JR Lane

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Nov, 2023

Stories (4)

4 Stories

76 karma pts

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“The Old Canvas of Finn Vanderberg” by JR Lane

Submitted to Contest #231

“The Old Canvas of Finn Vanderberg”Amsterdam, NetherlandsDecember 2018Finn slumped into his chair behind the reception desk. He closed his eyes and scratched at the discolored scar on his forearm. He tapped into the internal hit of adrenaline, buried somewhere deep in his mind. He ran, ducking in and out of traffic. He tracked his prey. Not too close but, not too far either so as to lose sight, he reminded himself. A feeble voice brought Finn back to the present. Just like that, the e...

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“Mortal Reflection” by JR Lane

Submitted to Contest #228

Sirens wailed outside the two-story brick townhouse in Alexandria, Virginia. Dusk was setting, the final warmth of the sun slowly fading beyond the Potomac River. The family’s leather sofa, scuffed and stained, was pressed up against the front door. Dad’s favorite Remington Model 870 stood ready next to the door. The wooden venetian blinds were pulled shut to guard against the unknown. The family of three - dad, mom, and son - huddled around the dining table for one last meal together. A dusty black radio sat in the...

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“The Identity Gamble” by JR Lane

Submitted to Contest #225

Hunter settled into the plush, first-class seat. He looked down at his board shorts and flip flops. For once, he felt liberated. Not because he ditched the suit and tie, but because he actually was calling the shots now. He slid his hand into his laptop bag and fiddled with the small electronic device. What the hell have I done? There was no turning back now. The twin Rolls Royce engines roared and the Airbus 350 ascended skyward. He let his head melt into the headrest and replayed th...

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“Covert Exploration” by JR Lane

Submitted to Contest #224

She rolled over in the lumpy, twin-size bed. A splitting headache from the dehydration made it impossible to relax. She sat up, took another big gulp of her water bottle, and looked down at her agency-issued Tudor watch. The illuminated watch hands read 12:15 a.m. Her mind told her it was still 4:15 p.m. back in Washington, D.C. She walked over to the window and drew back the blackout curtains, exposing the warm glow of the Arabian metropolis below. Lively banter between shawarma vendors and hungry customers produce...

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Author bio

JR Lane is a pen name. I'm here to hone my craft. Thanks for reading.