Jordan Zuniga
Bio
Aspiring christian creative writer creating pieces to provoke thought and give God and Lord Jesus Christ the glory! God bless and I hope you’re doing well!
Stories (449)
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This land is your and my land.
The first days of spring created an atmosphere of hope. The sunlight arose, the dew droplets dripped, and the land started to soak in the warmth from the sun. Winter had come, winter had passed, and the harshest blizzard storms had ceased their callous and bitter rage against the land. The land seemed blessed in all that it did, and it was prosperous in bearing its fruit. I strolled through the meadows as per usual every morning. A little walk through the land itself before the labors of today would start. A tree bearing fruit was always along the end of the pathway. It was a pear tree, and it had the most delicious pears I had ever tasted.
By Jordan Zuniga4 years ago in Fiction
Winter wonderland.
Winter, is a place of bitter cold and despair. It is not a time of frolicking in the snow with family, building snow forts and snow men to guard them, nor the reminder of holiday cheer. It is a place of bitterness, plague, loss, and ultimately, death. Many winters humanity has endured, and many have suffered slowly, painfully, in the freezing cold. The merciless onslaught from the blizzard's siege, to the inability to grow anything from the earth. Closeness, warmth, a hearthfire. The scent of soup cooking upon the stove barely lit, as we sang songs of hope around the hearthfire amidst our humbling dwelling, a wooden cabin. Winter was not a time for fun. It was a season of survival, of endurance, of patience. Of keeping the lamplight ablaze when all hope seemed to fade into darkness.
By Jordan Zuniga4 years ago in Fiction
The storm brewing in the westfold.
We stood on thin ice, even when it wasn’t snowing in our lands. The atmosphere was cold and oppressive, uncertain and fearful, regardless if winter had come. I gazed into the eyes of my dearly beloved, as her smile spoke of gratitude from the ice skating on a frozen pond. “I thoroughly enjoyed this trip. May we enjoy many more throughout our years of marriage, Joseph!” She declared. I gazed at her coldly, shrewdly and my heart began to sink. Her eyes spoke of concern, as she drew closer to reinforce her care. “I cannot bear to think of what many more years are to even look like, when such decisions that have yet to be made and I have my part in them, will affect the lives of many. I do not think myself, equal, to the task to which I am assigned, Abigail,” I replied. Abigail smiled, her hand slowly was placed on my palm. “No man or woman, is truly equal to the task to which they have been assigned. Regardless as to how highly others may think of themselves, ultimately, none of us are equal to what we do. We do not gain wisdom by being equal to that which we are called to pursue, we find growth and become wiser, by overcoming something bigger than what we currently are. Great men do not become great by staying as they were before. Men find greatness, by pursuing something bigger than they are, and having the humility to recognize that nothing they have achieved, was truly done on their own and by their own strength. You will find exaltation and maintain it, by making sure your character, your heart, is in the right place and has the right qualities needed to be successful in what you are called to do. Don’t forget this, Joseph,” Abigail counseled. “You are right. It’s getting late. We should head back home,” I encouraged. Her arm wrapped around mine as we slowly strided from the frozen lake towards the snow.
By Jordan Zuniga4 years ago in Fiction
A flash of green light fiction.
I hated these long rides home. The constant scoffing from the roadragers, to the raising of car horns screaming their contempt. “Get out of my way, you jerk! I have a doctor's appointment to make! And I ain’t wasting any more time!” an Elderly woman with curly white hair screamed at me. “Okay, you know what old lady? You need to calm down! I’m so done with this! Wait, I told her to calm down, and that never works,” I thought out loud. I put my head on the wheel of my car, and just sighed in frustration. “This day, could it get any worse?” I groaned overdramatically. “This just in! The east bound forty-seven has a major car accident near the sixteen, on top of another minor accident near the nine! Average delays are around ninety minutes!” a voice on the radio started to tune in. A slight groan released from my mouth. Why was it that this had to happen today? Out of all the days of the week, on this particular week on this particular day, why did this have to happen, on this day? I was frustrated and disappointed. I continued sitting in the traffic, as nothing seemed to be going anywhere, as I groaned about getting home. “I really don’t want to do this,” I grumbled as I thought about getting home.
By Jordan Zuniga4 years ago in Fiction
The cave troll.
The cave the troll resided in was a dismal, dank, and dark refuge for the wretched little monster. He sat on the edge of his stool, pondering the choice at hand, considering the proper action. “I have been agitated by these measly little gnats for quite some time. I will deal with them according to their own folly,” the wretched little Troll muttered under his breath. The stench of the cave lurked with sweat and decaying cloth.
By Jordan Zuniga4 years ago in Fiction
"If you can't be good, be good at it."
The sound of rockets began to decrescendo in its volume, as metal foot coverings dropped onto the ground while the fire underneath the metal foot-coverings immediately extinguished. The metal suited character stomped his way lightly on the metal floor, while the sound of metallic doors began to disassemble as the character passed right through. A green light began to illuminate as a floating frequency at the center of a holographic table came into view while the room lights began to dim. “Welcome back, Mr. Steele. I trust the targets were, eliminated?” a voice said from the side speakers of the table. Mr. Steele pushed a button on the side of his helmet, as the front side of his helmet disassembled to reveal a scarred right eye on his face, with a patch on his left. “The target’s have been dealt with, as per your instructions, Mr. Reese. You won't have any more pains on your backside from that end. I also retrieved the schematics for their location, as per your instructions. I trust I’m going to be getting my proper pay, as per usual for the sake of our, mutually beneficial business relationship?” Mr. Steele asked in a light Australian accent.
By Jordan Zuniga4 years ago in Fiction
Covet all for naught.
` It was in the lowest part of the deepest chamber that I ventured to search for which my heart desires. The skittering of spiders and the squealing of rodents sounded as the scent of dust arose as brown specs amidst the cold air, and the taste of decay from time passing was upon my tongue with every breath taken. The light pierced through the doorway which had been shut for so long. I ventured forward ever so slowly, the patience and wariness of what could potentially linger in the darkness in the back of my mind as I reinforced an upright posture. Though a torch burned brightly within my hand, my vision seemed skewed towards the long distance. There, in the center of the chamber, a brazier remained untouched for an unknown length of time. Ever so slowly I approached the brazier, and placed the flame onto the wood of the brazier as it then began to bring light into the room. Lo and behold, a library was revealed from the darkness. Accounts, books, and pages all shelved and organized throughout the room.
By Jordan Zuniga4 years ago in Fiction
A zealous champion, all for naught.
The steps of heavy metal clomping onto the floor thundered on both beat and point, as the armored hunter trailed down the hall. He shoved the metal doors aside as the slam of their impact made his presence known in the midst of his employers. Five throned beings old in years, yet fair in appearance gazed upon the suited warrior, with a grin sliding across their faces. “Welcome back to our private chambers. We trust you were, successful, in your pursuits?” the Elder throned in the center of the five. The warrior kneeled before the elders in respect. “The insurgents were dealt with, as per your instruction, and the voice of the insurrectionists have been silenced, high sages of the five settings. Permanently. What else would you have me do, great ones?” the Warrior requested softly. The High Sages looked at him with a smile of surprise on their faces. Their very eyes clearly spoke of that they were impressed. “He was capable of dealing with the insurrectionists by himself, and was capable of discouraging any future dissent. He will be an instrument towards our vengeance, that much is certain,” the Sage at the center thought to himself.
By Jordan Zuniga4 years ago in Fiction
