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Leon Porter-Johnson

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Aug, 2023

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30 Followers
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34 Stories

449 karma pts

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The Body

The room was beige, from the walls to the ceiling, which held a spinning fan that seemed liable to fall and kill someone at any moment, to the beige carpeting. Greg wondered if maybe the fan had fallen and he had descended to some type of beige hell. Regardless, there were seven people in total in the room (including me and the doc). An older, Caucasian woman with large, circular glasses and thin towheaded hair. A young Asian woman with freckles and raven black hair. A middle aged man of burly build. A college aged man, maybe around the same...

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Seasons in Change (Chester Hoffman and the Search for Grey Jackson)

The cool cat was named ‘Jimmy Blue’, partly because his name was Jimmy, and partly because he was still a fan of ‘Blue’s Clues’ at the primeval age of thirteen. After a break in a couple years back, Jimmy’s parents invested in a home security system, which is just what Chester needed if he wanted to find Jackson. The only problem was: Chester had egged the Wilson’s house last Halloween, not knowing at the time that they had cameras at the ready. Chester was dragged by his mother the next morning to apologize, as well as offer his services in...

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Hansel and Gretel

Part 1: Should you return again "Well, well, well,” croaked that old and unholy voice. "Look at what the cat dragged in." Gretel was enveloped in darkness, light suddenly assaulting her as the pumpkin she hid herself in was torn open. The Cat-Sith, who went by Rags, dropped the blade he held and pulled Gretel onto the sugar stained floorboard. "Why do you persist?" The Witch asked, stirring a cauldron that bubbled like sulfur. "Your brother is being well taken care of. Why do you want him to struggle like you? Out in the woods, hungry and c...

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The Cabin

Weekly Contest #332

CW: Some sexual content Part 1: The Storm My husband is a cold and indifferent thing; try as I might to understand him, I never will. A nebulous cruelty he is, a perpetual and eternal albatross. I call him a secret name to myself, "that raven on the window ledge." This is partly due to his seemingly fixed state of forever being the observer, and partly due to any involvement he does choose to intact being associated with metaphorical death or rot of some sort. When he feigns interest in me, or maybe it is genuine, who can tell anymore, drea...

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Seasons in Change (Chester Hoffman at Thirty-Three)

Weekly Contest #330

CW: Some language and drinking Note: Wrote this as a companion piece to a few other stories posted here, but this is intended to be enjoyed as a standalone story. Chester Hoffman, now aged thirty-three, stood half cast in shadow from the dusking sun, split equally under the doorway, one foot slightly out and the other in. Faint and hushed chatter reverberated, but didn't speak coherently, and instead was akin to static. "Chester," Chester's mother, Rebecca Erickson said, coming next to him. "Chester honey, I'm heading out now. Are you...are ...

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The Apollo - A Millennium Vertere Story

Weekly Contest #316

CW: Some sexual content and mention of suicide The meteor had passed the moon, estimated time to earth twelve hours. It is seven miles wide, and hurtles through the vast ebony with great ferocity. All the tinkering of man, all his built and gathered wisdom, it cannot stop it. I stand atop Mount Everest, the air frigid, and cold, my mind knows, but my face barely feeling anything. That which I do feel I suspect to be a placebo. I gather all my might, all my energy, and ascesnd like lightning, or something quicker, into the atmosphere and soon...

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Quebec, Colorado

"No, don't touch that", is what Andrew heard when his fingers grazed the cover of the Archie comic he fancied. A horror themed one, Archie and the gang battling a cult. Andrew turned to Laura, fingers still hovering above the comic. "I'm barely even touching it, I'm just lookin-" "Lookings how they get you", Laura replied, taking the phone from her ear and looking at the screen. "Goddamnit, I know Matt's there." "It could be he just doesn't want us", Andrew replied, attention returned to the rack. "What? Why would you say that?" Andrew shrug...

