Jordan Bonn

“As I Dream” by Jordan Bonn

I slapped the parchment with the back of my hand. "I can't read this." "What do you mean?" Said the dragon-faced monkey man, scratching his scaly head with his clawed fingers. "I mean this is just chicken scratch, literal nonsense." I lifted up the map of Grinzletown directly to their face. It was a mix of a restaurant's kid's menu and the ramblings of a mad man, with towers jutting out of the bay in the shape of lamb chops from some froufrou bistro. With the buildings of Grinzletown made of w...

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“Honk Honk” by Jordan Bonn

Submitted to Contest #74

The mishapen sun, distorted in vision from the heat haze of summer, beats down on me like a hammer. From within my uniform of choice, the same I’ve worn for most of my known career, the heat intensifies. From this prison of pink polka-dots and loose cotton, I begin to feel the dampness of an untreated armpit dripping. Sweat beads down from my bald cap, a few stray hairs of my original color breaching their tight beige c...

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“Restart” by Jordan Bonn

Submitted to Contest #73

Loop One was very typical to say the least. It was something I had worked towards for years, experiencing minor events over and over again until I reached the ideal outcome. Being in possession of this device was a blessing, at least at the time. I had spent years developing the device, dying my grey streaks trying to retain any semblance of youth during my strenuous work experience. But at last, I had done it. I had cr...

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“Marigold” by Jordan Bonn

Submitted to Contest #72

I stared at the body for quite some time before realizing, indeed, it was my wife. The shock had not quite set in when I was called a day prior, held up in a Days Inn arguing with what's considered concierge over the quality of my bath towels, and told by Cecilia she died during a visit to her sister's grave. Cecilia's voice wasn't firm, it never is, and she clearly was expecting a reaction out of me as she uttered she's gone, Will. She's gone. I felt a familiar emotion, some kind of feeling gnawing at my chest where ...

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“Entry #45” by Jordan Bonn

Submitted to Contest #63

By the time I stepped outside, the leaves were on fire. The humidity hit like the neighborhood ice cream truck, the tires of which melted onto the hot asphalt even in the shade. The heat haze drifted my vision elsewhere, a near psychedelic quality to the ever changing waves in the skyline. I could barely make out what was in the distance due to the size of the sun, just barely kissing the Earth enough to make most men s...

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“Reminiscent ” by Jordan Bonn

Submitted to Contest #63

“I don’t love you anymore, Jon” he said, reaching for a Paula Red that hung off a thinning browning branch. The words themselves attacked my senses, a fight or flight response was beginning to form from that sentence alone. I felt my fingers digging into my palm, the violent feeling of blood rushing through my hands turning my skin the same color as the fruit.  After a moment of trying to process my next ...

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“Migratory ” by Jordan Bonn

Submitted to Contest #63

The cycle of migration is often one I don’t tend to find comfort in. Then again, most days I tend to find comfort in simply watching the sun hide behind the towers of grey, ever so close in the distance. And given how large our family is, it’s also safe to assume that we will always have difficulty doing so, that any greater journey will always hold strife. The same scenarios tend to play out in no particular order, but t...

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