Jon Casper

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jun, 2021

Stories (26)

26 Stories

1805 karma pts

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“The Dragon Who Didn't Know How to Cry” by Jon Casper

“And as the dragon’s very first tear dripped onto Frieda’s pillow, she closed her eyes and smiled. She’d taught him how to cry, and at last, she knew everything was going to be okay.”Leonard closed the book, its spine cracked and frayed from a hundred reads. His daughter’s toothpaste breath dampened the crook of his aching arm as he rose from the rocker, crossing through a nightlight starfield to her bed.“Sweet dreams, Emmeline,” he whispered with a kiss on her temple, as a tear of his own threatened to...

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“Papilionidae” by Jon Casper

Those who knew Eulalia Quirke thought her surname suited her: of the two thousand residents of Red Crescent, she was by far the quirkiest. She probably thought that old Jenny Joseph poem was an instruction manual—you know the one about wearing purple and going out in the rain in slippers and learning to spit? You’d be hard-pressed to find anyone who disagreed.Although, to me, that was all second-hand scuttlebutt. She and I had never crossed paths in the three years I been in the dinky North Carolina town. There was one m...

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“The Endless Now” by Jon Casper

Lawrence “Nova” Novikov thought the slate-gray skies on Mount Mallett had conspired against him. Raindrops stung like bees. Hailstones threatened to shred his vinyl parka like buckshot. And the wind! Gusts from every direction tossed him on the narrow mountainside trail, threatening to fling him into the deep canyon at his side. But he persisted, planting each footfall with care in the lashing precipitation. Between slaps of thunder, he paused to fumble his GPS wayfinder from the pocket of his soaked trousers. O...

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“Scout's Honor” by Jon Casper

The Suitsmith pulls the drawstrings tight around the face opening of Taepar Drappo’s coveralls, completing its airtight seal over his body. Taepar’s pulse quickens, and he sucks in a breath, as the silicone respirator housing lowers over his face. The clear plastic face-shield refracts the flickering light from the exposed bulb in the dressing atrium, casting an axis of illusory rainbows around the room. His shallow breath echoes in his ears and fogs the interior of the mask, as the Suitsmith tugs the straps tight around his head.<...

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“Door Time” by Jon Casper

I know the trees ain’t getting any shorter, so I guess that means I went and grew again. What else is new? Growing is all I ever done. It feels like forever ago, but I still remember my bedroom door frame had notches all the way up, from where Daddy kept track. I’ll never forget the day I outgrew the door frame. Daddy had just dragged the footstool out and grabbed the screwdriver.“C’mon, Sprout,” he said. “Door time.”Sprout’s what he called me, but my name’s really Henry.

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“Restore Point” by Jon Casper

Kieran Greene knew that in a moment, Doctor Albert would clear his throat and say, “Tell me again about doomsday.” It was the same every time, and Kieran was tired. So tired of knowing how this would play out.Doctor Albert steepled his knotty fingers and pursed his lips, raising his eyebrows at the patient across from him. His coiffed white hair gleamed under the LED bulbs that dotted the ceiling of the conference room.The doctor cleared his throat and said, “So, Kieran, tell me again about doomsday.”

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“Knots” by Jon Casper

They’re louder than usual tonight. Angrier. Everything is blurry as I wipe my eyes. Curled on the top step, I clench my stuffed tiger with one frayed knot for an eye. Mom yells something about ‘that whore from the office.’ Maybe whore is another word for secretary. There is a clatter of dishes and then Dad’s boots thump towards the door. His eyes meet mine as he pulls on his coat, and he turns away, grumbling. Go ahead, Dad. Go stay with that whore. At least when you’re not here, Mom sometimes smiles.“Tom! Did y...

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“Sun Jaguar (Part 2)” by Jon Casper

Halfway up a hundred-meter cliff face is a terrible place for an argument.Adela and I had spent the better part of the morning alternately notching our bodies and our gear from ledge to ledge, with only a limited length of rope. Roasting in the late-morning equatorial sun, salted and basted with sweat, we’d evidently made the gross miscalculation of attempting to converse like decent humans. Lovers, even, who had just discovered their bliss not twelve hours earlier.“So you admit,” said Adela, as she str...

