jkbradley I will be deleting my account. Please follow my blog for updates and flash fiction, for killer short stories, and perhaps just maybe in the coming year I'll expose my musical side.

It's been fun.

Thank you all!

Merry Christmas!
2y
  •   maciej288 Thank you 1y
  •   kuplu_reklamu Добрый день! Я представляю рекламное агентство. Мы бы хотели покупать рекламные посты в вашем аккаунте. Если вам это интересно, напишите, пожалуйста, на почту: posti865@gmail.com 12mon
  •   insta_promo_ru Предлагаем вам услуги по продвижению вашего аккаунта на русскоязычную аудиторию instagram:_____ Живые русскоязычные подписчики (не боты), добавляют вас по собственному желанию. При 10000 подписчиков более 1000 реальных лайков под фотографией. Размещение постов в популярных русскоязычных аккаунтах. База более 200 реальных пользователей._______________ Для того чтобы заказать услуги нашего агентства пишите на: ipromo777@gmail.com 11mon
  •   piakarlsson 10mon
  •   aubrey_grace Merry Christmas 9mon
  •   earthscanner Would love to read another story from you! Hope you've been well and happy 2014! 7mon
  •   jkbradley @earthscanner Howdy Pam. I've been writing regularly, mostly flash fiction. There are something like 65 stories on my web page linked above, all free! For now anyway. I'm looking at taking them down and compiling for a book with some new short stories as well. Have a look! 7mon

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jkbradley This photo is not mine, it was the prompt used this week for the #FridayFictioneers, to which several participants composed 100-word flashes of fiction. Below is my contribution. The format allowed by Instagram lacks. Please feel free to click the link on my Instagram to be sent to my website, it's free and much easier to read. Come, take my hand and walk with me. I have something to share with you.

Holiday Inn
Laughter.
Not the type you hear at a Christmas party or where teens roughhouse or even the kind that makes your ass pucker. It's not anything like those. It's more like a wispy echo and in the distance children are playing. Or maybe once were.
ashes...ashes...they all fall down.
My feet are cold, bare upon this sterile floor. I step toward the lighted end, my reddened night shirt gapes.
More laughter, I step again.
The familiar voices ahead, are they my own?
Another step.
My sticky hands tremble.
Laughter.
It does not wipe off.
My God, what have I done?
2y

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jkbradley The world continues to move even if you've been knocked out of the saddle. #bw #blackandwhite #horse #blur #charlottesville #VA #Virginia #carousel 2y

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Normal JK Bradley
jkbradley Stranger things have happened. 2y

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jkbradley I watch, I wait, I protect, your silent sentinel. 2y

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jkbradley In a Zen state of mind. 2y

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jkbradley "No you didn't." "Yup. I did." "Did you get sea sick?" "Nah. After a while it's like getting laid...it just feels good." "You're shitting me." "I am, but Mark said I could have all the lobstah I could eat so it was kinda like sex." "How so?" "Cause they're sweet and salty and good like buttah." "Fuckin A." "Now you got it." 2y

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jkbradley River sunset, started with a popped cork, clouds turned to cotton candy, then she kissed me goodnight. 2y

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jkbradley Flash Fiction Friday
Another submission I shared.
The image, again, is not mine. It is a prompt.
Feel free to visit my site for an easier format for enjoying. *************************** harbinger
as does the Monarch from flower to flower flutter,
spreading gentle caresses,
lapping sweet nectar,
unfolding delicate petals,
drinking her coming pollen,
such lovely succulence,
such glorious intoxication,
so does the harbinger from flesh to ripening flesh venture,
tantalized by noxious perfumes,
indulging upon sweetest necrosis,
shearing pleasures,
tearing delights.
glutted in the undoing yet not sated,
she rises from death's bed,
from such rapturous ecstasy,
to dry her quills.
she shrills her victor's song,
sagely remaining vigilant,
such magnificent poise,
awaiting the devouring of another lover.
2y

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jkbradley Flash Fiction Friday
Another submission I shared.
The image, again, is not mine. It is a prompt.
Feel free to visit my site for an easier format for enjoying. *********************** Burden In My Hand
Slashed grimace, crusted eyes, swollen cheek, I shoot the Johnny Black. It's fire in my throat and antiseptic for my slit lip and numbing. Barely. This mind will not settle. Too much sun, too much heat, too much bitching and no fucking trust. Voices echo from dark recesses; she screams, the others taunt. Help me, they're back inside! I lower my head, slouch, yet the bar mirror continues it's accusations. “Amanda coming?” “She didn't love me...” “Redd. Where's Amanda?” “I left her in the sand.” “Jeezus. Another? We need an ambulance?” “Get a shovel.”
2y

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jkbradley Flash Fiction Friday
Another submission I shared today.
The image, again, is not mine. It is a prompt.
Feel free to visit my site for an easier format for enjoying.
Shearing Placid
Austin struck a match and drew breath. The hand-rolled cannabis tip glowed. “Nothin' betta.” He chuffed then offered to Samuel who was soaking in the pleasantly burbling brook. “How'd ya find this place? Ain't on the map.” “Nope. Came across the fence while jacking deer; had a sign said 'Do Not Enter,' so I killed it and climbed over.” “Taylor's land, you think?” “Nah. Probably government. Fence goes miles.” A shimmering dragonfly scissored along, settled upon a tumbled rock, gossamer wings shearing placid stillness, mesmerizing Samuel. “Look there.” Another.
Then, several more.
Too many.
2y

