J. S. Wade
Bio
Since reading Tolkien in Middle school, I have been fascinated with creating, reading, and hearing art through story’s and music. I am a perpetual student of writing and life.
J. S. Wade owns all work contained here.
Stories (245/0)
The Appalachian Revival
Emerald hills lay stair-stepped in the shadows of majestic mountains splotched with brownstone outcroppings. Molly stumbled down the two-mile-long rutted road at the center stage of the natural Appalachian amphitheater. Her new twenty-dollar tennis shoes blistered her heels and sweat beaded on the nape of her neck. I hope the woman's deodorant ads were accurate, she thought, or my body odor won't be a secret for long.
By J. S. Wade22 days ago in Fiction
Sleep No More. Content Warning.
Seagulls combated for scraps on the beach in the distance and distracted me from the pounding hammers on the new bleachers below my window. A wave of depression slapped me with the reality that I would never feel the wet sand from the surf squishing between my toes again, moonlit walks, or the soothing crashing of the ocean waves. Memories of a chili-laden Coney Island foot-long made the moldy cheese sandwich on the bunk seem even more revolting. At best, I had three days to live before my final breath on this earth. Seventy-two hours before a lie from a demonic child shot me through the heart in front of a community in want of a target. The two girls who had gone missing in the last month would soon become four, five, six, or more girls after my execution. They had convicted the wrong man. Correction; they were intent on killing the wrong person. Below the jail cell window, a young girl in a faded blue dress, maybe seven or eight years old, held up an emerald necklace and mouthed "Die.. die… die!" With an evil smirk on her lips, her eyes blazed red like the embers of a spent fire. A woman took her hand and led her away as I slammed my fist against the iron bars, and blood spurted from my knuckles as the skin split open.
By J. S. Wadeabout a month ago in Horror
Quitting. Top Story - February 2024.
Light pierced the cold darkness when the door opened and my husband's face looked down upon me. Unshaven, with haggard eyes, I almost didn't recognize him. I hadn't seen him in this state since he had returned from Iraq. I screamed for attention but I could not utter a sound. His hand passed by me, grabbed a beer, and doomed me to the darkness once again. I remember almost nothing but sudden pain, my daughter's shrill scream, and then blackness.
By J. S. Wade6 months ago in Fiction
Snow Day
Muted street sounds from outside Dr. Ari Stein's brownstone and Eva's long hair tickling his hairless naked body woke him. Leaving the warmth of their bed he pushed the window curtains back. He howled with delight at the dancing snowflakes and the steady accumulation of crystalline art. Two identical flakes stuck to the glass to document his handiwork.
By J. S. Wade6 months ago in Fiction
Until Hell Freezes Over
🎄🎄🎄 Leather couches can be hard, cold, or inviting. Today, it was cold. Ten years had passed since my Lori died. My daughter Joni was away at dental school, preparing to succeed my practice. The mantle clock ticked the seconds as two words racked my mind. What next? Ramee, the hound curled on the couch beside me, remained silent.
By J. S. Wade8 months ago in Fiction
Wind Dancer
Since the beginning, I have been a wind dancer. My parents said we are of many planets, some from far away galaxies, and many remain on Earth's moon. For centuries, I have risen to the heights of the stratosphere and circumnavigated the globe. For long respites, I have rested on the Earth. At times, I was embedded within its depths, once stuck in a glob of resin for millennia until the Earth erupted and set me free. I loved the freedom of soaring over green valleys and mountain ranges, my course chosen by the wind gods. Rain would come. Weighted from water, I was tossed downward to land in a pasture to feed the hay or the desert to nurture an orchid. Once depleted of my excess payload, a new wind would launch me into flight again to a new purpose, destination unknown.
By J. S. Wade8 months ago in Earth