Ingrid Johnson

Author on Reedsy Prompts since May, 2020

Stories (5)

5 Stories

106 karma pts

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“Adrenaline” by Ingrid Johnson

If you’d have told me 20 years ago I’d be spending my Friday nights driving people to parties, dropping them off and driving away again—I probably would have shown up to my classes. I glance at my last passengers of the night in the rear view mirror. There are two of them, both giggling as one of them holds the phone in front of her friend’s face. She has a tube of bright red lipstick in her hand as she focuses on her ma...

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“Oranges” by Ingrid Johnson

Orange. Orange. Orange. Your eyes glaze over as the fruit tumbles along in front of you. Your hands are expertly spinning and squeezing each one as they drift past, which you think is odd considering you’ve never done this before.  Not far to the right, you can sense a familiar presence: your mother. From your peripheral vision, you can tell she’s working hard and keeping a good pace, better than she should...

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“The Edge of the World” by Ingrid Johnson

Trigger warning: Suicide references.Henrick closed his eyes. The sun warmed his cheeks as a cool breeze blew back his hair so it danced freely in the wind. His hands, so tense a moment earlier, laid limply by his sides. The air was salty, yet familiar at the same time, triggering a sense of nostalgia in him. As he stood there, on the edge of the world, he let himself be taken back to all those sunny afternoons he’d spent with his sister, Nour, exploring the rock pools that laid far below. <...

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“Just A Bit Quiet” by Ingrid Johnson

“Why didn’t you ask me if I wanted to come?”“Well, I didn’t have to. I knew you wouldn’t,” my sister said as she perched on the stairs to double-knot her shoelaces. “I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of this. You hate both crowds and rustling people’s feathers. Remember last week when you wrote that strongly worded letter to your school principal? What was it doing in the wastebasket?”“It had served his purpose,” I said defensively. “Obviously I never intended to send it. Anyway, of course I’m interested. Yo...

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“Fragile” by Ingrid Johnson

I was 10 years old when I killed my first butterfly.I’d been out on the balcony, my mother standing overhead wrestling with the hair clippers, when it perched itself on the railing beside me. My mother was occupied, her back turned. So I watched it.It’s beauty was distracting. Wings of black and blue. So calm and trusting. Perfect. The patchiness of my hair felt, suddenly, unimportant. For a moment.Black and blue. It was beautiful for that moment. So beautiful, I didn’t want to say goodbye.I reached for the jar...

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Author bio

Definitely a dog person. Also goats, cats, elephants, quokkas and sloths.