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jkbradley Finding Way
Paths selected in favor of the more passable.
I clutch these choices to my breast, they cannot be stripped.
Whether worse or better, I claim thee, mine alone.
I own nothing if not my choices,
Or, they own me.
I cherish, I honor, I love, in my way.
But, I am tempted, and I am weak.
I am human, still.
Confident and capable, just not so as they believe.
Once I wished, in earnest prayer to be.
No longer.
I have my choices, my decisions.
And here, this lane.
For me, not them.
And then something else.
My match met, we know.
My stride broken, pride taken, I think.
Or simply given away?
Mistakes made, we were not mistaken.
Nothing to regret.
Was true, all, fierce indeed, and unknown in this pass before,
and Is Love.
Suffered yet, I died, and, I lived.
Upon this mirror I witness a slower and different being, .
Persisting here, but not alone.
Feeling here, I am unwhole.
But I am no longer worse.
I am finding way.
2y
  •   zaye_theninnja Put me here and tell everyone not to call me 2y
  •   _its_me_sandy_ Oh wow! Feel like I am finding that same way! (you been reading my mail! Lol) 2y
  •   rorogwela 2y
  •   cclm31 Great, as usual. 2y
  •   mone73 I love this one the most so far I wish I could express my self like that or someone to write like that for me, beautiful! 2y
  •   prettyinink723 Beautifully written!!! 2y
  •   angeleyes_ finding my way...not I...I am still stumbling on blindly....yet I heed your words....will they lead me down the right path...or tempt me to the darker side....I am human....but inside a monster dwells.... 2y
  •   akira_021 Nice one 10mon

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Normal JK Bradley
jkbradley Flash Fiction Friday, just a bit early.
Another submission I shared today.
The image, again, is not mine. It is a prompt.
The assignment: use the prompt to write a 100-word flash of fiction.
Feel free to visit my site for an easier format for enjoying.
The Gospel “Here comes another.” “Thought we'd seen the last.” “Coming to port.” “Feeble. Adrift in this destitute ether, and we an almighty battleship, reduced to scourging the flotsam. The indignation.” “In range of flame-jets in ten seconds.” “Don't they understand the world? We're of science, not superstition.” “In range, Sir. Awaiting orders.” “Open port torpedo portals. Make ready.” “Sir. she's coming about.” “What's this new game?” “She's broadsiding. Her guns are hot. Orders, Sir.” “The Gospel?” Expanding flash, ship ablaze, puckered flesh.
One parched whisper. “Good Heavens.”
2y

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jkbradley Flash Fiction Friday, just a bit early.
Another submission I shared today.
The image, again, is not mine. It is a prompt.
The assignment: use the prompt to write a 100-word flash of fiction.
Feel free to visit my site for an easier format for enjoying.
Black Parade
Softly, she leads the procession of shallow depressions across a dusting of white ash on blackest shadowed earth; a torturous path of naked foot falls in her wake, something more akin to tranquil blue lapping at sunned sand.
But not on this barren land.
She guides departed souls, this child, and sings her most sorrowful melody. 'As I walk through the valley...' The wind condemns the rape and murder, the lust and greed, their sins committed.
No appeals, no salvation, only this black parade.
She ceases upon a jagged precipice, continuing her tearful mourning.
Descending from grace they begin eternity.
2y

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jkbradley Flash Fiction Friday, just a bit early.
Another submission I shared today.
The image, again, is not mine. It is a prompt.
The assignment, use the prompt to write a 100 word flash of fiction.
Feel free to visit my site for an easier format for enjoying.
Dust
The facility far beneath the vacant cinder-block structure had been closed two years, a defunct burger front above. This reticent spicule of urban sprawl on the edge of Harrisonburg forever unsuspecting. Experiments, cries for mercy, now ghostly whispers wafting up twelve stories of cement throat, echoing into deserted prep zones once deploying manipulated strains of polyunsaturated fat. Something new flitted from the depths; like burnt smolders of paper, seething, came the vectors. Such lovely moths. Beautiful metamorphosis married biochemistry. Paralytic liquid secreted as wings unfurled, dried to dust, dispersed during gyroscopic flight.
Nearby, recess bells marked the beginning.
2y

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jkbradley Flash Fiction Friday
Another submission I shared today.
The image, again, is not mine. It is a prompt.
Feel free to visit my site for an easier format for enjoying.
Glass-Craft
The old people centuries before were shipwrecked upon this world, their cryptic glyphs and schematics lasered in stone. Icarus labored to decipher those foreign characters. He gathered rare desert sands, combined valuable gems, as instructed. He melted, fused, tempered the glass. A hull fabricated. An engine constructed, to be fueled by light itself.
The new people gathered under seasonal rains, they celebrated. Icarus boarded his glass-craft. Clouds parted, sun blazed, engines roared. His ship stretched skyward, took flight, bent light.
The crowd cheer as the ship rose.
Icarus bowed forth. Then, gone.
He visits frequently, after rains cease.
2y

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Normal JK Bradley
jkbradley Flash Fiction Friday
Another submission I shared today.
The image, again, is not mine. It is a prompt.
Feel free to visit my site for an easier format for enjoying. ***************** I Pray You Sing (a letter from Rachel)
Dearest Mother,
I'm sorry. I haven't always been easiest or prettiest and certainly I've let you down. Please understand, I've been angry. Children can be. So I ran.
Laying here, grasses crushed beneath, I wonder, can I still feel? Soothing sun. Coaxing breeze. Branches sway. Naked. As am I. Unblinking, imagining our world whole, yet, color fades, Mother, my heart rests.
Now, I traverse this awakening of permanent sleep, my understanding greater, my love for you ever deeper.
Left me here. Alone.
Cry for me not, Mother. I pray you sing, for I am coming Home.
Ever yours,
Rachel
2y

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