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Lyndon Jones

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Nov, 2021

Stories (8)

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8 Stories

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Torn Pages

Lyndon Jones

Submitted to Contest #310

Every Wednesday night, they met in the backroom of Dahlia's Bookstore.The soft clink of teacups, the rustle of pages, the forced laughter—like any other neighborhood book club. But beneath the polite smiles and literary chatter, a story was dying to be told.And tonight, Elizabeth intended to read it out loud.Elizabeth White, age 42, was the founder and leader of the Thursday Pages, a book club she’d created ten years ago. They had started with Pride and Prejudice, then Beloved, then The Bell Jar, and now—perhaps fittingly—The Count of Monte ...

6 likes

Recipe: EPIC CHARACTER

Lyndon Jones

Preparation Time: A lifetimeCooking Time: Depends on the darkness of the timesDifficulty: LegendaryWarning: May cause rebellion, redemption, or revolution.Consume with courage.INGREDIENTSBase:1 humble origin (preferably tragic or impoverished)3 tbsp curiosity, unrefined1 broken family or surrogate guardian (optional but recommended)A pinch of childhood wonder (diminishes over time)Core Character Mix:2 cups burning desire½ cup naïveté1 whole secret they’ll only discover in Act II1 flawed belief or fatal flaw (must be human-grade, not godlike)...

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LAST OF THE WEST

Lyndon Jones

Submitted to Contest #306

FADE IN:EXT. MONKEY STONE – NIGHTA sea of stars hangs above the jungle like forgotten gods. Lanterns rise from a torchlit clearing, drifting skyward like fireflies on pilgrimage. Hundreds of humanoid monkeys, fur in hues of brown, gold, and silver, gather around an enormous stone slab cracked with age and myth — the Monkey Stone.The jungle hums with sound: laughter, bickering, the rhythmic beat of drums. Warriors shadowbox. Some sharpen weapons. Others whisper of omens and old battles.MONKEY 1 (grinning, punching a palm) I’m not worried.MONK...

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Full Support

Lyndon Jones

[April 10th - 4:00 PM]Dear Journal,Let me just say this: my parents are obnoxiously good at parenting.Like, sickeningly sweet, Instagram-perfect, "we-still-slow-dance-in-the-kitchen" kind of good. And it’s driving me crazy. Not in a "they’re mean" way. No. That would be a little easier. They're the type of people who ask for a hug when I yell at them.Case in point? This morning.I rolled out of bed late (as usual), hair looking like I’d wrestled a raccoon in my sleep, and what do I find on the kitchen table? A warm croissant, my favorite rasp...

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Little Moments

Lyndon Jones

Emily and Jack had always lived their lives at full speed. They were high-powered professionals, each day a blur of meetings, deadlines, and urgent emails. Their love for each other was strong, but often, it was overshadowed by the relentless pace of their lives. They promised each other they would find time to slow down, but it never seemed to happen—until one serendipitous weekend. It was a crisp autumn afternoon when Emily suggested a spontaneous getaway to the countryside. Jack, who had been feeling the weight of his latest project, agre...

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Took The Time

Lyndon Jones

Eva Oddling was the youngest and only member of her family to not have a supernatural gift. Every Oddling had awakened their own gifts by the time they turned twelve. Sara Oddling, the eldest child, had the gift of Mental Peering. She could discern others' intentions with startling clarity, making secrets all but impossible to hide from her. Thomas Oddling, the second-born, had the gift of Language, which granted him an unparalleled ability to connect and communicate. He could forge friendships and romances effortlessly, bridging gaps betwe...

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To Wish For

Lyndon Jones

"So what's the catch?"  I had summoned a genie trapped within this stone lamp about the wishes being offered. "You have three wishes," the genie said. "But there is always a catch." I was curious, and the lamp looked old. It had been in my family for generations. Maybe it was time to see what it could do. "What is the catch?" I asked. "There are always rules," the genie said. "And this one is no different." "What are the rules?" “Oh you know the usual, 3 wishes.” He pulls a pair of glasses out of thin air and puts them on. "You can only...

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Breath of the Briefcase

Lyndon Jones

Submitted to Contest #119

It came from my dad’s old briefcase. Not much to say about the thing. It was an old, sleek, black leather-bound briefcase. One of the few things he left me after his death. Along with a bucket of questions. Such as: “Is that briefcase breathing?” Breathing, as if it is alive. Fear jumps from my legs, up my spine, to the base of my head. It’s just like him to leave me with a literal object of fear. It’s been 2 weeks since he passed, I’ve been ready to look through his belongings. I often wondered if he liked messing with me. There’s ...

6 likes