Category Archives: Jess Jarman

Flash Fiction – January 2019

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I feel like every time I blog, I start out by saying, I know it’s been a long time since I’ve blogged…

This time is no different, so I won’t do that except to say, I think I’m finally starting to pull out of a major depressive episode I’ve been in for almost for a year, so I feel like I’m coming back to myself a bit. This is my first attempt at writing anything since I blogged last January. I hope it’s the first of many this year.

 

 

Walking into the room, I was assaulted by memories. Everything was different, but also, it was exactly how I remembered it.

“Kate, what are we doing here?”

I could hear Marie behind me, I knew she was asking me something, but I couldn’t pull myself out of my thoughts long enough to answer her. The shelves that used to be lined with books now stood empty, most of the contents strewn on the floor. Or gone, from what I could tell. That probably happened in the blast, I assumed. The hours I used to spend in here, reading titles off the spines, planning which book I would read next. All gone now.

“Hello! Kate! What is this place?”

Marie was getting more impatient by the minute and she was going to start yelling if I didn’t answer her soon.

Finally, I turned to my companion and met her anxious gaze. “This was my house.”

“Oh, for the love! Please don’t tell me we came here so you could keep looking for Matthew? I thought you finally gave up on him!” The disgust was clear in her voice.

“I have given up on him, I’m not looking for him anymore. I promised you that. It’s just…” I paused for a second to gather my thoughts. “A couple of days ago when I realize where our route was taking us, I decided it wouldn’t hurt to at least stop by here and see what, if anything might be left. It’s been almost a year, I figured it couldn’t hurt.”

Marie snorted delicately. “Right, hurt you or hurt us? If you get depressed again after this, I’m not dragging you out of here.”

I rolled my eyes at her. She wouldn’t let me forget the shape I was in when she first found me, practically comatose and waiting to die. What did she expect? My world had turned upside down, hers too. I’m still not sure how she held it together back then, and how she was now.

Looking around the room once more, I noticed a couple of books standing neatly on the shelves, the only items not on the floor. Dumbfounded I walked closer. They were my journals, of all things. I couldn’t imagine how they ended up down here, since I had always kept them in my closet, and that was where I had left them when I fled. Reaching up, I started to grab the red one, the last one I had.

“Don’t touch that.” I stopped moving at the voice, and the soft click of someone turning off the safety on a gun. “Don’t you touch a damn thing.” he said again.

Meeting Marie’s eyes, I could see she was terrified. With my hands in the air, to show I was unarmed, I slowly pivoted in place pulling back my hood at the same time. My ears hadn’t been deceiving me, I knew that voice.

“Matthew?” It came out in barely a whisper.

“Kate?” The surprise and confusion was clear on his face, I was the last person he had expected to see here.

Without thinking I ran to him and launched myself into his arms. He buried his face against my neck and I could feel him shaking as I hugged him.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, pulling back to look at me. “How long have you been here?”

“Me, what about you? Have you been here this whole time?”

“No,” he said. “I only came back through a couple of days ago, and thought I would check and see if there had been any sign of you. I didn’t really expect to find anything, or any one.”

Gesturing towards the shelf, I asked, “did you set my journals up there?”

He looked embarrassed, but nodded. “Yeah, I thought. Well, I thought they shouldn’t be hidden away anymore. Stupid, I know.”

The sound of someone clearing their throat reminded me that we had company.

“Matthew, this Marie. We’ve been traveling together, looking for, anything I suppose.”

He nodded at her in hello, but didn’t acknowledge her beyond that. “Have you seen anyone else?” Matthew asked.

“No. Marie found me about two weeks after the blast. Have you found anyone, Matthew? Anyone at all?”

“Not a soul.” The fear and confusion were evident in his voice.

Looking back and forth between my two companions I asked the question no one wanted to ask. “Are we really the last three people left on Earth?”

 

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Bronwyn Green | Jess Jarman | Kris Norris | Siobhan Muir | Gwendolyn Cease

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Flash Fiction Monday – Ghost by Halsey

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The inspiration for this week’s flash fiction is Ghost by Halsey. If you’re interested, you can read the lyrics here or listen to it here.

This is kind of short, but I’m just getting back into the swing of things…

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“Is that guy over there, watching me?”

“Which one?”

“The one by the pool table, with the group. Haven’t seen him play once, just keeps watching me when he thinks I’m not paying attention.”

I sneak a glance over that way again to see if I can catch the guy’s eye and I do, just as he glances away from me. Not bad, tall, dark hair, motorcycle jacket. My type on the outside.

