Jonah Lightwhale
Bio
I try to tell short stories from the unexpected land where I paused
Stories (6/0)
Paleontology
It is no longer a matter of resurrecting a platypus. The prospects that open up are frightening. Even Dr Strawman is hesitating. He turns away from his own work surface. The sun is setting and a pearly glow spreads over the hills. For a moment, Dr. Strawman envies the old yellow dwarf. How many times has it set? How many times has it risen again? Someday it will fade away, yet that eventuality does not seem to worry it at all.
By Jonah Lightwhale3 years ago in Fiction
The Book of Good Nights. Unknown author.
This is the story of how my grandfather found his bedtime story. Grandpa and I look a lot alike. We have, for example, the same blue eyes, and the same chin dimple. But what makes us so similar is sharing an extraordinarily long and varied list of fears. We are not just afraid of the dark, of spiders, of monsters in the closet, of walking down a hallway on our own. My grandfather and I are afraid to lean on the elevator mirror because we are convinced we can walk through it and plummet to the bottom. We tighten our eyelids so as not to cross the light of a stand-by LED on the TV or stereo. Before we wear a shirt we need someone to check it inside.
By Jonah Lightwhale3 years ago in Fiction
Photoluminescence
I need time to prepare breakfast. I'm almost a hundred years old. I set up the small kitchen table, take care that the tablecloth doesn't form folds, fill a nice bowl with cereal and blueberries, make a cup of barley for me and a cup of coffee for my wife. Every morning. Even this morning.
By Jonah Lightwhale3 years ago in Futurism
Looking for John
I know a guy. He knows how to write. He can read the hearts of the people he meets. He can also play the guitar. How well he knows how to do all these things, honestly, I don’t know. You can call him John, although his name is much longer and more composite. John should be in his fifties by now. He doesn’t need much money to live on. His wife is the only love of his life. He has a small house. Three sons. He had a lovely dog, died of old age last year.
By Jonah Lightwhale3 years ago in Fiction