Jillian Spiridon
Bio
just another writer with too many cats
twitter: @jillianspiridon
Stories (325/0)
Every Day at Seven o'Clock
Henry Cummings was not the most social person ever to grace the planet. As a former community college professor, he had perfected his daily routine over nearly thirty years. Classes had been in the morning, he had read and graded class work such as papers and exams in the afternoon, and then he had gone home around four o'clock. A light dinner then had followed. Everyone had known not to disturb him past seven o'clock, even his wife Charlotte when she had been alive. In that way, reading had been the passion where he had always allowed himself indulgence.
By Jillian Spiridon3 years ago in Humans
Once Upon a Boy Band
Kaylee Henderson thought that she was just buying a ten-dollar bottle of Merlot at the supermarket right before heading home for the night. After two glasses, she mindlessly scrolled through her social media accounts for a sense of purpose, only finding ads for shapewear and too many heated opinions about world politics. Before clicking off for the night, she saw one of her favorite influencers was having a giveaway for a one-on-one meeting with the up-and-coming boy band Kiss & Tell, the members of whom could have easily been her little brothers fresh out of college. A giggle bubbled out of her mouth before she added a comment of her own: These boys look delicious enough to eat! And of course she had to add a string of heart-eyed emojis for good measure. Only after sharing the post for the giveaway did she sink back against her sheets and fall into a dreamless slumber.
By Jillian Spiridon3 years ago in Humans
Powerpuff: Bringing Back Girl Power Like It's 1999
Here's my disclaimer: I was not a big fan of the original Powerpuff Girls that aired on Cartoon Network between the years 1998 and 2005. Whenever I did watch the show (which wasn't often; I didn't grow up with cable), I usually just waited for the anime block to come on instead. While the show was vibrant and distinguishable from other cartoons of its time, I was young enough that the novelty and nuance behind certain aspects of the show just completely went over my head most of the time.
By Jillian Spiridon3 years ago in Geeks
The Sommelier's Wife
Marianne Lefleur had not expected to become a widow at the age of thirty-five. Though her husband had not been world-famous in his work as a sommelier, he had been expected to rise through the ranks after gaining a few clients in the burgeoning wine business in the United States. He had even become a consultant to a few celebrities and their organizations' events, thanks to connections he had made with other sommeliers after he and Marianne had traded France for California. Despite being in his late forties, Frederick Lefleur had had the world at his feet at the time of his death, only to have it all snatched away too soon by—of all things—a drunk driver.
By Jillian Spiridon3 years ago in Humans
Love in the Time of COVID-19
From Evan's perspective, the soft glow from the desktop monitor could have been misconstrued as candlelight. To get in the mood, he had poured himself a generous glass of Merlot (the bottle had been on sale at Trader Joe's, a practical steal as he saw it) before settling back into the chair he usually used for online gaming on his days off. But tonight was different, special even, because it was May 2020 and he was having his first date in what felt like ages. The lockdown in the city had made certain that he couldn't venture out to a bar or even catch a coffee date in the morning before work. Hell, he didn't even have to go into work, with his job as a book buyer for the local college moving completely remote till things...got back to normal.
By Jillian Spiridon3 years ago in Humans
I Left My Love in Catalina
The ferry ride to Catalina Island was rocky as I kept the urn close to my chest. The heavy metal containing my mother's ashes was a pretty thing with swirls of blue and silver and white, mimicking the tides of the ocean and the seagulls that flew above. It was the last gift I had been able to give her; her mind had fled from her so fast over the past few years that any presents had only delighted her in the moment, more because of the novelty than the actual items themselves. A shame, really: she had been such a collector before the dementia had set in and robbed her of her golden years.
By Jillian Spiridon3 years ago in Humans