J. Otis Haas
Bio
Space Case
Achievements (9)
Stories (63/0)
The Truly Cursed Life & Lingering Death of Captain Ward
Ward was Truly Cursed thrice in life. The first was upon his blood-soaked birthing bed, just after he was cut from his mother’s lifeless body. Surveying the scene, his grieving father had deemed the wailing newborn anathema and bid The Devil to take him as well, but it was merciful midwives who carried him off to the orphanage where he was raised on thin gruel and cruelty. Whether Old Scratch had a hand in the miseries to follow, only The Fates might say and they remain tight-lipped as always.
By J. Otis Haas21 days ago in Fiction
My Friend Caroline
The Christmas I thoughtlessly passed out lottery tickets to my then-girlfriend’s family I had no way of knowing that choice would alter the course of my life. Her parents had assumed guardianship of two teenage cousins who had lost their mother a few years prior and whose home-life had become increasingly untenable as their father’s grief and addictions consumed him. Unexpectedly, Caroline, fifteen at the time, won $5,000 on a scratch-off, which she graciously split with me, and for a while this was merely a funny anecdote, as she and I had nothing in common and little reason to engage.
By J. Otis Haasabout a month ago in Motivation
The Alchemy of Love
Spoiler Alert: The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho is discussed, including the ending. The quest for love consumed me for most of my life, which was a dark and twisting labyrinthine affair filled with frustrating dead ends, prison cells of my own creation, and more monsters, both within and without, than I care to count. There was a gnawing, aching, ravenous void inside me, a black hole of self-loathing and depression, and my warped mind believed for decades that love was the only thing that could fill it up. It turns out I was right, but not in the way that I thought.
By J. Otis Haas2 months ago in Confessions
Revisiting the Mountain
In my memory, the hill in the park where we rode sleds as children is a Himalayan slalom. I’d peer over the cliff in fear before launching myself along the icy track to be rocketed down what we called “The Mountain” at ludicrous speeds that, even then, felt reckless. Catching air over the jumps we made sent us soaring so high we’d swear we were above the treetops. There was euphoria in that weightless moment at the apogee, a fleeting sense of breathless wonder that seems elusive in adulthood, one of those joys that you’ve forgotten you’ve forgotten until something brings it all rushing back.
By J. Otis Haas2 months ago in Fiction
The Cup of the Lamb vs. Sunshine the Breaker
Living things invariably place themselves higher than inert objects in the hierarchy of creation. Though this may seem born of arrogance, it is merely an inevitable result of the finite and narrow perceptions of most conscious beings, and is certainly not limited to humanity. Do trees pity rocks, which in the timeframe of even an ancient oak’s existence, can not grow, but only break down? They do.
By J. Otis Haas2 months ago in Fiction
- Top Story - February 2024
My vocal.media Goals for 2024
A short piece about my 2024 vocal.media aspirations should be a simple enough task to complete, yet this is my seventh attempt and the deadline is looming. In unpacking why this has been such a difficult exercise, I must forgive myself by acknowledging that up until a few short years ago I was little more than a free-roaming id, and planning has never been my strong suit. I’d like to believe that’s been tempered a bit by some newly acquired wisdom, but the truth is that having spent so long living in the moment, weighed down by the gravity of the past, the future, as a concept, is something I’ve never really been in touch with. Trying to reconcile that with hopes and dreams down the road can be a struggle. Though now cured, this is the legacy of my depression.
By J. Otis Haas3 months ago in Writers
The Mysterious Disappearance of Goldie the Goldfish
Considering the supposed peculiarities of their limited memories, one must imagine that no goldfish could ever understand the importance its species holds in our culture. These little, gilded creatures have taught generations of children lessons about the fragility of life and finality of death. When little Eve came home from her friend’s seventh birthday party with a goldfish in a bowl, every member of her family, even Bobby, suspected that such an education would soon unfold.
By J. Otis Haas4 months ago in Criminal