Author Archives: Catastrophe Jones
In My Worrying, He Slips Away
His face is grey. I see the lack of light there. In the space that used to fill him up with life there is only a hollow. He breathes. He eats and speaks and he exists. His body survives. He … Continue reading
Flash Fiction Challenge – The Forgotten Jeweler
Coming in at just under 1500 words, this is in response to a flash fiction challenge from Chuck Wendig at Terrible Minds, seen here, called “The Random Title Jamboree.” * * * “There it is — there’s the door–” “Come … Continue reading
The Autumn Queen No. 21 – She Tells Me Things
This is #21 of The Autumn Queen. To start at the beginning, go here. PREVIOUS * * * “Mam!” was his first word. “Ness!” came soon after. We named him, but always called him ‘Boy’ as he grew, Grey Ness … Continue reading
Cyanide
Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow eventually comes and you are grey haired and knot-knuckled. You have measured out your last cigarette-stained peachpit and teaspoon and where once you scuttled under a dark oppressive ocean, sideways, hands grapp-grapping at nothing, snapping … Continue reading
Her Grasp Is Empty
She wants to lift her hands up to the sky and feel the sun on her face but all that comes is rain and shadow. She wants to feel a hand in hers, but her grasp is empty, and her … Continue reading