Jon R. Miller

Author on Reedsy Prompts since May, 2021

Stories (16)

16 Stories

623 karma pts

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“Brief Encounters” by Jon R. Miller

Submitted to Contest #108

Tryst 1 - Vivification07.07.2456“Don’t worry, Shinji,” you said when we stepped out of Dr. Lau’s office at the Bradbury Lunar Medical Center. “They're going to find a cure, eventually. We’ll just keep skipping ahead until we get to that time.”Keep skipping ahead.You always made it sound as though it were the simplest thing in the world, Harry. Like horseback riders stopping at stations and switching out their out-of-breath steeds for fresh ones and c...

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“Yuji and the Crag Whence the Dragon Took Flight” by Jon R. Miller

Submitted to Contest #106

Yuji observes the crumpled pink pellet that was once a sticky-note and steers it from afar by drawing tight circles with his slinky forefinger, alternating clockwise and counterclockwise. He’s been willing it to float and join the eclectic swarm of papers swirling above the littered room that was once his. But it defies his wishes, preferring to twitch around apprehensively as it hovers mere centimeters above the frayed tatami mat floor. The mats haven’t been changed since he fled this house ten years ago. The tightly woven rushe...

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“Original Sin” by Jon R. Miller

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #105

11.07.2489science-vessel/Danaos[Day 378 of the Chrysalis terra-formation endeavor, pre-oxygenation phase]We're statues sculpted by apprehension and hope while we sit in the command center and wait. The planter-drones sent to the surface should be reporting in any minute now.Some of us stare down our terminals as if to bore holes in them. Other eyes fixate on the front wall-monitor where the plan...

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“Dancing for Blue” by Jon R. Miller

Submitted to Contest #104

Tasmir’s torso arced with rhythmic exuberance. Emotions sang out of his fingers as they brushed the night air. His feet were dynamos, jolting and tugging his legs every which way.With each step Tasmir’s eyes followed the face of the humanoid colossus with four arms, the one to whom he offered the dance. Humans had various names for the gargantuan being, but in this region they called him Blue after his sapphire eyes. People cowered and prayed to this tyrant as their god, for not doing so resulted in their painful deaths ...

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“You Must Comprehend” by Jon R. Miller

Submitted to Contest #103

They emanate from the top of your skull, these tingles, undulating outward like the frothy brine caressing the beach you’re standing on, moving in closer with each successive wave. Coursing down the neck and spine, the gentle deluge of intoxicating euphoria reaches the tips of your fingers and toes. Moist winds swirl all around, wrapping your body when they soar by, as if they are creating an airy mould of your figure. Your eyes gradually open. The late afternoon rays impart heat on your skin, as do the mass of sand-corns your bare soles ...

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“Mother’s Last Day” by Jon R. Miller

Submitted to Contest #103

[Content Warning: assisted suicide] Good morning, Mother. I catch myself almost whispering the greeting in my mind, furtively, like children holding their breath during hide and seek, mentally entreating the others kids not to find them. It’s as though I’m afraid she could hear what I’m thinking. She sits in her wheelchair by the open french windo...

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“The Puppeteer” by Jon R. Miller

Submitted to Contest #102

The sight of the puppet’s severed head paralyzed Sayuri Ando. The torso—a mutilated lump—lay on its back with the head teetering on its chest like a grapefruit-sized logan. Loose strands of jet-black hair bobbed in front of its alabaster face, reminiscent of a weeping willow. The dismembered appendages fanned out within a three-meter radius and reminded her of the gristly leavings of a carcass abandoned by a sated beast of prey. A gothic still life, the scene oozed ghoulish tranquility amidst the razzle-dazzle of Neo-Asuka city’s nightlif...

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“The Unread” by Jon R. Miller

Submitted to Contest #101

Losing the capacity to read crushed me. True, I no longer had to conceal my literacy, but that was hardly any consolation. Still, I didn't regret what I did. I would gladly do it again.I hobbled using my cane across the village square to the beverage stand I frequented. Only a few days ago, my eyes recognized writing everywhere. Now the images of the words fell on the retina of my eyes, but the mind no longer registered their form. I couldn’t even picture the alphabet anymore. The Arkeoni had “corrected” me, no doubt mak...