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Dogs of the Eastern Plains

CW: Some violence. The dog is above all loyal. It seeks not only purpose, but comfort and reprieve from the human. It is restless, and violent, at all times ready to maul, or to hunt, or to butcher. The dog is a predator. The dog is a protector, and will fight tooth and nail for that which it claims as its own. In this way, one can say that the dog belongs to the human, and the human as well to the dog. Kings and prophets will plead in scripture, "oh lord, deliver me from the power of the dog." Yet the dog remains. A caravan of Gypsies trave...

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John One Twenty-Two - A Millennium Vertere Story

Weekly Contest #312

The following is an excerpt from Gilbert Hoffman's new book, 'The Man and the Machine", the section itself an excerpt from a piece published by The New Manhattan Tribune. The Man and the Machine is set to be published next year, August Third, nineteen forty-three. "Test, test", Gilbert said with a slight smokers cough, the feedback reverberating in the mic. "Alright, seems we're good. Our interviewee is John One Twenty-Two, known by his friends and co-workers simply as John. John, introduce yourself." "...what is the purpose of this?" "Well,...

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Seasons in Change (Chester Hoffman at Twenty-Eight)

Couple's who figures were interweaved together like tapestry levitated across the tile, swaying gently to the music that played from the stereo. It was a slow music dance, and Chester Hoffman, age twenty-eight, was no slower dancer. Prone to anxious movement, and also having lanky, long legs, he found himself lingering around the open bar. He briefly thought if people might wonder if he's an alcoholic (he was), but three Old Fashioned's in, he started to care less. "Manhattan", Harry said, approaching the open bar, stopping a few stools down...

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The Spiritualist

Our tale of woe and awe began on the tail end of the winter solstice, December twenty-second. The Manitou Springs landscape, from small town roads that seemed like sidewalks more than streets, to the mountains and small houses tucked into them like a child in a mother's arm blanketed in white snow. So pristine that even at the zenith of darkness, there was light. Inside one such house, Mary Miller, matriarch of the Miller family, began to stir.Two days before even this, however, the children of Mary, four in total, had come from their variou...

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Phantoms Which Rode Upon the Wicked Winds of the Western Plains

Weekly Contest #277

CW: A brief section of graphic violenceBased on real events, though certain elements have been dramatized or changed for narrative purposes.After the end of the civil war, where brother had fought against brother, and father scorned son, the country had finally come to a dwindling simmer, unsure of how to proceed or what happens next. States once mighty and prosperous now lay at the feet of ruin, and a new world for all gleamed on the horizon. Arkansas, which had benefited greatly from slavery, now lie destitute, a great portion of its popul...

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The Haunting

CW: Some swearing and drug useThe Hoffman house, which sat nestled between towering and ancient Douglas fir trees, lay behind a creek which ran a little over a mile. Come summer, it was often tradition for the Hoffman children to play in it, speeding down on boats and prancing around in floaties. Come the summer of '03, just a couple years before my passing, Ned, at least I believe his name was Ned, my nephew, or at least who I believe is my nephew, fell off his boat and almost drowned, thereby ending the tradition. I observe it now, an...

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The Hot Black Obsidian

CW: Violence The winding Boulder roads wrapped themselves like a serpent around the mountain, its covering thick forest which concealed it from the few stars and full moon which hung in the obsidian black. Daniel was driving fast, why, he wasn't sure. All he knew is that he was being followed. Eyes glancing every other moment at the rear view mirror, on the third look, Daniel could swear he saw a levitating fire in the black road behind him. It was cold, but perspiration covered his face like gloss. He continued driving, not sure of his des...

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Salamander

CW: ViolenceThe storm was bad. In fact, it was terrible. Rain  falling from the sky as if an onslaught of arrows from a great and terrible legion. The wind howling through the night air as if alive and malevolent, seeking to pry apart the stones and bricks that shielded man and draw him out into the tempest.Leonard's carriage threatened to give in to the threat, a few times Leonard swearing he felt his carriage begin to lift. His horses neighed restlessly, and it took near all his might (which wasn't much, Leonard being a man of ra...

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