Jordan Flynn
Bio
Out of Grand Rapids MI. I write because I have to. (I am a noob however.)
Follow me @ Jayyeffe on instagram
Stories (38/0)
Petit Louis
The first time Pablo noticed the boy was one night when he saw him being chased down the street by the fat baker. He nearly caught him too, though the boy escaped the pudgy grasp with nothing but a ruffled collar. He ran diagonally past Pablo, stuffing his mouth full of some indiscernible slop.
By Jordan Flynnabout a year ago in Art
Room Number 9. Runner-Up in Unexpected Uncovering Challenge. Top Story - May 2023.
Many a night her hand would reach over to his side of the bed, in search of something long forgotten. Her fingers tracing the creases of the sheets only to find them crumpled and long dormant; vacant of his warmth.
By Jordan Flynnabout a year ago in Criminal
Shattered Dreams
The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own. It showed numerous reflections actually. Tall me’s, skinny me’s, fat me’s. Versions of me that were all chest, like I was one of those buff bulldogs in the old Looney Tunes cartoons. Then others that were all legs, like a chicken.
By Jordan Flynnabout a year ago in Horror
Voices of The Lost
Jorge Vale didn't normally work from home, save but to get caught up on a project. Or to get a start on the next day's work. This naturally increased during the pandemic when he exclusively worked from home. This night was a different circumstance altogether.
By Jordan Flynn2 years ago in Fiction
Killstreak
The outside world was unknown to her, but she could see a glimpse of it through the window in his room. She tried to imagine how the land was in its prime. Before the green grass was stripped from the Earth. Before the trees died of rain tainted by nuclear fallout. Animals may have lined her viewpoint, birds could’ve pecked at the window she now gazed from.
By Jordan Flynn2 years ago in Fiction
Herbert's Delivery
“That's it, to hell with these boxes!” Herbert shouted to no one. With one hand he carried the small box, and with his other he supported his c shaped back as he walked toward his trash can. “I don't know how many times I have to put this out here, when it's not my damned package.”
By Jordan Flynn2 years ago in Fiction
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