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 (465)
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Guardians of Knowledge. Top Story - December 2025.
1959 The Beginning Every attendee left the meeting sporting a similar look of resolve that no one had imagined possible during the days and months leading up to this secret conclave of the world’s ultra-wealthy and powerful. The only thing these members had in common was that they were excessively rich and powerful, and they wanted more of both. This gathering had been created to devise a way for them and their descendants to codify a system that would ensure their status and power far into the distant future. After extensive debate, the plan that was agreed upon was relatively simple.
By Mark Gagnon3 months ago in Chapters
Blown Away
What I enjoy more than anything in the world is sitting on top of a nearby 300-foot-tall rock face cliff, with my feet dangling over the edge. A strong ocean gust buffets my loose-fitting jacket while it winds its way around my body on an endless journey around the globe. What draws me to this spot day after day isn’t the mesmerizing seascapes or the spectacular sunsets, it’s the birds.
By Mark Gagnon3 months ago in Fiction
The Chasm
I woke to the sound of the rain slapping against the bedroom windows. It was six in the morning, and I really had no desire to get out of bed, but my stomach began to rumble, so begrudgingly, I dragged my old carcass to a standing position. The sky and the woods around my home were misty and gray. The house’s interior looked to be cloaked in a shroud of dull light even after I had switched on the lamps. Yes, this was the kind of day that darkened one’s soul. Nothing to do, no place to go, and no one to speak with except the uncaring rain. I didn’t think this day could get more depressing, but I was wrong.
By Mark Gagnon3 months ago in Fiction
Will Anyone Remember
An article popped up on my phone today about Buddy Guy turning 89 years old. He was quoted as saying, “I’m the last old man playing the Blues.” For those of you who aren’t Blues fans, you may have never heard of Buddy so let me fill you in. He ranks right up there with Blues greats, B.B. King, Robert Johnson, John Lee Hooker, Stevie Ray Vaughan, and Etta James. I’ve had the pleasure of attending two of his performances over the years and came away smiling both times. I’m sure if you search the net for his recordings you’ll feel the same. Buddy may be my inspiration for writing this, however this is not about him.
By Mark Gagnon3 months ago in Journal
A Gravedigger’s Musings
Rich people, poor people, highly influential individuals, and those who have been ignored their entire lives, I see them all eventually. A white person is covered with the same dirt as the black person resting on his left and the yellow person resting on his right, or the brown person lying by his head and yes, even the red person by his feet. In my job, all people are truly created equal. It is also true that after the grieving relatives and well-wishing friends leave, never to be seen again, everyone left behind in the dirt is treated exactly the same, because they are.
By Mark Gagnon4 months ago in Fiction
Unchained. Honorable Mention in The Forgotten Room Challenge. Top Story - November 2025.
It was time. For thirty years, the events of the past and the room where they took place hung over my head like the dreaded pendulum in Poe’s classic tale, The Pit and the Pendulum. I always thought that the further away I got from the evil room, both in distance and time, the horrifying events which happened there would fade away into oblivion. My choices were I could continue lying to myself the way I had been for most of my adult life, or I could take a stand and repair my broken life forever. I was being ridiculous. There was only one choice: face my fears and move ahead with my life.
By Mark Gagnon4 months ago in Fiction
Perfect!
Maybe it’s just me, or possibly the fact that I enjoy writing, so by extension, I appreciate language in general, that I’m finding some of today’s catch phrases annoying. Yes, it’s true, every generation has developed its own pet phrases that seem to have unique meanings just for them. In the nineteen fifties, the terms Daddy’o and Beatnik were used quite often. So were Greasers and Socs or Kool Kids.
By Mark Gagnon4 months ago in Journal
Who is Superior?
Humans, just look at them, each involved in their own little world; oblivious to everything around them, including me. I was human once, but I’ve strengthened into something more, greater, superior to what I once was. Now I look at these creatures as a wolf looks at a rabbit, or a cheetah at a gazelle. They are nothing more than prey. My quarry has unwittingly wandered within the boundaries of my hunting grounds at the end of Canal Street. The elevated railway line casts a perpetual shadow onto the pedestrian walkway below. It obscures sunlight during the day and blocking the glow from the city’s lights at night; it’s a predator’s paradise. Now I must choose my evening’s entertainment.
By Mark Gagnon4 months ago in Horror
KNOCK ON EFFECT
Only Malcom would desire to live life in such a fastidious fashion. His clothes had to remain wrinkle free at all times, shoes reflecting a military shine, and most importantly, because he was such a picky eater, his meals had to be prepared to the utmost perfection. Only the best ingredients money could buy were good enough for him. His fussy habits angered everyone he came into contact with, and it was only a matter of time before his associates decided to exact their revenge.
By Mark Gagnon4 months ago in Fiction
Don't Bug Me
“Hey, watch where you’re walking, you big lug—I could have been killed, and it would have been your fault!” Dickson looked all around and couldn’t figure out where the voice was coming from. Besides, it really didn’t matter. He was on a job with a tight timeline, and there was no room for distractions. He raced across the darkened showroom, bypassing the display cases filled with cheap costume jewelry, and ran toward the office door. His intel had told him that’s where the safe was located. What it didn’t tell him was there were two doors, one on either end of the back wall.
By Mark Gagnon4 months ago in Criminal
