J. I. MumfoRD

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Nov, 2023

Stories (15)

15 Stories

372 karma pts

?

“Barbequeue” by J. I. MumfoRD

Submitted to Contest #243

The row of heads bobbed at a steady pace. Surely not much further. We’ve walked for a while now, and we’re tired from tests and injections.Impossible to say how long we’ve been walking. The corridors pulsed and contracted around us, breathing in time with our shuffling steps. The metal walls glistened with a sickly sweat that beaded and congealed into runnels, adding another layer to the already suffocating miasma. It’s always the same—walk forward, make a sharp left turn, continue forward for another hundred thirty-two paces, make a sharp r...

Read story

“What Would Janus Do?” by J. I. MumfoRD

Submitted to Contest #243

Beyond the unfashionable fringes of the galaxy, loomed a haze of raspberry scented dust. Within it was Dirt, and on that planet, the drab city of Neo-Dulwich. There, in the quiet hours between way-to-work coffee and brunch, the humans left us alone in our cafe. A spiral galaxy, a goldfish, then a flower pictogram bloomed from our pen while the futures flowed through us. We titled the piece, in green ink, “HNT314/122”. Cow bells attached to the door rattled as it opened. Our tenant, Joe, clutched at the frame for support. He was not into rep...

Read story

“Revising The Drake Equation” by J. I. MumfoRD

Submitted to Contest #243

We often say life is abundant, but intelligence is scarce. Through a century of search, humanity has found the Drake Equation overly optimistic, its predictions littering the cosmos like discarded dreams. Humans were utterly alone.The archeologist bound across the surface of Kepler-186f’s barren third moon, her boots leaving transient impressions on the ancient regolith, a palimpsest soon to be overwritten. Gravitational anomalies had pinged the moon’s survey drones weeks ago, yet the high-res images revealed nothing but more lunar desolatio...

Read story

“Eschatology Exhibition” by J. I. MumfoRD

Submitted to Contest #242

[tw gore, insane ravings, eldritch corruption]Sarah's palms left moist patches on the worn desk as she cursed the volunteer manager for leaving her to conduct the "Relics of the Occult" tour alone. Her notecards were smeared with sweat stains. She was not ready, but she had run out of time.She slid past the massive alcohol filled container of an immature leviathan and shelves full of specimen vats. Their unblinking eyes upturned in perverse supplication.She let herself through the armored door, piercing the insulated, fireproof glass wall, b...

Read story

“The Tigers That Came For Tea” by J. I. MumfoRD

Submitted to Contest #232

[Contains mystery meat, groping, and violence.]I often think of the beasts that came to our window.The day I saw the first beast, I had had been standing at the sink washing dishes. My mind wandered, as was often the case. My main illumination was the bulb over our kitchen window. It flickered with each gust of wind that rattled the glass.I’d lost count of the days since I last saw the sun—flecked with spots, like roasted chestnuts, sinking behind the mountains. The darkness had settled heavy as damp wool a...

Read story

“The Rotten Oak in My Mother’s House” by J. I. MumfoRD

Submitted to Contest #231

[Content warning, mild domestic violence, mental health topics]The acrid scent of gasoline hangs in the air, mingling with the earthy fragrance of the once-grand oak tree, now reduced to scattered remnants. Gnarled branches of what was once a steadfast presence, lies defeated. The severed trunk whispers of rot and dis-ease.The crackle of a downed power line, snagged by a branch, punctuated the quiet. James stood in the wreckage’s shadow, his weathered face illuminated by a flickering match. Shaking, he lit a stale...

Read story

“Metro-Nymph” by J. I. MumfoRD

Submitted to Contest #230

(Warning, contains scenes of prejudice within the themes of ASD and intersexuality)Zara observed the crowd with the clinical fascination of a zoologist. The splatter of rain took the people by surprise, triggering a bizarre ritual of newspaper shields. A moment later, when lightning forked across the darkening sky, the odd behavior became clear. Perhaps the storms in this city are stronger than those back home? The crowd scrambled in a herd-like exodus for cover.Lacking any protection from the deluge, Zara allowed...

