Isabella Krieg

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Dec, 2023

Stories (4)

4 Stories

91 karma pts

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“My Best Friend” by Isabella Krieg

Submitted to Contest #253

When I was younger, my best friend was a boy I went to preschool with. He lived about a block away from me, and his parents would always throw pool parties and barbeques in his backyard. It seemed like all the kids in the neighborhood were there for birthdays, July 4th, and just a good time. He had a seesaw that looked like an airplane and sat four people, some sort of symbol of the possibility of the future.Our other friend was a girl named Victoria. They were both a year older than me, but that never mattered. The way we spent our time in ...

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“The Art of Deception” by Isabella Krieg

Submitted to Contest #252

I've painted him over a dozen times. I guess this is what true love feels like. With each portrait I believe I get closer to him, knowing him both personally and physically. I know the exact degree his eyes turn down, and the angle at which his eyebrows arch. I know the color of his skin at the tip of his nose, and the exact shade it turns once it's dark. I understand the way his hair falls over his face and how it blows in the wind. I know how to capture his curled lip when he tells a lie, and I know the secret he hides. Each portrait I thi...

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“Grace” by Isabella Krieg

Submitted to Contest #238

At my aunt's East Village apartment, my little brother sat by the window to document each car passing by. "Black car, blue car, yellow car, yellow car, yellow car," "Sounds about right," my aunt chuckled. She took a sip of tea from one of the mugs she made in her pottery class. This one was red with white daisies painted all over. I took a sip from the one she painted in blue and white stripes. "White car, yellow car, yellow car, red car," We were visiting my aunt so that I could pick up the birthday present she had for me. Seeing her after ...

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“My Father the Artist” by Isabella Krieg

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #236

It had been sitting on my kitchen table for about two months now. It slowly cemented itself in place as unopened letters, shopping catalogues, and magazines slowly piled around it, until only my face was left, reflecting on the small part of the screen which was still visible. After Mom died, I took the computer along with boxes of other things without really thinking. It completely slipped my mind that it needed a password until it was already in my possession. I knew it at some point, but it must've gotten lost somewhere along my time grow...

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Author bio

19, living in New York City since 1970

Shortlisted 1 story ⭐️

Contest #236

My Father the Artist – read story