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“Positively Yours” by Jon R. Miller

Submitted to Contest #101

“I’m positive.”I paused and clarified myself. “I mean. . .I’m a positive thinker. An optimist.”It was the first day of beginner’s Japanese class. To break the ice, Kenji—our teacher—had each of us describe ourselves with one word, and he rendered the word into Japanese for us.The class fell silent as we waited for Kenji’s translation. The spring gale churned the sounds and scents of urban nightlife from the street below and rammed them through the cracked open window. I longed for one ...

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“Chasing Windmill-berries” by Jon R. Miller

Submitted to Contest #100

The onslaught of nano-pulsations intensified, threatening to puncture Florian’s closed eyelids and drumfire onto his retina. The din of static crackled around him, interrupted by low frequency booms convulsing his body and high-pitched squealing in his ears. He regretted not paying for the optional eye and ear protection. Lyle had insisted against them, calling him a spendthrift.The sensory melee abruptly stopped and warmth permeated his face. The ringing in his ears subsided, bringing to the fore the warbling of birds.<...

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“Those Who Serve” by Jon R. Miller

Submitted to Contest #100

Date:       The thirteenth sidereal unit of the Savory cycle 23,678th BranturPlace: The Great Temple of Adephagia, in the Citrea Nebula sectorThe high-back chair of pretentious design stiffened his body even more than he expected. His full dress blacks didn’t help either. Jackson Graylor, Plenipotentiary of the Benevolent Dominion of Humanity, shifted his backside in the seat, again. Longing for the command stool on his ship, he contem...

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“Terra Promissa” by Jon R. Miller

Submitted to Contest #99

Una rested her paddle across the hull of the outrigger where she sat in the stern seat; seawater dripped onto her bare knees. The waves lapped gently against the charcoal-treated boat-sides. She peered windward into the horizon. The breeze ruffling the sea soothed her face. They had paddled a good hour since Adonais, the larger of the binary stars, first peaked over the horizon. Now the serene sea shimmered purple-blue as Lycidas, the second orb, broke out from the watery surface, pursuing Adonais in its heavenly arc. Can’t beat a day...

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“Upward” by Jon R. Miller

Submitted to Contest #99

Sursum grimaced and yowled as he hauled the climbing rope with both hands, helping Eripio scale the final distance onto the lip of the cliff. His guttural vociferations echoed off the cave walls; startled glow-beetles scuttled deep inside their crevices. Sursum planted his feet firmly into an indentation in the rock and pulled with all his might. “Come on, Eripio, I won’t have you fall all the way back down home,” he said through clenched teeth. “Or else this’ll be the shortest expedition in history.” Eripio’s fingers emerged, latching on...

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“THRESHOLD” by Jon R. Miller

Submitted to Contest #98

Dyodara tilted her head and peeked out from behind the rose granite column, her raised right hand keeping the sun out of her eyes. At home by the coast, such a sight always promised a good catch. Sweet oceans! I should have brought my harpoon. Like tropical fish overcrowding a shallow lagoon, the colorfully donned courtiers, clerics, foreign dignitaries, and guild masters mourned the death of Voivode Skralar, supreme ruler of Puros—her biggest catch yet. One week ago at this very plaza she hurled a spear through his throat in the...

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“The Queen Anne Window” by Jon R. Miller

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #97

Someone had left the window dimmers off. The vermillion daylight lit up part of the parquet flooring in the shape of the bay window it shone through. I walked up to the window and gazed down blankly at cubical houses and mist-canals, much like my grandmother used to. Three mystics entered my view. Chanting soporific hymns to guide her consciousness on its ethereal flight, they sauntered, single file, like quivering bundles of indigo fabric. They marked their ritual circumambulation of our residence by flicking random streaks of phosphores...

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Author bio

(he/him) -Year of the Tiger Hello there! Will the summer never end? I'm seriously considering emigrating to Hoth.

Shortlisted 2 stories ⭐️

Contest #105
Original Sin – read story
Contest #97
The Queen Anne Window – read story