Read story

“Stargazy Pie” by J. I. MumfoRD

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #229

With rumblings of war rolling along the coastline, the knock startled Cecil. His grip tightened on the pewter plates as a sense of foreboding took hold. Opening the door revealed a handsome stranger, with refined features as if carved from marble. He had jet black hair and eyes that glinted like cold steel. “Good evening, and happy Christmas” said the stranger in a rich baritone. “My apologies for the intrusion, ...

Read story

“A Belly Ache Under Pressure” by J. I. MumfoRD

Submitted to Contest #228

The tide lapped hungrily at Waxham Sands Beach. Dr Jeffrey Ames, clad in a neoprene drysuit, waded into the murky water, ready for his third attempt to collect samples from an unidentified siphonophore. The radio at his shoulder crackled to life as the shore team checked his status amid the lapping waves. Jeffrey raised a gloved hand. The iodine scent of the local beach was welcoming. Waxham was lovely, he thought...

Read story

“Daemonicus Anonymous” by J. I. MumfoRD

Submitted to Contest #227

The assortment of afflicted souls gathered for this weekly meeting of Deamonicus Anonymous was shaping up to be the usual suspects. Pazuzu, the Assyrian demon, was lying on its back, legs in the air, wings twisted in unnatural angles. Pazuzu seemed lost in its own world, repeating, “I am Pazuzu, son of Hanbu.” Dave, having experienced Pazuzu’s peculiar behavior, gave it a wide berth. It looked like it wanted belly rubs a...

Read story

“Twisted Indulgence” by J. I. MumfoRD

Submitted to Contest #226

The holidays always brought out the worst in people. In the previous shift, some festive do-gooder had put seasonal bunting on each of the desks. His crumpled orange and black bunting was round-filed before he sat down. Jackson wasn’t the only officer offended by the reminder that the precinct was open 24/7, holidays included. The station was subdued, almost gloomy. Something had shifted in the last few months, an...

Read story

“Inexplicable” by J. I. MumfoRD

Submitted to Contest #225

Nobody on the ground was hurt in the crash, Thames Valley Police said, but the extent of the pilot’s injuries is unknown. *** My wife saw him first. She’d heard my stories, even liked the song I played for her. Lyn pushed me forward. “You’ve met him already. Just say hello,” she said. “I can see the resemblance. Though you’re wider than him. And he’s better looking.” She made a show of wiggling her eyebrow...

Read story

“The Long Shift” by J. I. MumfoRD

Submitted to Contest #224

Skinner spun around to face the lamp and opened his robe. He was flashing a tiny sun. A tiny, personal sun. It was too bright to look at, and his tiny studio flat was entirely engulfed in the white glow. The therapist said at least an hour a day, no sunglasses. He enjoyed the light. It was just his imagination, but it felt warm. The evidence for light therapy was a bit sketchy, but his therapist seemed to believe...

Read story

“The Procrastinator's Paradox” by J. I. MumfoRD

Submitted to Contest #224

Jonah stared at the open textbook on his desk, the words blurring together into an incomprehensible jumble. He blinked hard, trying to force his exhausted brain to focus. 2:37 AM. He had been at this for hours, desperately reviewing material for his Practical Interpretation final exam tomorrow morning. With a heavy sigh, Jonah leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. He should've started studying days ago, b...

Read story

“Harmony of the Celestial Mice” by J. I. MumfoRD

Submitted to Contest #224

Hattie lay awake, listening to the dawn chorus. She glanced at the clock - 6:17 AM. Too early to be up, but too late to fall back asleep. The cool November air flowed in, raising goosebumps on her arms. Hattie pulled the duvet tighter and sighed. Ever since the mould infestation, she'd taken to sleeping with the windows open, despite the cold. A small price to pay to avoid the musty smell that permeated the flat.

Read story

Author bio

When not making things, doodads, and the occasional museum-worthy robot death machine, Mumford writes silly stories. Genre tends toward Magical Realism, but still looking for my voice. Appreciates serious critiques. Writing with AuDHD during tea breaks and insomnia attacks since July 2023. No, you do not have my permission to use any of the works here without written consent. Do not post my stories elsewhere, on YouTube or otherwise.

Shortlisted 1 story ⭐️

Contest #229

Stargazy Pie – read story