“What do you think, Libby? Going to go introduce yourself?”

“No, I think he might come my way.”

I decided to put myself a little more in the mystery man’s realm and walked through the group of pool tables on the way to the bar to get another drink, Jackson following the whole time. I did my best to look like I wanted to be noticed, without trying to be noticed.

At the bar, waiting for my drink I felt a body move up next to me. A little too close really, unless that’s what you were going for.

“Hey,” he said. “Can I get you a drink?”

“Already have one,” I replied, as the bartender handed me a beer. “But you can join me outside for a smoke if you want.”

“Ok, sure. I’m Ethan.”

“Libby.” Taking a  drink from by beer I turned and lead the way to the back entrance of the bar, the one that let out into an alley between this building and the one next door.

“Lib,” Jackson said, trailing behind us. “What are you doing?”

I ignored him and pulled Ethan along with me. Once outside I set my beer down and pushed Ethan up against the wall, attacking his mouth with mine. He seemed stunned at first, but caught on quick.

“Libby, really,” Jackson was seriously annoyed now. “I thought you said it was going to be just us, for awhile at least. It’s only been a few months.”

I spared Jackson a quick glance, marveling again how the lights in the alley made a halo around his form. And he was right, I had promised him it would be just us for awhile. But, I was weak. And Ethan was cute. And who knew where things would go with him. Just because I made Jackson into a ghost who would stay with me, didn’t mean I would have to do the same for Ethan.

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Jess Jarman | Bronwyn Green | Kris Norris | Siobhan Muir | Deelylah Mullin | Gwendolyn Cease

Flash Fiction Mondays

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 Walking into Nick’s apartment I let out a little scream. “What the hell is that?”

“What? My painting?” he asked. “It’s my term project.”

“That’s your self portrait for Turner’s class?

“Yeah, what’s wrong with it?”

Nick sounded hurt, or maybe offended that I didn’t seem to love his work.

“It’s, just, a little disturbing. Especially, considering that its supposed to be a SELF portrait. Also, its a little…well…clockwork-y.”

“That’s the point, Darla.”

“I know what it makes me think of! Oh my gosh, that’s why it’s so disturbing. You’ve been watching too much Doctor Who again!”

Nick let out an offended huff. “Okay, first of all, there is no such thing as too much Doctor Who.”

“True, my apologies,” I said.

“Second, don’t know what you’re talking about.” He looked a little too innocent though. Like he was trying to pretend he didn’t know every episode of the show by heart.

“It reminds me of those creepy-ass clockwork people from that stupid episode with fireplace.”

“How dare you insult The Girl in the Fireplace!”

“Ha! I knew it! That WAS your inspiration. Some self portrait.” I turned back to look at the picture again, the gears on the face, the gold paint, the various pipes and pieces of metal. “I don’t get what its supposed to say about you, though.”

Nick looked at the picture with me for a minute, pondering. “I guess its supposed to say, ‘I’m more than just a man, I’m not merely human.'” He seemed very pleased with himself at that deduction.

“Hmmmm, all I get is creepy-ass clockwork. But I’m sure Turner will love it. A+ my friend. A+.”

| Bronwyn Green | Jess Jarman | Kris Norris | Deelylah Mullin |

Flash Fiction Mondays

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The cape only added to the heat, the heavy velvet trapped the humidity and made it even harder to breathe. But is was part of the mystery, no one was allowed to wear “normal” clothing or bring any sort of technology to the gatherings. 

I made my way down the colonnade, hurrying so I wouldn’t miss the beginning and be locked out. I didn’t see anyone else but that didn’t necessarily mean I was the last to arrive. There were so many ways to approach the gathering place that it was almost as if the others appeared as if from nowhere.

As I got closer, I could hear voices, low and musical. Just talking at this point, so I wasn’t late. I slipped through the door and joined the first group I saw. 

“Are we starting, soon?” I asked.

“Soon,” one of the others said. “We’re just waiting for the signal.”

Just a couple of minutes later, the signal came. The lights went out and silence fell immediately. There was shuffling as everyone got into position, at this point we all knew our places and didn’t need illumination to know where to go.

The silence endured as we waited for it to begin, our whole reason for being here.

Suddenly, the quiet was broken by a loud, single beat. Then another. On the third beat, the movements began. Synchronized and swirling, we moved, forgetting about the oppressive heat. It went on for minutes, the choreographed chaos.

The music stopped and we all froze.

