J. S. Wade
Bio
Since reading Tolkien in Middle school, I have been fascinated with creating, reading, and hearing art through story’s and music. I am a perpetual student of writing and life.
J. S. Wade owns all work contained here.
Stories (248)
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The Gift of the Socks
My real education in life began the year after I graduated high school when I met Charlie. The frigid air, a record cold at seventeen degrees, seeped through the seals of the front display glass, and I turned up the floor heater in the sporting goods store I managed. The old retail building, built eighty years earlier, didn't have much insulation and no central heating and air.
By J. S. Wade4 years ago in Humans
Jocassee - The Place of the Lost One
This story is dedicated to Tom Bradbury, your critiques will be missed. *** July 1974 Amelia Logan, cold, wet, and agitated, stood on the rickety dock as the angry waves from the vast lake lapped over the old wooden boards. Her stringy damp hair whipped in the wind, and her blue cotton dress, soaked, clung to her petite body. She gazed up at the gray and black clouds that roiled across the skyline that sprayed mists like a judgment on the world and its inequities. Her mind raged like the summer storm and wondered where Heidi had been the past year.
By J. S. Wade4 years ago in Fiction
The Gum, the Chocolate, and the Pill
The war raged on over the years between the girls and the boys at our youth summer camps and I learned a lot from them as a young man. Water balloon fights escalated into shaving cream battles. The Saran wrapped toilet seats in the girl's dormitory lead to retaliation and the clandestine theft of all the boy's light bulbs on the holiday weekend retreat. There was no chance at peace talks after that round because my friend Stephen entered the action. He was a genius (our class valedictorian years later) and read voraciously, even at camp. The light bulb heist disrupted his schedule, and it angered him.
By J. S. Wade4 years ago in Humans
Wicked: A Broadway Musical Review
Broadway musicals have come and gone since the first musical, Jazz Singer made the stage with live music in 1932. Wicked opened in 2003 and has been performed in over 100 cities. I had the pleasure of experiencing Wicked in October of 2017 in the Gershwin Theater, Broadway, New York City.
By J. S. Wade4 years ago in Geeks
Jasper's Story: A Groundhogs Pandemic Nightmare
The reborn shafts of sunlight illuminated the once dark tunnel, and Jasper realized the time had come to go to work. He ambled up the dirt cylinder into the light and poked his head up in caution to pan right and left. His nose pumped air, in and out, in short bursts, a part of his long-range defense.
By J. S. Wade4 years ago in Fiction
Eternal Gold
The Year 2021 The burnt orb splashed its amber light across the waterfront as I drove into St. Augustine, Florida, at sunset. Moss-covered oaks greeted me as I entered the oldest city in America. This once Spanish city had long been my planned escape from the world if the need arose, though I never thought this day would come.
By J. S. Wade4 years ago in Fiction
On Frozen Pond
As Time Goes By, Tony Dorsey Band, 1943 The stellar view of the almost frozen pond and wind-danced trees from the enclosed porch reminded me of the saying, time waits for no one. Valerie, my daughter, a self-proclaimed exception, was late as usual. She pulled into the gravel driveway in her Hybrid vehicle, came inside and greeted Papa, her grandfather, and me with a hug. At eighty-nine years old, Papa had been physically struggling the past month, and I encouraged her to visit him. Like the short days of winter we endured, his time on earth was limited. She hadn't seen him in over a year and not since they had a heated argument about the person of her romantic interests.
By J. S. Wade4 years ago in Fiction
The Swan Princess
The final curtain fell before me like a guillotine to the off-Broadway stage floor for the ballet that never filled the seats to half-capacity. I didn't know this would be the last performance of my career. The only person saddened might be the little man in the red velvet dinner jacket who stood in solitary ovation at the end of every show.
By J. S. Wade4 years ago in Fiction
