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.
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Stories (451)
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In today’s tumultuous world, it’s no surprise there is a greater disconnect among generations than in any other period of history. One probable reason for the animosity between age group is that people are living longer. The older generation, in this case Boomers, have increased the average life span from late fifties and mid-sixties to the mid-seventies through early eighties. Gen-Y or Millennials have an excellent shot at making it to one hundred.
By Mark Gagnon3 years ago in Humans
Use the Back Door
When I was a kid, it was standard practice to always use the back door. The front door was for visitors. The only time a child used the front door was if an adult accompanied them. Well, I’m an adult, so why are my instructions telling me to enter through the back door?
By Mark Gagnon3 years ago in Horror
Under Pressure
The USS Hawaii, a fast attack nuclear submarine, finished replenishing supplies at the naval base in Yokosuka, Japan. Once underway, they would prowl the Pacific in search of threats to the US and its allies for the next three months. All 15 officers and 113 enlisted personnel reported for duty; the order was given to cast off, and the ship was soon underway.
By Mark Gagnon3 years ago in Fiction
A Fish Tale
Doris would tell her friends whenever they asked how she was doing, “I have four loves in my life: Harold, may he rest in peace; Kathy, my beautiful daughter; this solarium; and my saltwater aquarium. I miss Harold, but I still have the other three, so I’m doing just fine." She was content with where life had placed her, and at seventy-six, contentment was really all she could ask for.
By Mark Gagnon3 years ago in Fiction
Perspective
An elderly gentleman casually strolled around the perimeter of the gallery, admiring the paintings. He would stop in front of each one, read the placard describing who the artist was, the year it was painted, and the title of the work. There were very few people visiting the gallery on a weekday morning, so he could take as long as he wanted, drinking in each one’s unique beauty. The only distractions came from a passing guard striding by on his rounds or a docent asking if he needed any help. Each painting portrayed a different scene, but used the ocean as a backdrop.
By Mark Gagnon3 years ago in Longevity
Nowhere to Hide
“Now, that’s something you don’t see every day,” Greg said to the group of kayakers. He was referring to a large houseboat that had somehow broken free from its moorings, floated down the river from who knows where, and run aground on an outcropping of rocks.
By Mark Gagnon3 years ago in Criminal
Life's Rhythms
We are all born with a natural rhythm. It controls our actions and thoughts from birth until death. I know this sounds like an oversimplification because everyone seems so different. Some people may sing like a nightingale or croak like a frog. Others move like they are walking on air while the rest of us dance as though we are wearing cement shoes. No matter where our talents lie, the beat is in us all. Let me explain.
By Mark Gagnon3 years ago in Beat
The Next Chapter
Chapter 1 Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. I was looking forward to spending time on Earth after a 3-year deployment on Sentinel-4, a large rock orbiting Proxima Centauri. Our mission there was simple. We were to observe all galactic anomalies, collect samples from neighboring planets and asteroids, and, of course, search for intelligent life. We were never sure if the last directive was meant as a joke, since no one in all of our outposts and colonies had ever come across other forms of life.
By Mark Gagnon3 years ago in Fiction
Family Ties
We found a locked metal box in the basement of my grandmother’s house. I’m sure grandma probably forgot it was even there. Neither of us had ever seen this box before, which was strange since she took pride in displaying her extensive collection of random items throughout her house. Why did grandma keep this locked box hidden away in the basement? We had no clue. There were so many questions, but unfortunately, she was no longer around to answer them.
By Mark Gagnon3 years ago in Horror
The Jokes on You
Even as a young boy, Oscar was always pulling pranks on his peers. This desire to place other people in embarrassing situations may have developed because of his name. His parents named him after a distant relative, not the Muppet character. Unfortunately for Oscar, the other kids only knew the name from Sesame Street.
By Mark Gagnon3 years ago in Humans
Watchers
We've all seen them, perched on high wires or rooftops, staring at the world below. Crows congregate in small groups, and when one departs the murder, another quickly takes its place. Have you ever asked yourself what they are looking for and who they are reporting their observations to?
By Mark Gagnon3 years ago in Futurism
Derailed
A gentle rocking motion coupled with the rhythmic clickity-clack sound that filled the air made it difficult for me to wake from what I presumed was a deep sleep. One would assume that returning from my near catatonic state, I would be well-rested and full of energy, but that was not the case. I felt groggy and listless and my head pounded with a dull pain. Summoning all my energy, I forced my eyes open to take in the surroundings. None of it looked familiar.
By Mark Gagnon3 years ago in Fiction
