Randy Wayne Jellison-Knock
Bio
Retired Ordained Elder in The United Methodist Church having served for a total of 30 years in Missouri, South Dakota & Kansas.
Born in Watertown, SD on 9/26/1959. Married to Sandra Jellison-Knock on 1/24/1986. One son, Keenan, deceased.
Stories (113/0)
Time Out
He drew the brush across the surface, thrilling to watch the bristles’ trace fade into uniformity of color & texture. Up & down, back & forth, in countless swirls & diagonals, tracing brilliant though transient designs before his eyes, embracing them within each moment in the deep recesses of his mind.
By Randy Wayne Jellison-Knock12 months ago in Fiction
I Spy with My Little Eye
I love seeing the best in others. It is transformative. Ever since the first time we did affirmations at a church camp, it’s been one of my favorite activities. I’d spend the entire week watching, like a lioness stalking her prey, waiting to catch something special. I didn’t want to write down something obvious like, “cute” or “great hair” or “funny”. I wanted it to be something unique, something with meaning that would both encourage & inspire the recipient.
By Randy Wayne Jellison-Knock12 months ago in Humans
- Top Story - April 2023
April 15, 2013Top Story - April 2023
Trigger Alert: this is a story about death & loss, specifically the death of our son in a car accident all but ten years ago, told from his point of view. The events are real, though his thoughts are obviously fictional. I’ve written it mostly in hopes of finding some catharsis & share it with you as part of that quest. But if such things make you squeamish, & especially if you knew our son, please don’t read any further. Those who have become a part of this community of loss would sincerely wish that no one else need come to understand what we’re going through, not even so much as to read a story.
By Randy Wayne Jellison-Knockabout a year ago in Horror
One More Time Through the Looking Glass
The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own. Or was it? To be honest, I wasn’t quite sure. The whole room was tilting the way everything seems to spin when you’re dizzy. A hollow warmth began to enfold me & a brushing tingle swept around both sides of my face, alerting me to the fact that I was close to passing out.
By Randy Wayne Jellison-Knockabout a year ago in Horror
Fractured Reflections
The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own. Admittedly, I didn’t usually look. A part of being autistic is that I don’t really see eyes. I have to stare deeply & with great intent just to discern their color. To do so isn’t easy & it takes some time, which heightens the risk of me getting caught. That’s frightening, to the point of being almost paralyzing for me. I only rarely look at eyes. Perhaps the bridge of the nose, the space between the eyebrows, the lips or tip of a cheekbone, but almost never the eyes. Not even mine.
By Randy Wayne Jellison-Knockabout a year ago in Horror
- Top Story - April 2023