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 (244/0)
A Twisted Ride
A twist of fate tested the metal of my marriage the night of the carnival. Sirens rose from outside the midway amidst the cacophony of the ding, ding of the Water Gun Race, thuds from Whack-a-Mole, calliope music, and whoops of victory from the Ring Toss. Happiness prevailed as fun seekers laughed, consumed sausages and cakes, and dared the next thrill ride. I loved the excitement of a good carnival.
By J. S. Wade2 years ago in Fiction
White Feather the World-Less
Prologue Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. I don't know who they are; I don't know who you are. I only know me. They could be Silak, my green feathered Tertian mentor. The Tertian flocks have taught me of the universe as best they understand, but they don't know from where I came. I hope to discover the answer before I scream and solve the puzzle once and for all.
By J. S. Wade2 years ago in Fiction
‘Til We Meet Again
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say, which was proven once again as my plasma sword sliced through the reptilian eye of the Spogre. Jade-streaked black goop erupted from the wound and splattered my insulated battle suit. The strange creature's orifice opened to reveal crystal razor teeth meant for my demise, like a slow-motion silent movie, and the alien's final wail dissipated into the realms of space.
By J. S. Wade2 years ago in Fiction
Project Urth
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say, blazed across the holographic monitor above the π-shaped council silicate table. The council chamber embedded deep in the rippled ridge of Stilbon, also called Mercury, overlooked the battered surface of the planet through the protective nickeled glass.
By J. S. Wade2 years ago in Fiction
Terminus Unknown. Runner-Up in The Runaway Train Challenge. Top Story - July 2022.
Out of a murky abyss, I awakened to a horn blaring through my fog. The warning blast rose in pitch to a peak and ended with a staccato burst. In the resulting silence, a perpetual pulse emanated like the mantle clock on my grandmother's hearth. The horn trumpeted again like Archangel Michael in the heavens with the coda of a constant bell intoning a departure. Blind to sight, absolute darkness engulfed me. Confused, I commanded my hands to explore, but my trusted appendages had joined my eyes in rebellion. A horn, a bell? I must be on a train. Why a train? Where am I? Where are we going?
By J. S. Wade2 years ago in Fiction
The Bullet Train
I. A bullish silver bus, impact, searing pain, red lights, bright white beams, confusion, and then darkness flashed like a continuous slide show in his agitated mind. With a start, Jordan woke to rhythmic rocking, clacking metal, and stale pungent air encumbered with floating dust and funeral decay. He sneezed. A constant beep chirped in the background like a weak battery warning. Light seeped through his half-open eyelids and matched the louvered beams that raided the room in motion. The evidence collected in his muddled mind produced an answer or, better yet, a question.
By J. S. Wade2 years ago in Fiction
Subscribe to my stories
Show your support and receive all my stories in your feed.
Send me a tip
Show your support with a small one-off tip.