Claire Jones
Bio
On a journey to find the right words.
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Achievements (1)
Stories (26/0)
The Night Shift
A lone female figure dressed all in black, and wearing a set of peculiar glasses, darted silently between the shadows outside the aquarium. She glanced in growing agitation at her watch before continuing on at a hastened pace. One thing was clear, Alice was running out of time.
By Claire Jones4 months ago in Criminal
Castaway
There were five alerts competing for his attention. Loudly. The most urgent of which indicated his bio-monitor was no longer functioning. Which probably had something to do with the large crack in his visor that should have killed him instantly, but against all odds he was still breathing.
By Claire Jones11 months ago in Fiction
The Begining
It was a crisp November morning, the sun had not yet managed to penetrate through the stubborn cloud cover, so shadows still clung to the corners of the house. The grounds were scarce in stark contrast with the overbearing manor, it’s dark stone walls, gothic windows and spindly towers making a bold statement in the little wood clearing. Tall oaks bereft of leaves bordered the property, their long branches reaching out towards the manor as if the forest were trying to reclaim its rightful land. Leaves hung around the base of the trees, their colors muted by weeks of neglect and decay. A short, portly woman hurried up the path following the crumbling stone wall that led up to the old manor. Her skirts tangling around her legs in the strong late autumn breeze. Though even the wind was unable to move a single strand of hair in her stubbornly tight bun.
By Claire Jones12 months ago in Fiction
Memories Fade
Last night I dreamt of my mother for the first time. I can’t remember what she smelled like or hear her laughter in the air. Or what it felt like when she held me close to her. If I could remember, I’d miss seeing her eyes crinkle as she smiled and the sweet softness of the cookies that she baked.
By Claire Jones12 months ago in Poets
Forever and Always
Last night I dreamt of my mother for the first time. She passed away when I was nine years old and I don’t have any memories of her before she got sick. I often grieve the mother I never knew, the advice I never heard, the hugs I never felt. In the dream she was in the hospital but she didn’t look sick. We spoke for hours about everything and nothing but we didn’t say goodbye, we didn’t need to. I woke up with tears in my eyes and it took me a moment to realize, I was happy.
By Claire Jones12 months ago in Fiction
The Unbroken Key
Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. Mara loved to watch them bend and blow into strange shapes, she sat on a chaise in the corner of the small unit she shared with her father. The archives didn’t usually provide a residence for families but they’d made an exception. Mara still wasn’t sure why. She played with her hair, humming quietly to herself, her legs curled gracelessly beneath her as she stared out the window when suddenly, something caught her eye. A small shape passing through the clouds, she leaned forward squinting. It almost looked like a missive. But who would be sending one at this time of night? The archives had enacted a strict curfew after numerous noise complaints. She tracked the folded piece of paper as it flew across the pink sky, directly towards the administration office. Before she could muse any further on the origin or purpose of the missive she was distracted by a noise behind her. She turned rapidly, almost falling from her chair and saw her father standing in the doorway with an amused smile.
By Claire Jonesabout a year ago in Fiction
