Kai Dalcassian

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Apr, 2020

Stories (4)

4 Stories

63 karma pts

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“Stories and Lives” by Kai Dalcassian

Submitted to Contest #48

Everyone has a story. The man at the bus stop, checking his watch over and over again. The clerk at the grocery store, forcing a grin all day long. The kid sitting in the back of the classroom, scowling at everyone. The old woman working in her garden, smiling sadly at a bed of roses. Individual threads in the woven tapestry of this world, heavy with the weight of what has come before and what they fear will happen next. I can see all of it. The thoughts and the fears, the befores and the to-comes. Everyone has a story, and I can read the...

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“True Love's Kiss” by Kai Dalcassian

Submitted to Contest #42

The five of us ride relentlessly through the rain, ignoring the incessant drizzle that is a nuisance to horses and humans alike. There’s no sound except the clop of the horses’ hooves and the steady drumming of the rain on my metal helmet. I don’t mind the silence. We gave up on talking a few miles back, leaving us to do our best to ignore the damp and the cold. Prince Simon rides at the head of our little group, proud as always, trying to keep some of his precious royal dignity about him. Right behind the prince is Adric the Strong, his bul...

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“The Mabreet” by Kai Dalcassian

Submitted to Contest #41

I was four when my mom told me I couldn’t have a guinea pig. Or a mouse. Or a hamster. I was distraught for about ten minutes, and then she told me to go play outside, and I got distracted.I was poking holes in the ground with a stick when I saw it. Not a mouse, or a rabbit, or any usual creature. It wasn’t even remotely recognizable, but I knew what it was. The word just sort of popped into my head: mabreet. It was a mabreet.I picked it up off the ground and held it cupped in my hands. It was small, like a mouse, but so much softer than any...

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“Breathe With Me” by Kai Dalcassian

Submitted to Contest #40

It’s almost one in the morning, and I am sure that I’m dying. I can feel it in my stomach: that twisting, shrinking, grasping feeling that means that something is wrong, something is very, very wrong. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to think of something -- anything -- that will make me feel better.  Techniques, what are those techniques… what would my therapist say? Try breathing, right? I take in a breath, hold it, let it out… but my heart is still racing, and my stomach is still shrinking, and something is still very, very, wrong. My ...

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Author bio

Kai loves the way words fit together, and can't imagine living without them. One day, Kai would like to write a book, but first, practice is a good idea.