Jango MyHeart

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jan, 2021

Stories (7)

7 Stories

112 karma pts

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“Not All Who Wander Are Lost (Part III)” by Jango MyHeart

Submitted to Contest #272

In front of Maya’s Den shop, a new-age, medieval apothecary shop, Marion paces back and forth agitatedly, flipping her phone over constantly to check the time, as she tries to steady herself on the uneven slabs and cracked pavement. Looming over her are the clouds getting greyer by the second and the rain storm intensifying. The water spills from the overhang, splattering onto the auburn cobblestone. As she checks her phone, her foot catches an edge, causing her to tumble to the ground. Feeling overcome, she remains on the ground, lacking th...

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“No All Who Wander Are Lost (Part II)” by Jango MyHeart

Submitted to Contest #271

(Story contains themes of mental health and suicide/self harm)The white sage and frankincense heady aroma invades the tiny walk-in closet space, singeing Marion and Ava’s nostrils, suffocating their breathing and fueling their headaches. The room feels even smaller by the oppressive oversized velvety purple and bohemian-psychedelic style tapestry draped loosely on the wall, casting shadows that whisper of impending doom, a chilling reminder of the terrors of their past lives, revealed by Maya, their psychic whom they just met upon stumbling ...

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“Big Sky ” by Jango MyHeart

Submitted to Contest #270

The light stream from the sun, filled with red and pink hues from the Ojai sunset, casts a warm glow over my body. Blinding me and my phone slightly, I respond to one of my client’s emails from the consultant firm who is panicking over my analysis of their set-aside money for potential loss. My mom is feverishly stirring and mixing her homemade marinara sauce with the corkscrew pasta filled up to the brim, and splattering the sauce everywhere as she is taste-testing. She throws in some rectangular pieces of black forest deli ham, sloppi...

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“Cora and Harley” by Jango MyHeart

Submitted to Contest #176

Cora peers into the narrow alleyway, spotting the tabby cat in a rough and tumble with a sphynx cat, as they bite into each other, growling. The sphynx cat then successfully pins down the tabby cat and lets out a long hiss before forcing its right paw on the cat’s head . A bright white light along with stardusts soon erupts from the focal point of their contact, blinding the alleyway into oblivion. The white light and stardust begin to dissipate. Cora squints her eyes, trying to make out what’s happening. She sees the tabby cat’s lifeless bo...

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“The Seeds of Time” by Jango MyHeart

Submitted to Contest #175

Like the passion flower that only blooms for a short while, our love appears to be like the stars that form into a giant mass, only to combust and die shortly after exhausting itself. Like all the sweet peas, marigolds, sunflowers, and other common perennial flowers that bloom in the summer, we are like the shrubs themselves that return and become renewed every year, maybe with better well-being, brilliance and coloring. Some flowers, like the passion flower, may never bloom again, but their seeds lay dormant in the soil, with their roots bo...

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“Not All Who Wander Are Lost” by Jango MyHeart

Submitted to Contest #171

Marion is sitting in her mid-century aqua armchair in a five-hundred-square-feet warmly-lit room, drenched in cold sweat, feeling this heavy dread inside of her. It feels like there is this impending doom perforating every atom in the room, making the air oppressive and difficult to breathe in. Marion is directly facing this plush cognac colored velvet loveseat, with a walnut colored side table next to it. On it, there is a mug with an image of a black and shiny majestic Friesian horse galloping, with long and curly manes, powerful shoulders...

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“Remembrance ” by Jango MyHeart

Submitted to Contest #169

It isn’t raining nor is there an impending thunderstorm looming. The Talisman Grove is in the midst of a dry Indian Summer with no threat of rainfalls or thunderstorms coming any time soon. Yet at night, the asphalt, concrete, brick and stone pavements alike begin oozing microscopic bubbles of moisture, seeping through its pores with almost like an oil type substance. Fog uncharacteristically gathers on empty, abandoned streets hovering close above surface level every night since summer has started in June. What’s even more peculiar, at the ...

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Author bio

Aspiring novelist and short-story writer. My genre of writing is mostly contemporary literary fiction, focusing on complex relationships, self-discovery and psychology. I attempt to employ a mix of psychological realism, magical realism, and existential surrealism. I am a naturalist who enjoys weaving in aspects of the natural world, and using evocative lyricism.