Jennifer David
Bio
Intrigued creative. I hope my thoughts challenge yours
Achievements (1)
Stories (34/0)
A Star is Born
Seconds tumbled by. The hours and minutes, I’d long lost track of. The day could have lasted for years for all I knew. I'd spent it plodding through the barren wilderness desperate to be rescued. And to my disillusionment, the blistering heat was by no means assuaged by shedding my shoes and jean jacket. My feet were burned bare. My back could no longer support me. I had trekked as far as I could. My skin could no longer sweat. It was tacky with a salted white film covering it. The landscape before me, warped. And every breath I took felt too big and, yet, too empty. Black spots marred my vision. And stars twinkled in my sight even with the lingering rays of the sun. Then the chill of the night snuck up on me. Suddenly I was cold. I was too alone. I had nothing left to cover me. And it became all too clear that I had nothing left to save me. So I let go. I was engulfed in the desert’s silence.
By Jennifer David11 days ago in Fiction
Insatisitirepistemania (noun)
I’m a writer. I paint landscapes of worlds unseen on blank pages, with finite words and insufficient punctuation. I break chains of complacency. I push boundaries to wreak havoc on monotony. I burn bridges and invent new structures to carry and connect us. I build houses for new language to dwell. And I throttle diction beyond sight, into oblivion. It’s intoxicating, yet daunting. What if words to articulate the inexplicable never emerge in me?
By Jennifer David22 days ago in Fiction
Layers of Love
The Story: I’ve always loved lasagna. The first one I ever remember eating was made by my Uncle Joe. Uncle Joe is the oldest of my father’s 12 siblings. Unfortunately, he passed away when I was in high school. However, I’m thankful that I have a special piece of him to carry with me--his famous dish, lasagna. When I have lasagna, I think of his wicked laugh and experience joyous nostaligia. To this day it is one of my favorite meals.
By Jennifer Davidabout a month ago in Feast
A Letter to You: Doshini
I, for years, have tried to mimic the resonance of your song. I have failed to strum the right strings, in your succession. My vibrato mimics my longing in futile attempts at playing your refrain. I realize now, however, that the strength of your verse did not come from forced baselines. Instead it was crafted through an entanglement of trial and error, dynamics. The beauty you sang was full of experience, of moments and memories.
By Jennifer David3 months ago in Humans
Flora
Autumn of 2008, I wrote a poem. It was elementary, yes, but it was also somehow mature. It depicts the story of a leaf, Flora. The poem relates to her as a ballerina, resplendent, and searching for meaning. I found her, Flora, nestled in the piles of many leaves that riddled that North East, in October.
By Jennifer David3 months ago in Writers
A Chapter from My Memoir
My ring. I love it. It's gold. And its gilded exterior is fading. But the love engraved in it forever remains. It's cheap but it's not gaudy. It isn't classy. It's simple. And when it's wrapped around my finger its imperfect charm reaches across my whole hand.
By Jennifer David3 months ago in Chapters
The Book that Changed Me
A scholastic book fair to an elementary school student is like happy hour to an adult. From the multitude of genres of literature, to the school supplies, and toys, there is always something for everyone; it's like having everyone's favorite beer on tap.
By Jennifer David3 months ago in BookClub
- Top Story - August 2023
CinderellaTop Story - August 2023
My darling, Cinderella, to say that I am distraught is a mere fraction of the anguish that I feel. Disease has overcome me and I know I will not have a hand in raising you. I pray you have no worries in your life and that you are in good hands with your father. He is a predictable man. He is neither an angry nor an overly joyful person. Yet, I hope in his own way he is able to adequately express the love that you need. I am forever grateful for the remaining time we have together. You are the most precious little girl: kind, quiet, courageous, and a burst of happiness. I will hold you in my arms for however long I have left. And when the day comes for me to leave, I hope I am granted a glimpse of how life will treat you.
By Jennifer David3 months ago in Fiction
Third Times the Charm:Guardians of the Galaxy Volume 3
Guardians of the Galaxy three puts my assumtions on a rocket and sends them into outter space! It details my favorite rabbit's, or rather now clearly raccoon's, origins. He finds family and understanding in the face of utopian delusions and hate.
By Jennifer David3 months ago in Critique
