Empty Jars: A Collection of Short Stories

By F.A. Hunt

"Empty Jars" is an artfully constructed collection of short stories that explores the vast landscape of human emotion and experience. This book navigates through joy, tragedy, hope, and a blend of the strange and terrifying, embodying an eloquent synthesis of science fiction, supernatural horror, and tales of love and grief. Each story is a unique vessel, inviting readers into a diverse world of imagination and profound insight.

The book offers a tantalizing array of narratives, from the bizarre encounter at a scrambled eggs station to the riveting stories of hitchhikers, eccentric scientists, and mystical objects. The stories, such as "A World Without Color," "Lost and Found in Paris," and "The Thimble Worlds of Marjorie Bustlebottom," form a rich assortment of imaginative tales designed to challenge your perceptions and inspire curiosity.

"Empty Jars" is an inviting anthology, perfect for those looking for a quick, enjoyable read, without the commitment of a full-length novel. Whether it's to fill a few spare moments or for an afternoon escape in your favorite armchair, this collection of engaging stories is set to become a cherished addition to any reader's bookshelf.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Jun 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9782536951520

Book preview

Empty Jars

A Collection of short stories

F.A. Hunt

Inkwell Press Publishing

Copyright © 2023 by F.A. Hunt

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

ISBN: 978-2-5369-5152-0

First Edition: 2023

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

Published by Inkwell Press Publishing | Los Angeles, CA

inkwellpresspublishing.com

Contents

Dedication

Preface

1. Empty Jars

2. A World Without Color

3. The Wind That Shakes the Barley

4. Hive Mind

5. The Deadline: A Final Descent into Madness

6. Behind the Walls

7. The Window View of a Contemplative Mind

8. The Whispering Oak's Secret

9. Beauty in Resilience: A Masterpiece of Self-Love

10. The Bird Caller

11. Abandoned Amusement

12. The Keeper of the Wasteland

13. Getaway

14. The Bridge Between Worlds

15. Lost and Found in Paris

16. Sanctuary of Captivity

17. Madness in a Music Box

18. The Room at the End of the Hallway

19. Last Kiss

20. The Plant Whisperer

21. Peeling Paint

22. Groundhog Day

23. The Crimson Crescent

24. Echoes of Unspoken Words

25. Unsettling Fusion: A Tale of Neurological Ambition

26. The Thimble Worlds of Marjorie Bustlebottom

27. Highway to Graceland

28. Chucky's Pizza

29. Beige

30. In Dreams

31. The Arrangement

32. The Acquisition

33. The Door to Yesterday

34. Extraordinary Chronicles of Ordinary Things

35. End of Everything

36. The Boy

37. Party Animal

38. Box 1229

39. Beyond the Veil

40. For Father’s Journey

41. The Climb

42. I remember

43. Stronger Roots

44. Pretty Sisters

45. Room for One More

Acknowledgements

About the Author

For my husband, Scott-

The hero every story wishes it had.

Preface

Welcome, dear reader, to the collection you hold in your hands — a compilation of my dreams, reflections, and snippets of imagination captured in words. Empty Jars symbolizes the countless untold stories of our lives, waiting to be filled with memories, emotions, and experiences.

My journey with short stories started with a pen in my hand and a storm of ideas brewing in my mind. I realized the power these brief narratives hold. They are the moments of clarity amid chaos, an epiphany amid uncertainty, a lingering afterthought from a fleeting memory. These tiny vessels of fiction pack within them entire worlds — distilled to their essence yet bursting at the seams with human experience.

Each piece in Empty Jars is a story I've cherished and nurtured over the past year. They explore a gamut of themes - love, loss, joy, sorrow, the whimsical, and the profound. Even though each tale is brief, it is its own universe, unique and complete, offering you a lens into the varied aspects of our shared humanity.

Creating this collection has been both a challenge and a delight.

The challenge: to chisel every sentence to perfection, to imbue every word with meaning, to leave enough unsaid for the imagination to flourish.

The delight: to witness the birth of a world within a limited word count, to see characters come to life in fleeting yet memorable instances, to know that each jar, no matter how small, can hold something precious to the reader.

