J L Jones

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Mar, 2022

Stories (10)

10 Stories

189 karma pts

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“Anywhere But Here” by J L Jones

Submitted to Contest #168

*CONTAINS SENSITIVE CONTENT - DEATH OF LOVED ONES* Grace had no idea where her end destination would be. She just needed to get away. Get away from the whispers. Away from the pitiful looks. Away from this place. She bought a ticket at the station for the next departing train. She didn’t even remember where it was headed. She didn’t really care as long as it was anywhere but here. As she leaned her forehead against the cool glass of the window, she scanned the landscape of the town she had called home for the past seven years. She coul...

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“The Fall of Mr. Baxter” by J L Jones

Submitted to Contest #165

CONTENT WARNING: Death“This is all my fault” a single tear slid down Lana’s flushed cheek. “It was me. I did it. I am so sorry…” She trailed off, tears now dropping like heavy raindrops, sobs racking her chest.Tori had no idea what Lana was doing. She knew Lana couldn’t be to blame, so why was she insisting on pointing the finger at herself? Tori gazed at her, confused, but Lana didn’t notice. They were together all weekend. It would have been impossible for her to have anything to do with this. Besides the fact that it simply wasn’t in Lana...

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“A Walk With Grief” by J L Jones

Submitted to Contest #160

It was the whistle of the kettle that pulled me from my reverie. Dazed, I looked around, searching for clues to bring me back to the present. Once I came to, the realization left me all at once lonely and sad. The whistling continued. I shook the feelings away, turned off the burner, and poured the steaming water into our favorite mugs, each holding a bag of chamomile tea and a touch of honey. I carried the two mugs to the spare room we set up for my mother’s hospice care. She lay there, sleeping, as I expected. She couldn’t drink the te...

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“The Road From Resentment To Contentment Is Not Paved” by J L Jones

Submitted to Contest #158

I did it. I crossed the line. The line I said I’d never cross. The line I’d vowed never to cross. I would like to say that he doesn’t deserve it - the lies, the betrayal, the disrespect - but I can’t. His constant belittling has earned it all. That’s what happens when resentment enters a relationship. It starts as a normal cell, minding its own business, and then a little bit of poison slips in and turns that poor cell into cancer. A little more poison, a little more cancer. Before you know it, the cancer has multiplied, raging and out o...

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“It's All Good” by J L Jones

Submitted to Contest #155

As a young mother, there were days when I couldn’t wait for my girls to grow up. I couldn’t wait for cries to become words. For diapers to become underpants. For their constant dependence on me to become self-sufficiency. Funny that as time passes and all those things come to fruition, all a mother wants is to go back to the days when those trying early years are the only ones in front of us. My girls, Elisabeth and Hanna, are now 29 and 28, respectively. Both live within 30 minutes of me, and I am so grateful. Time with them now is as imp...

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“The Black Out” by J L Jones

Submitted to Contest #149

*CONTAINS POTENTIALLY SENSITIVE CONTENT - MENTAL HEALTH AND IMPLIED VIOLENCE*The light over the kitchen sink has been flickering sporadically for the past two hours, a storm brewing outside, teasing the electricity lines into the house. I have a flashlight on the table next to me and candles ready to be lit nearby. My phone is charging in case the power is out for days versus hours.I have a love-hate relationship with thunderstorms. I love to watch the lightning light up the sky, each bolt a brilliant flash like blinking neon. I appreciate t...

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“These Walls Can Talk” by J L Jones

Submitted to Contest #148

I suppose I should have seen it coming. My occupants steadily left their spaces one by one a while ago now, leaving me empty and very alone. My hollow insides long for something to fill the void, something to breathe life into these old lungs. I am one of the last buildings left standing. I have watched several others in the area disappear over the last year or so. I didn’t understand why I felt increasingly anxious with every explosion and subsequent cloud of dust, smoke, and debris. But as each building succumbed to the blasts, my anxiet...

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“Every Breath You Take” by J L Jones

Submitted to Contest #147

HIM: Everyone has filed out of the theater now except the two of us. The credits are still rolling, and I try to look as though I am invested in reading each name as it scrolls up the screen in case she turns and sees me. She is dabbing at her eyes again. She did this frequently throughout the movie though it wasn't especially sad or by any means what one would consider a tear-jerker. I can't help but watch her, though I feel as if I am stealing a private moment from her, one that is clearly filled with emotion. I wonder what it is that is...

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“That Damn T-shirt” by J L Jones

Submitted to Contest #145

* CONTAINS LANGUAGE “What the…,” I muttered as I walked into my apartment, scanning the space. I had just returned from my usual Saturday brunch and shopping date with my sister and saw immediately that something wasn’t right. I walked around noting the missing items; the toaster and coffee maker from the kitchen, the table and chairs from the dining area, a chair, two end tables, and a framed Van Gogh print from the living room, and the TV from the bedroom. Not to mention half the contents of the bedroom closet and dresser, as well as his...

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“What Do You See?” by J L Jones

Submitted to Contest #143

"This is the perfect kind of day, my favorite," I said to myself, looking out the kitchen window. Our backyard, green and lush, with fresh cut grass and full of beautiful spring blooms, was part of my view. The rest, a bright blue sunny sky dotted with large, white fluffy clouds. Cumulus clouds, if I recall correctly from middle school Earth Science. I was never much for science; I was an artsy girl, a creative. I loved music and art, even fancied myself a poet for a spell. I loved to lay on my back, searching cloudy skies for those shaped...

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