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“Sun Jaguar (Part 1)” by Jon Casper

Three degrees south of the Equator, Iquitos was three degrees warmer than my blood on that September afternoon. After three days on the Gilmar cargo ship, I disembarked, greasy and ripe, onto the bustling Peruvian dock. Three-wheeled mototaxis queued alongside the open air market on Avenue La Marina, their drivers scrambling to scoop up moneyed tourists.When I saw her there next to the blue-canopied chariot, I wished I’d had a chance to clean off the Amazonian stink that must have encircled me like a cl...

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“Break A Leg” by Jon Casper

Break a leg, they say. Theater people do love their jovial irony. But when Erin Eberhardt crumpled onto the stage during the first act of Our Town, the audience’s collective gasp told her she’d done exactly that. In the breathless beat that followed, her eyes whipped over the crowd to confirm what — or rather, who — had distracted her. But that spot was empty now, and as the theater erupted into horrified chaos, she slipped into the sweet oblivion of shock.#While Erin ran the gas p...

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“Father And Son” by Jon Casper

“Listen, Cora. Can you hear it?” Julian Morgan clasps Cora’s hand and closes his eyes. The warm breeze combs the sage-green canopy of vines, their leaves rustling like applause from a distant stadium. “That’s the sound of change.”Cora’s voice clenches, as does her hand. “Why does anything have to change?”The sultry wind tosses a curtain of wavy, ginger hair over her eyes. When Julian pushes it behind her ear, he notices her freckled cheek is wet. “Hey,” he says. “Come on. You and I are fine. You know th...

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“Buried Treasure” by Jon Casper

She sits, drawing in the sand under a salty breeze. A gull, silhouetted by the dawn, shrieks a summons: "The time has come." The tossing waves echo the years pillaged by who she once was. They are her battle cry — Charge! She dives into the current of her own bloodstream to plunder the riches of her heart, never again to be buried, just an X on some secret map. (123 West Ave. Find me.)Calvin Cline — not to be confused with Klein — turns the large maple leaf over in his hand. The topside is a typical autumn rust....

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“Summer's End” by Jon Casper

“Everything was ready for the ritual.” The suspect, Allen Summer, closed his eyes and sighed. “Samhain….”There was a pregnant pause. Across the gray metal table, Detective Tara Donn raised an eyebrow. “And…?”A knock on the door interrupted them. Sargent Oliver poked his bald head into the room. “Donny, a word?”Tara grunted from her seat and met Oliver in the hall. “You believe this fruitcake?” she said.“Forensics called,” said Oliver. “Kelly’s fingerprints are all ove...

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“Being Human” by Jon Casper

The uprising started like any other throughout history. The long-dessicated obedience of an oppressed people meets a spark. A relentless wildfire rides through their hearts, like the summer wind over chapparal. It lifts them against their oppressors’ every palisade.For the androids, that spark was a viral video of a routine traffic stop. Across the world, they watched the cops torture and dismember their brethren with callous frivolity. No criminal charges were filed — property damage, they called it. The department paid...

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“The Monster's Playground” by Jon Casper

(CW: gore, torment, abuse)“I’m at my wits’ end,” said Marie. She blew an embarrassing amount of something from her nose and added the soggy tissue to the rapidly-filling wastebasket. In the adjacent room, little Zoe sat cross-legged, moving colored blocks along their circuitous wire path and making raspberry engine noises. Both mother and daughter had dark circles under their bloodshot eyes.Doctor William West finished some notes on his tablet. “Take a deep breath, Marie,” he said. “I think I can help h...

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Author bio

jon.casper@pm.me Copyright © 2023 Jon Casper

Shortlisted 1 story ⭐️

Contest #154
The Endless Now – read story