“Alright, everyone,” came the voice from the balacony. “That was better. But this flash mob is happening in just a couple of weeks. We need to be on point. Again!”
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Jess Jarman | Deelylah Mullin | Bronwyn Green | Kris Norris

Wednesday Randomness – Behind the scenes of my current project

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This week’s random Wednesday topic is a peek behind the scenes of my current project. I haven’t been super productive lately, or productive at all, but I’m going to give you a sneak peek of the project I WANT to be working on.

This story came about from a photo flash fiction prompt last year. If you’re interested and want to read the story that started it all, click here. I think this is going to end up being the prologue, or maybe some sort of flashback. I definitely want it in the story somewhere.

The main location of the story is a bed and breakfast in New England, I see a house in my mind kind of like this:

B&B1

 

I also have a pictures in my head for a few key characters. The main character is Abigail, a widow who moves out East to start over. For her, I picture someone very girl-next-door, wholesome, sweet.

Abigail

 

For her deceased husband (who I realize isn’t actually in the book but still plays a large part), I didn’t have a specific person in mind. Not someone famous anyway, but a certain look for sure. This character is based on someone I knew in high school, but we’ll need to add some curly hair.

Mark

For the dashing doctor, Kyle, non other than the beautiful Chris Pine. Let’s all just take a minute to appreciate those eyes.

Kyle

And finally, for Abigail’s new friend Maya, who brings a wonderful group of people into Abby’s life:

Maya

This is basically just the most beautiful town ever, obviously.

I’m not sure what else I can say about the story at this point. I guess it would be categorized as a contemporary romance, my first foray into that area. Up until now I’ve focused mainly on YA. I’m probably a third of way through the first draft and I’d really like to finish it by the end of the year. That’s my goal.

See what the other bloggers are working on, and say hello to our newest blogger, Torrance!

Bronwyn
Jess
Gwen
Jessica
Kris
Paige
Torrance

Wordless Wednesday – Anger/Rage

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Mrs. White 5

Mrs. White 3

Mrs. White 4

 

Check out the other bloggers to experience their rage:

Bronwyn
Kris
Jess
Paige
Gwen

 

Flash Fiction Mondays

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This week’s flash fiction is inspired by “Little Heaven” by Toad the Wet Sprocket. If you’re interested, you can read the lyrics or give it a listen.

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“So, this is it, huh?”

“Seems like it.”

Daniel reached over and took my hand as we watched the scene unfold below us. People were running every direction, panic clear in the way they rushed about with seemingly no purpose other than to get as far away as possible. We could hear crying and screams, although from this distance no actual words made it through.

“Is this really the right way, Daniel? Are we supposed to just watch this happen?”

We both looked at the sky as the clouds visibly gathered and darkened, almost as though we were watching a time lapse film of a storm moving.

“You know the rules, Hannah. We are simply here to observe. That has always been our job. We do not interfere. We watch.”

He was right, I knew the rules. We’d been following them for long enough, but this was, I don’t know if heartbreaking was the right word. Senseless, maybe. Pointless. And still, we watched.

As one we turned to the east at the sound of an explosion. Daniel watched dispassionately as a large warehouse exploded, for no reason I could see, sending large pieces of flaming roof pouring down over the people trying to flee.

We could so easily help, get people to safety. Even stop the gathering storms if we were so inclined. But those weren’t the rules. With a crack of thunder the clouds burst open and a torrential rain fell, flooding streets. We saw people and cars washed away like so much debris and still, we did nothing.

Abruptly I realized Daniel was no longer by my side, but standing in front of me, blocking my way. “I can feel your indecision, Hannah. And if I can, so can the others. Do you want Raphael to come down here? Or Michael? It will be so much worse for these people if our brothers decide to become personally involved.”

He was right, Daniel was always right.

“Why create something like this only to destroy it?” I asked. The age old question, one we’ve asked time and again. Looking into the distance, far beyond what the people below could see, there was more smoke, more rain, more destruction. It was a never ending hellscape.

“It’s time to leave. We’ve seen all we need to,” Daniel said, gesturing toward the scene behind him. “Nothing is going to stop this now, that’s all we had to see to.”

I wanted to cry for these people, cry and scream about the unfairness of what happening to them. But I couldn’t, crying was impossible for me. And screaming would no good, in fact it would only make things worse. The kindest thing to do for them was to leave them on their own.

As one, we turned, our wings effortlessly lifting us into the sky. It was time to leave. Daniel was right, there was nothing more to watch. The apocalypse had come, those that were meant to survive would. And so would we. After all, angels were forever.

Check out the links to below to see what the other bloggers came up with:

Brownyn

Kris

Jess