Jeff Ford

Joined February 2021

0 stories

Bio

Restarting Bio. Worked as a physician for about 30 years. Disabled. Now I write, because I can.

Stories (10/0)

The Eighth Day
His shadow found its mark, and having done so, fell faster than the eye could follow. A narrow bolt dropped straight from zenith to where she lay on a granite palette, and it pierced all the nested domes of twilit sky, where birds hung about in lazy circles, and the gathering moonlight tamped down the faltering sun. He stalled a perfect bare cubit above her.
By Jeff Ford3 years ago in Fiction
The Eighth Day
His shadow found its mark, and having done so, fell fell faster than anyone abut he he might follow. A narrow bolt dropped straight from zenith to where she lay on a granite palette, and it pierced all the nested domes of twilit sky where birds hung about in lazy circles, and the gathering moonlight tamped down the faltering sun. He stalled a perfect bare cubit above her, and set his fine claws astride her.
By Jeff Ford3 years ago in Humans
The Middle Wife
And while he rested in the great hall to the North, many leagues to the North now, as these things go in this Age, the one upon the throne that could hold no other was taking a break.
By Jeff Ford3 years ago in Horror
On Frozen Pond
“The loons! The loons!” shouted Cam. “Shut up man. Just be quiet. Let the old man sleep.” “The loons. The loons,” whispered Cam. Gilles slugged him.Approaching from the north, the three jagged mountains poking the sky before them were called Nunatak. Others with more imagination called them Kakivak, an Inuit fishing trident, seeking its mark in the Great Apvik, a spectral whale formed by the aurorae. Or Pingasut. Three.
By Jeff Ford3 years ago in Fiction
Seven Years a Jig
A gris-gris and the underpowered headlamps had somehow got her home. Her rust-riddled mini-van found the grooves nearly by itself, into what must be the lowest reaches of the Deepest South. She stopped, opened the trailer park gate, and drove down into the depression upon which her double-wide rested. She laughed out loud at the thought of kings and queens dismounting her carriage. Sometimes she thought her brain was getting as twisty as Lucy’s. She parked the van under the sagging carport, collected the groceries and her purse.
By Jeff Ford3 years ago in Fiction
The Locket
I was young. So young. I was there at the laying of the keel of this lucky corvette, the RFS Sergey Gorshkov, and I rode the mighty sluices and slaps along the 1000 meter cut into the Baltic, from Baltiysky Zavod shipyard into the cold Baltic Sea, and so did Ekaterina. Ekaterina Galina Sokolova, my beloved, who pushed her hand deep into my jacket pocket so that others might not see, and pressed her locket into my palm. I had bought the jewelry for her at a fine store in town, and put a picture of us in each side, facing one another.
By Jeff Ford3 years ago in Fiction
Summer's Haunt
Passion and gold dust break out of the sea We two on our atoll’s windward strands My girl makes high work of shoulders and hands
By Jeff Ford3 years ago in Poets
Granny Del's Farm
There was a war on Mott Street. It was hard to see, but hatred ran from house to house, a thing most real, played out in the weapons of misinformation and ideology.
By Jeff Ford3 years ago in Earth
Wine-Flavored Jelly Beans with Lark's Tongue in Aspic
Michelle was going on a date. It had been so long, a year or more, but her friends had connected her with a gentleman who could actually string a sentence together and did not have the ‘yellow fever,’ which was a real problem for a woman of her form and features.
By Jeff Ford3 years ago in Humans
Tell Me A Story
He was very tall, and looked thin as a switch upon which an overlong, ill-fitting grey Ulster had been carelessly draped. A great ball of white hair bloomed around his head and down his chin like a dandelion puff.
By Jeff Ford3 years ago in Horror

Jeff Ford

Bio

Stories .css-19zxm0z-Text{display:inline-block;color:var(--text-default-mute);}(10/0)

The Eighth Day

The Eighth Day

The Middle Wife

On Frozen Pond

Seven Years a Jig

The Locket

Summer's Haunt

Granny Del's Farm

Wine-Flavored Jelly Beans with Lark's Tongue in Aspic

Tell Me A Story

Stories (10/0)