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 (242/0)
- Top Story - November 2023
Blowing in the WindTop Story - November 2023
Palm trees rattled gently in the breeze as the water rippled across the clear blue pool. Lounging with a cold bottle of lemonade in one hand and a ripened date in the other, I realized life couldn't be better. With my handkerchief, I polished anthropological awards pinned to my safari shirt. As a world-renowned lecturer and real-life Indiana Jones, I have helped solve many mysteries of the past.
By J. S. Wade7 months ago in Horror
The Return of the Witch of Endor
"May all healings that have been made for him come out badly… the curses of the earth and of the heavens and of the dead and the living… May they be dispatched against this leader and his sons… May no remedy or dissolving sorceries be received for them…May the evil sorceries be as mountains and high places and clothe with evil sorceries as garments of sores. May evil sorceries be drawn against them, and may they come to rest upon Ahatoi and Abirta, and may they sweep upon them like birds," read the fake witch from the terracotta bowl.
By J. S. Wade7 months ago in Fiction
Equivalootitus
Yellowed paper scuttled erratically across the crowded park of vagabonds, and the lithe blond-haired woman followed. Unlike the previous year's success, Fashion Week in Central Park highlighted trendy stained clothes with a sundry of iridescent patches accessorized with vicarious animalistic body odors. The crumbled newspaper brushed into a picnic table displaying canned vegetables, sardines, a sprouted potato, and a tin of Beanee Weenees.
By J. S. Wade7 months ago in Fiction
- Top Story - October 2023
Out of the ShadowsTop Story - October 2023
SAMHAIN, November 1, 2024 "Sabete Latepo," chanted the high priestess. "Sabete Latepo," echoed twelve times around the encircled parchment and chicken heart laying on the sand. Splashes of fresh blood accented the handwritten words,
By J. S. Wade7 months ago in Fiction