Jesse Hodge
Bio
Just a mature age student studying creative and critical writing.
Stories (7/0)
The voyage
Across windswept waves into the azurite blue, the ship sails on.
By Jesse Hodgeabout a year ago in Poets
Just One Postcard Away
The sun had fallen below the horizon and the last smudge of pink that trailed the boundary between land and sky quickly faded to deep blue, almost black. Lucas stirred at his computer, the bright fluorescent light from the monitor waking him out of a restless, muggy sleep. He opened his eyes and blurrily stared at a framed photo of himself and his husband, Daniel, blinking several times to clear his vision. His skin was clammy, his clothes sticky in the humidity, and he lifted his head with a groan from where it had been resting against his arms, folded underneath. He grimaced and massaged his face, ran fingers through chestnut brown hair sticking to his forehead and temples and stood up. Unbelievably, where it had been fully light out when he had dozed off it was now dark, hours having passed, but for all the sleep his head was pounding and groggy. Lucas stumbled to the light switch, nearly tripping over his own shoes that he had kicked off carelessly into the middle of the floor. Warm orange light flickered on, and he winced shielding his eyes from the sudden influx. He stood in the front room of his house, old and slightly run down it served as both living room and study to the newlywed couple with big plans for home renovations in the future. Lucas looked over to the computer, the half-written proposal that he had been making progress on idled with the cursor blinking at the end of an unfinished sentence. As he let out a big sigh and prepared to walk into the kitchen, he remembered the parcel that had been delivered earlier in the day, waiting on his kitchen table.
By Jesse Hodgeabout a year ago in Fiction