Christina Marie

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jan, 2021

Stories (27)

27 Stories

2537 karma pts

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“Betty's Window” by Christina Marie

Betty turned 95 yesterday.She gazes out at the grey March morning and tries not to think about how old that sounds.She tries not to hope for 96.Her window on the third floor of the Glenview Manor overlooks a barren snow-strewn field, lined by tired fence posts and spotted with scrubby shrubs.It’s not an exciting view, but it’s a view, and she’s grateful for it—there are many residents across the country that aren’t as fortunate.A few weeks after movi...

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“Jack” by Christina Marie

Time was meaningless in her sad sarcophagus of self-confinement.Liv had no idea what day, month, or season it was when her mother, Lydia, arrived at her door without notice. Or maybe there was notice. Liv hadn’t checked or charged her phone in hours, or maybe weeks. After Jack’s accident, the calling of well-intentioned friends eventually sputtered silent. The check-ins and chin-ups chattered themselves out. The thoughts and prayers moved on to other tragedies.But Liv was caught i...

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“Grief: A Study” by Christina Marie

I do not understand death.No—my apologies—that is inaccurate.I know death is a natural conclusion to every individual living organism, in which all biological functions that sustain said organism cease to function, prompting the process of decomposition. This can happen organically with aging or illness, or it can be inflicted early—as it was upon you. When your Kia was struck by a much larger truck and rolled off the highway, you were wearing the armor of youth fabricated by your...

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“Homecoming” by Christina Marie

Stiff in starched green, Daniel returns home alone on blistered feet. Stately elms line the lonely road, their twisted arms reaching up to the pink sky in silent salute of his unexpected return. His left ear rings. The doc says it might go away, or it might not. He knows it won’t. He’ll hear the ringing until the end. Just like the screams. Just like the whistles that foretell flying limbs, flinging mud,...

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“Kisses” by Christina Marie

I was under the impression that first kisses were meant to be magic.I had been led to believe that the long-awaited lip-lock would be witnessed by a star-spangled sky at the top of a stalled county Ferris wheel, or cheered on by roaring crowds at the end of a victorious football game.I had been deceived into thinking that I’d be tangled up with a brooding boy whose cruelty was a shallow façade masking a kind soul, or that I’d be wrapped up in the arms of a letterman jacket way above my own social standi...

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“Grandma” by Christina Marie

“Let’s play a game.” Grandma pushes aside the flyers and coupons littering her kitchen table to make space for the yellowing cribbage board—a brittle piece of plastic molded into the number 29.I collect the dishes from the coffee and stale cookies she’s been saving for my visit and place them in the sink. Using the crocheted rag that always hangs over the faucet, I douse the cups and saucers down with soapy water and rinse and stack them in the drying rack. Despite our persistent pestering, there’s still no dishwasher.

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“Tea With Aunty” by Christina Marie

Your tea is tolerable? Can I get you anything else? No? Good. You’ve come to ask Aunty about Baba Yaga. Sit. Sip. Have a biscuit. I will tell you what I know, but you mustn’t be upset with me when you hear it. Promise? Very well. Do not be fooled. She has chosen the façade of the homo sapiens species, but she is not one of us. Ancient, cunning and cruel, Baba Yaga is the world’s first wi...

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“Shadows” by Christina Marie

The wind the last few days had been relentless, endless, spearing from all directions. It had ripped and whirled and twirled and screamed through the valley, bringing with it stinging rain and icy sleet. But today…today it is still, and the sudden calm crushes her heart with fingers of stone. High in the hills, standing behind the empty house, she gazes across the fjord and tugs her tatt...

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“Life's Leftovers” by Christina Marie

It took us almost two months to comb through dad’s house, sorting the pieces of his unpursued passions into piles. Keep. Sell. Donate. Trash.He didn’t have much in the way of food, but cookbooks in mint condition spilled out of his kitchen cupboards. Mystery novels were stacked neatly on his bedside table, suffocating under layers of dust. Princess Di’s biography and Stephen King’s The Shining lay face down on the coffee ta...

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“The Last Man” by Christina Marie

Beside the crumbling remains of the Trans-Canada Highway, between the ghost town of Banff and what was once one of the most photographed lakes in the world, rots a cluster of forgotten chalets.Long ago, when money mattered, it cost up to as much as six or seven hundred dollars per night to claim the keys to these coveted log cabins. Rustic and charming, nestled in a grove of towering pines, they welcomed travelers from around the world at a time when the park buzzed with tourists, like millions of ants, swarming the pris...

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“Break-In” by Christina Marie

Carol stood on the front porch waving, watching taillights disappear into the dark through the first fat flakes of November. Marmot had received an early dump of snow this year, and Dan and the kids had been eager to hit the slopes. With winter’s opening act forecast to fly in fury across the prairies overnight, she had tried to convince them to wait until morning to make the four-hour drive. Dan insisted it would be bet...

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“Practice Makes Perfect” by Christina Marie

Should say and should’ve said haunt and taunt my every wasted exhale.I revolve in a stationary spiral under the scalding spray of my morning shower – my daily rehearsal – setting steely intentions for the day ahead. Today I will speak with confidence. I declare this out loud with gusto to my shampoo bottles, having recently read an article about the power of positive thinking. Words like ‘stutter’ and ‘stupid’ and ‘forget’ still scuttle around my skull, but I refuse to give them a voice.While I...

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Author bio

Finally putting pen to paper (or digits to keys) after many long years of thinking about it. Here to learn, grow and have fun!

Winning 1 story 🏆

Contest #78
Life's Leftovers – read story