderson, just to name a few. The audience often included notable people like Coco Chanel, Charlie Chaplin, Al Capone, and even Albert Einstein. If you were alive then, this was the place to be.
By David E. Perryabout a month ago in Fiction
Cold Storage
The houses on Old Tanner Drive were some of the oldest homes in the city. It seemed they really knew how to build back then. They survived the earthquake of 1922, the blizzard of 1935, and the hurricane of 1947. While these three disasters nearly decimated the town, the five houses on Old Tanner Drive remained completely unharmed—not even a shingle was lost.
By David E. Perry2 months ago in Fiction
The Private Room
It was hard saying goodbye to the old house. So many memories were tied up here. Like the time Greg placed the fake rat in the kitchen and scared Mom instead of Molly. Or when Moses dared Megan to run over his foot with her bike. He walked around with a broken foot and didn’t tell anybody until the next day. Or the time we had that huge blizzard. All of the kids climbed onto the roof from the third-story window and jumped off into the snow below. Timmy sank three feet down. We had to dig him out.
By David E. Perry2 months ago in Fiction
The True Story of Byron Baker Wolf
Let me start by saying that my name is Byron Baker Wolf. It’s not Big Bad. I hate that nickname. Look at me—do I look that big or bad to you? Think about it. I’m the smallest in my whole pack and the kindest wolf in the entire forest. Big. Bad. It doesn’t even fit me.
By David E. Perry2 months ago in Fiction
