Bex Jordan
Bio
They/She. Writer. Gardener. Cat-Lover. Nerd. Always looking up at the sky or down at the ground.
Profile photo by Román Anaya.
Bluesky: @umasabirah.bsky.social
Stories (90)
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The Alley
Jana had taken this alleyway hundreds of times. She knew every trash can and twisted fence. The shortcut would save time, leading her far from the street (where she faced cat-calls and inappropriate offers that made her shoulders shrink). The alley was her ally, her quick path to sanctuary.
By Bex Jordan3 years ago in Fiction
Enough
Dear B, You think you were a mistake–an attempt to fix a problem you didn’t even make. That’s a lot of weight to put on the shoulders of a babe. You thought you didn’t Matter, that your own world could shatter so long as you could see that everyone else was happy. That was your Purpose. That was your Reason for Being. But you can’t fix people's feelings, and you can’t love them into believing, and so you kept failing over and over and over and blaming yourself and ignoring the little voice inside while you tried to hide your truth. You kept searching for the proof in a puzzle you were never meant to solve, in spite of your resolve.
By Bex Jordan3 years ago in Poets
Up to Nature
The mirror showed an image that wasn't my own. My head swam as I felt my heart stutter. My reflection in my mother’s vintage hand mirror was…wrong. She looked like me–she had my same wavy brown hair and sad hazel eyes (which twinkled with an unfamiliar mischief). Her lips, however, were curled in a sinister smile I knew I did not wear.
By Bex Jordan3 years ago in Horror
Violet Ends
Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. Avery tilted her head to get a better view of the swirling world above her. Her long violet hair reflected the colors that rippled overhead. She casually glanced at the sparkling stars which signified her impending and rapidly-approaching doom.
By Bex Jordan3 years ago in Pride
Unbound
I wore a binder for the first time today. I know it may seem like a small thing if you've never been uncomfortable in your own skin, but I've always seemed too big, too much, too many. Went to an AA meeting, a restaurant, out for a stroll, and had to weave myself around straight (passing) couples who take up the whole sidewalk–I guess they may not know what it's like to hide, or I wonder if they're insecure, unable to let go of the hand that proves their status quo. I understand that impulse, the urge to blend in with society, with 'normalcy.'
By Bex Jordan3 years ago in Pride