In essence, Empty Jars is more than a collection of stories. It is a conversation between you, the reader, and me, the writer. It is my hand extended, holding out these small jars, each brimming with a piece of a dream, a shard of memory, a slice of life. I offer them to you with the hope that you will find in them reflections of your own experiences, emotions, and perhaps even unvoiced thoughts.

With every jar you open, I invite you to explore these tales that are as brief as a breath yet packed with the unexpected. Feel the emotions, explore the possibilities, and let your imagination fill in the blanks. I hope these stories delight you, make you ponder, catch you by surprise, and sometimes even frighten you.

So here it is. A piece of my heart, a sliver of my soul, bottled up in these empty jars. I can't wait for you to unseal each one, and in the process, maybe discover something about yourself as well.

Happy reading.

Empty Jars

Every day, the jars multiplied. They crept like a slow plague, populating the shelves of my home, their emptiness echoing in my bones. What once contained vivid colors of fruits and vegetables now lay barren, their labels like tombstones, marking the death of my ability to feel.

On Tuesday, I awoke to find three new jars. They were neatly lined up on the counter, their vacuous interiors taunting me. I stared at them, feeling a profound sadness that seemed as impossible to define as it was to ignore. I wrapped my fingers around a jar, tracing the embossed logo, the feel of the glass rough against my fingertips. I cradled it close to my chest, whispering apologies to the void within.

The conflict wasn’t with the jars but my failure to fill them.

My therapist suggested I attend a meeting. It’s for people like you, she’d said. People who struggle with emotional numbness. I didn’t want to go. The idea of sitting in a room with others, the air heavy with sorrow, filled me with trepidation. But the weight of my jars pressed on me, and I feared the day they would suffocate me entirely. So, I agreed.

The meeting was held in the basement of a church. I found it ironic that we were relegated to the darkest corner of a place meant for solace and hope. As I descended the stairs, the echoes of quiet sobbing reached me, and I hesitated. But something – perhaps the desperate need for understanding – pulled me forward. I entered the room and took a seat.

At the head of the room, a woman stood with red, puffy eyes. She was holding a jar, its emptiness reflecting mine. I can’t fill it, she wept. Every time I think I’ve found it, it just... disappears.

Everyone else seemed to empathize, nodding their heads in unison. Next to her stood a man in a suit, his face lined with the pain of untold years. He clutched a jar to his heart as anguish trickled down his cheeks. ‘My sweet darling wife of 50 years has left this world. All I feel is frigid emptiness, and I have nothing more to pour into this jar."

A young girl rose, her eyes wide and lost. She held a jar filled with only air, and her voice trembled as she spoke. My brother... he’s gone. He’s using again, and I haven’t slept much. I can’t move on until I know what has become of him. I tried to fill this with things he loved but it remained empty.

One by one, they shared their stories. Each person stood, their heartache palpable, their jars a testament to their emptiness. And as I listened, I realized I was not alone. These people, like me, were suffering from a crippling numbness that loomed over them. They, too, searched for a way to fill their jars, to find meaning in a world that seemed to have left them behind.

A World Without Color

Through the window, sunlight filters into the room and casts a brilliant glow dancing across my blanket. I inhale the cool morning air and listen to the outside birdsong. But even when I open my eyes, something seems strange. The world has lost part of its beauty as if something were missing.

I quickly look around the room, taking in the plush cushions on my bed, the artwork on the walls, and the flower arrangement on my nightstand. Everything blurs and fades, like a dissipating dream. I must think briefly before I realize you are not here. The weight of your absence subdues everything which was once lovely.

The heavy fog of your absence suffocates my thoughts and emotions. Getting out of bed is difficult.

I face myself in the bathroom mirror. The unrecognizably pained lady who is looking back is carved with lines. I haven’t met her before, yet I already know her well. Her suffering is my suffering, and her desperation mirrors mine.

I am losing strength daily and eventually won’t be able to stand by myself. I sink to the ground, trapped with my counterpart in the mirror. We have no way out; we are adrift in a sea of agony.

The Wind That Shakes the Barley

There was a time, not too long ago, when the fields surrounding our quaint