Luna Jupiter
Bio
Reconstructing the norm one pen stroke at a time
Curiosity drives my passion
Intrigue serves my inspiration
Ink to paper is the vessel
And, the stories are my gift
Instagram: @l.jupiter.writes
Twitter: @LJupiterAuthor
Stories (9/0)
Quantum Thread
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. Yet, there is noise here. In a frequency so high, it’s silent. An almost deafening silence, one of anguish and affliction. The darkness is all-consuming, though luminous as stars fill the vastness of the open skies. I suppose there is peace in knowing that this is where it all ends. Time works differently here, still, I can tell that mine is running out — unless I find a way out of this predicament. A rather ambitious presumption, as the pressure burrows through my eardrums, filling my head with a smothering lightness, the weight of a bomb. I’m just one tick away from exploding. In the distance, the nebulous dancing of giant fireballs reflects a dazzling flame in my eyes as my vision blurs. With my back flat and arms outstretched, it’s the most relaxed I’ve been in a while. As if floating on water, my concern drifts away in waves. This breath is final. A slow and deliberate inhale with the shallowest gasp will welcome my end. In anticipation, my lungs expand. Then contracts, clearing the fog on the exhale. The clouds on my judgment pass and I’m reminded — THIS ISN’T REAL!
By Luna Jupiter2 years ago in Fiction
Brass Memories
The most impressionable moments happen when we least expect them. After all, there’s no rulebook by which we grade parenthood. As I recall memories of my dad, through the lenses of adulthood, I’d describe him as brave, bold, and passionate. Brave as illness crept through his bones, threatening all that he loved. He fought with courage and purpose to return home, defeating cancer for the first time. Bold, in his rejection of the mundane. He followed his internal compass without apology, carving his own path. This transmuted the world's noise into song and rewarded him with a life immersed in art and culture. Passionate as the dreamer, determined to manifest his innermost desires. While there are many, but not nearly enough, exciting moments I shared with my dad. The certainty that he remained true to himself has inspired me the most. This established that for parents, it’s hardly ever what you say. Instead, it is always their actions that influence impactful imprints.
By Luna Jupiter2 years ago in Beat
O. W. L
I can admit, I’ve never really given much thought to the outer world. The people outside of these walls, I assume, are resistant to change, to stepping into the future, and adjusting to the new normal. But, who am I to judge? They are free to do as they please as are we. There are stories and occasional whispers of a growing disdain to our way of life, yet I can’t seem to fathom why. We’ve chosen peace, a haven from the chaos that existed before I was even born. For whatever dissatisfaction they encounter in their lives, surely it has nothing to do with us.
By Luna Jupiter2 years ago in Fiction
The Groundskeeper's Contract
Sweet and salty, the essences indulge my palates as each lick catches the fresh blood dripping off my lips. The iron-infused concoction dribbles downward on my chin, painting a dark red message on the fallen leaves lying at my feet. A warning to escape while I can. Somehow, I can’t convince myself enough to leave this crouching position, though I should know better.
By Luna Jupiter3 years ago in Fiction
The 8th
Nothing is worse than being grounded for the entire summer. Sam scoffs at the unreasonable punishment that’s bothering her way more tonight than it did all summer long. She lies on her pillow-packed bed, plush and comfortable, flipping her pink polished nails through the pages of her new read. Haruki Murakami’s, IQ84. A fiction exploring the theory of a parallel reality seems fitting for her current predicament. An alternate realm where she’d be with her friends tonight, dancing at the end of the summer bonfire. Perhaps staring in the eyes of and cozying up to Jace Shepard. A long sigh follows the thought of Jace, he’s a specimen of ultimate perfection and the highlight of her dreams. Now there’s the reality she wants to live in.
By Luna Jupiter3 years ago in Humans
Last Call
Soft lighting that dances to the pulse of airy saxophone acoustics makes for a subdued night at Kennedy’s. The rustic bar in the SoHo neighborhood of Manhattan is often the site to be, even on rainy Wednesday nights, like tonight. But there is a notable difference in tonight’s vibe. The aroma of lemon zest garnish. The hushed tones. Even the rain droplets covering the windows. Like a puzzle, the pieces fit together and an ambiance of calm was born. Tonight, Kennedy’s is a mood.
By Luna Jupiter3 years ago in Humans
Reconstructing the Norm
In honor of Black History month, I must say there is not enough ink in a box of pens to commemorate the multitude of black creators who have inspired me. While I reflect on challenges past and continuous, I can celebrate in strides the overarching progress made within the community. So much of this progress either acknowledged or overshadowed by events of the past year.
By Luna Jupiter3 years ago in Viva
It's The Libra In Me
As a person who takes pride in my identity as an individual above all else — it would seem a hard pill to swallow when analyzing star signs. The idea that based on your date of birth, the stars align and assigns your personality traits. These traits would then dictate how you maneuver in this life. From imposing strengths and weaknesses to even your compatibility with other individuals. How dare the stars choose for me this way? Worst yet, why would they invite millions of others to share in the traits that shape my personality? The most unique part of myself. A crucial element that sets me apart and enables me to stand out. Accepting my star sign must surely be another way to place me in a box. So, why would an individual like myself find any value in it, right?
By Luna Jupiter3 years ago in Motivation
Witches of the West Indies
Blue ocean ripples and crisp white sand, a picturesque view that is anyone's dream. The same can’t be said for Jayla. For somewhere out there is where you might find her worst nightmare. It takes the shape of a human and goes by the name Damien. A simple fisherman by trade, though often mistaken as a model. He stands tall, dark, and handsome like a vision pulled directly from her fantasy.
By Luna Jupiter3 years ago in Humans
