The Emptiness (a short story, of sorts)

Feeling as cold as the dark, icy landscape, the bundled figure trudges alone.  How long has it been since the last encounter with another?  Too long ago and for too brief of time.  Death in this frigid atmosphere is inevitable. 

The ending began with a dimming of their star.  Theories turned to conversations.  Conversations turned to disagreements.  Disagreements turned to arguments.  Arguments turned to war.  War over their perceived differences illuminated by the dimming. 

The bundled figure comes to a halt amidst the frozen desolation with final, futile understanding.  All of the warfare is what collapsed their civilization.  Their dying star only decimated the remnants of their planet, which now drifts lifelessly through the immeasurable void.
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2024, John L. Harmon 

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SIDE NOTE: 
In a moment of freaky fate or creative coincidence, I stumbled upon a piece of new music, right after I finished writing the above short story, and I feel it would make the perfect soundtrack. 

Click the pic ⤵️ to listen to “Emptiness in Static” from the minds of Blue Sun Chasing x Armageddon Speaking…

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Thank you for reading or listening to my half-blind words. 

Oh, and Happy New Year or something. 

Freak Out, 
JLH 

P.S.  click the pic ⤵️ for a different story about a different planet…

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Something to read in 2024… 
📗
https://mybook.to/Sturgeons 

Killer Nature (a poem, of sorts)

Take my hand 
As we stroll 
Through the flowering fields
Until our feet meet with thorns
Infection quickly spreads 
Losing the need for shoehorns 

Take my hand 
As we hobble 
Through the wandering woods 
Until a full hugging tree 
Slaps our smiling faces   
Leaving us with nothing to see  

Take my hand 
As we feel 
Through the silent shrubbery   
Until aromas make us crave 
Sweet berry poison  
Leading us to nature’s grave 

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2023, John L. Harmon 

I asked a friend for a poetry topic and she suggested nature.  The above words were the result. 🌳🪦

Thank you for reading or listening to my half-blind words. 

Freak Out, 
JLH 

P.S. click the pic ⤵️ for a different poem inspired by a different friend… 

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My books on Amazon… viewAuthor.at/JohnLHarmon 

Whatever Happened to the Boy Next Door?

    He glances at the clock.  Its incessant ticking is a reminder of missed opportunities and wasted years.  He once seemed full of life, vibrating with potential.  Now he sits alone at the kitchen table, waiting.

    The rejection letters scattered before him draw his attention away from the pounding clock.  He finally tried, after lingering in a paralytic state of mind.  Now he wonders how long one should keep trying, which is why he waits.

    A swig from the vodka bottle clutched in his left hand should burn his throat, but physical pain has long since been muted.  All that remains is the emotional remnants of a failed life.  He takes another swig and looks at the deafening clock.  Now he knows the waiting is over, cocking the gun gripped in his right hand. 

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(This piece of flash fiction was inspired by a recent selfie.)

Thank you for reading or listening to my half-blind words.

Freak Out, 

JLH 

P.S.  A recent poem...

https://freakboyzone.blogspot.com/2020/04/soul-searching-breakfast-pastry-micro.html 

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A Twitter thread of blogs & music...

https://twitter.com/jlh_collective/status/1245288246449446912?s=21 

IN THE SHADOWS (a very short story)

He stands motionless in his neighbor's living room, staring out the ornate front window.  The gentle evening sun casts crooked shadows over the bloodied walls and furniture.  Scattered behind him, his neighbor is no longer screaming in terror.

A distant siren penetrates the whispering trance he is under.  Other neighbors must have heard the commotion, but that was to be expected.  He knew the act would be violent and loud because the shadows told him so.

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I conducted a Twitter poll to see what I should blog about next.  There was a tie and this very short story is one of the winning choices.  Stay tuned for the other winner...Untold Eye Stuff!

Thank you for reading or listening to my half-blind words.

Freak Out, 

JLH

P.S. A longer short story from 2014...

https://freakboyzone.blogspot.com/2014/06/late-again-tonight-professor-danton-he.html 

Semblance

Shadows were his eyes as he wandered through dimensions, seeking the one of understanding.  Seeking a semblance of permanence within the folding universes.  

Reality is never what it seems but always what it is, the shadows whispered through him.  His eye twitched as blood evaporated, allowing him sight of one reflected into understanding infinity. 

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This has been a very short story based on an eye selfie.  Thank you for reading or listening to my half-blind words. 

Freak Out, 

JLH 

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My books & blogs...

https://thejlhcollective.blogspot.com/2018/03/the-collective.html