Judith Jerdé

“Why Can’t I Remember What I Forgot?” by Judith Jerdé

London, England—September 4, 1992 at 5:01 pm—the birth of Terence Lovelace Jr.*********************The cityscape was unfolding beyond the window as lights appeared against the backdrop of the approaching sundown.I awoke suddenly, hungry, and crying, swaddled in my mother's arms.There was a light at a tunnel’s end, and I had struggled through a rush of water to reach it.Gloved hands pulled me naked and exhaustedinto a cold, sterile room with bright lights that hurt my eyes. Everything around me was out of focus, but I instinctively whaled bef...

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“Mother Nature’s Calling Card; Is It Already too Late?” by Judith Jerdé

Reference to political views and character’s negative views of mainstream religion.******************The late June evening started like any other after a hot, humid summer day in Minnesota. I arrived home from work later than usual and parked in the driveway.Since severe weather wasn't in the forecast, it would allow a quick getaway for work in the morning.Something drew my attention to the pond across the street, and I stopped for a few minutes to gaze at it. I often thought of the p...

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“Cuckoo.” by Judith Jerdé

Language Alert:He turned into the gated driveway of the Canfield Estate on Gurnsey Hollow Road. It felt good to be home from yet another of his treasure hunts.The house was empty, or so it appeared. Even though every light was on and the front door stood open. It was that feeling of emptiness that always prevailed in the old three-story structure.The faded and peeling paint on the exterior of the early nineteen-hundreds Victorian mansion was nothing compared to the interior, ...

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“A Scotch and Lies.” by Judith Jerdé

Submitted to Contest #219

Language Alert, references to nonconsensual Sex:Sinjin Rice is getting married; she picked cattails by the lake this morning for her bouquets.After wrapping the stems in burlap ribbon, she wove crystals into the fabric from an Art Deco chandelier she found in an antique shop.She is breathtaking, wearing a vintage-inspired wedding gown of Chantilly Lace she saw in the window of the little shop on Grand Street. Long curls with golden highlights flow down her back. ...

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“The Dark Side of The Door.” by Judith Jerdé

Submitted to Contest #218

Swearing and sensitive sexual subject matter.********************There was only darkness on the other side of the door and my fingers felt instinctively for a light switch on a wall just inside the doorway. Panic racked my body because I sensed beforehand that the light would not work no matter how much I flipped the switch on and off.It was a few months ago that I awoke before dawn from a nightmare that shook me to the core and was the impetus for a journey that for me was ten years in the making.

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“Lemonade, Witchcraft and Mr. Jones.” by Judith Jerdé

Submitted to Contest #217

A soft voice from behind me asked,“Will you be there tonight, Miss Livingston?”I turned abruptly to face a taller-than-average man with wavy dark hair in a longer style; some might think of it as shaggy.It curled around his ears and the collar of his jacket. We had bumped into each other several times since he moved into the East Wind Condominiums.But it took a minute for me to respond to Mr. Ian Jones’ question.“Umm… Yes, I received your ...

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“The Sound of Raining Leaves” by Judith Jerdé

Submitted to Contest #216

The mountain air was crisp and still, and Autumn had painted a most colorful picture frame around the cabin while they slept.Mattie Duval walked Ginny Clarkson a friend from grade school to her Auntie Sookie’s car. The musky sweet fragrance of fallen leaves hung in the air around them.Soon the sun peeked through the clearing, illuminating the golden leaves in a sizable grove of Ginkgo trees nearby. The Ginkgo’s leaves fell silently like a steady rain shower in the morning mist. ...

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“Sandpaper Kisses.” by Judith Jerdé

Submitted to Contest #211

Language alert- swearing.My favorite dreams are those where I’m flying. They give me a sense of control and are exhilarating but tend to be in short fragments, and before long, the dream’s landscape has shifted, and it moves off in an alternate direction. Let me preface this next part by saying I am only thirty-one, but sadly the older I get, the less I experience them. There’s a message in there somewhere. Could it be that as we age, we feel less freedom from the constraints of life, and with that comes an ac...

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“Mommy, Where Did I Come From?” by Judith Jerdé

Submitted to Contest #210

The car sped across the George and Cynthia Mitchell Memorial Causeway. The view of the Gulf of Mexico was obscured by a foggy drizzle, but from the car’s window, she could see palm trees waving ever so slightly in the humid September breeze.The narrow causeway is the only connection between Galveston andthe Texas mainland. The car merged onto the Gulf Highway amid the early afternoon rush hour traffic.The young physician, a specialist in her field on thethe state-of-the-art biohazardous an...

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