Kate Ashton

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jul, 2020

Stories (14)

14 Stories

363 karma pts

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“Nightlight” by Kate Ashton

Submitted to Contest #97

Kenzie peeped out the window, the white curtains encircling her dark hair like a halo. The building sighed under the battering wind, and dark clouds swirled in the night sky like vultures while the rain clawed at the cool glass. I propped my head on my hand, blowing the stray hairs out of her eyes. She didn't blink when my pale fingers brushed her cheek, tracing her scar. She was intent on watching the storm outside the window. Lightning flashed, illuminating her in ethereal blue light. "I'm here for you." I breathed the words in her ear. Th...

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“Tiny Fires” by Kate Ashton

Submitted to Contest #77

Deep in the pine forest and over the foothills of the mountains, a log cabin persisted. It appeared quaint beneath the towering trees, but, upon closer inspection, it possessed a weathered dignity. Half a dozen chimneys protruded from the steeply slanted roof, and they held a certain prestige despite their crookedness. The wood walls were dark with lingering moisture from a century of rain and snow, and dripping icicles adorned the eaves. It didn’t have electricity or internet service or any of the modern conveniences people rely on, but tho...

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“Decision-Maker” by Kate Ashton

Submitted to Contest #70

"You have to make a choice." My knuckles are almost as white as the marble counter they clutch. I stare deeply into the mirror, unable to see myself in it. Inside the pristine glass, I see two people, two friends. I know that I am the one speaking, but they are presenting the demand. I've known these people for so long. They've been there since, well, forever. Yet the two remained separate, two worlds divided. I've kept a foot in both worlds, but my grip is failing. The gravity of their importance to me has drawn them together, and soon they...

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“Grey Area” by Kate Ashton

Submitted to Contest #69

I know something is wrong as soon as my mom walks into the kitchen. I gently scoop up my cat, Peaches, as a little fuzzy gift for her. "Hey!" I clear my throat, knowing that my tone is far too high-pitched to fool her. "Hi, Alice." Her arms are wrapped around her. Mom tries to meet my eyes, but her gaze only finds the floor. Okay, I think. So she's not going to tell me what's up. "Is everything okay?" I transfer irritated Peaches into her arms, my head spinning with possibilities. "Yeah. I just got off the phone with..." She sucks in a s...

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“Untrue Love” by Kate Ashton

Submitted to Contest #67

༺CLARA༻ Clara Forbes snuggled up in Parker Ambrose's lap, a soft smile on her face as she read her favorite novel. The study was cool, but she didn't feel the chill while she was in Parker's arms. Clara mouthed the words slightly as she read, trying to make the scene more entertaining. The thought made her chuckle. Clara couldn't really see the appeal, but 70% of the viewers did. Apparently, she was cute when she read quietly to herself. She giggled softly, marveling at how gullible Americans are. Parker tucked a finger under her chin, mak...

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“The Angel in the Orchard” by Kate Ashton

Submitted to Contest #65

Everyone knows about trick-or-treating. Everyone has an embarrassing photo of themselves as a child wearing some preposterous outfit. Except me, that is. I grew up without Halloween. I'm a sixteen-year-old girl, and my name is Amber Roux. Where I used to live, it was far too cold by October to go outside. By then, snowdrifts had shut our door. But, due to unforeseeable circumstances, I am taking my little cousin, Emmy, trick-or-treating in humid Florida. Mosquitoes stick to my skin, managing to bite me through the thin fabric of the cheap a...

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“Counting Crows” by Kate Ashton

Submitted to Contest #64

There was a sickening finality to the crunch of gravel beneath the taxi’s tires as it drove away. Don’t leave me here, I mentally begged, but the driver couldn’t possibly know that he was leaving me stranded here. I shook off the lingering sense of foreboding as I marched toward the Gothic manor, dragging my luggage behind me, but maybe I have multiple personality disorder or something because my mind was split. On the surface, I was thinking about mundane things like whether or not the chefs at my new school will scramble the eggs or ...

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“Waste of Space” by Kate Ashton

Submitted to Contest #62

The two men dug the grave with sturdy shovels composed of pure gold. They wore bulky but expensive white suits smeared with red dust that was not coming out in the wash, but it was better than freezing to death in the endless rust-colored desert. The taller one paused from the hard labor to wipe the sweat from his forehead only to swipe pointlessly at his reflective visor before realizing what was happening with a heavy sigh. The shorter man heard him over his comms unit and laid his shovel in the rust-powder soil. "It could be worse, Nath...

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“Day at the Beach” by Kate Ashton

Submitted to Contest #61

I clamber out of the faded blue Toyota on stiff legs and trip almost immediately. My swan dive plunges me dangerously close to the sizzling-hot asphalt, but I'm laughing despite nearly faceplanting to my demise. I'm clumsy under normal circumstances, but, intoxicated by my lack of sleep and a surplus of giggles, I'm a threat to national safety. Watch out, Americans, or I might trip on you! I hear Landen slam the passenger door shut, scowling. He folds his arms across his chest and stares at me chidingly. "Rose, get a grip. We can't have you...

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“I am Sharp” by Kate Ashton

Submitted to Contest #60

A distant wolf mournfully howls its sorrows, and I am suddenly aware of just how dark the horizon has grown while I walked. Some old and forgotten habit begs me to pull my hood over my head in response to the eerie baying, but I know that would only impair my range of hearing. So I let the hood of my sweatshirt flop against my backpack, but I don't quite pull my fingers away from the thick fabric. I bask in the sensation of remembrance, no matter how distant and vague, but I do not press the feeling for exact memories. I know from experienc...

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“On the Rise” by Kate Ashton

Submitted to Contest #58

Everyone has that one person in their life who claims to be claustrophobic then makes a big deal out of it when it’s time to ride the bus and demands to sit by the window. Yes, we all know and tolerate them. I won’t go into detail about how much this action aggravates me, especially as a person whose friend is factually claustrophobic. She isn’t lying. I’ve seen it firsthand. I met Alexis Harlen in the elevator at the apartment complex near Vanderbilt. We were both carrying immense amounts of luggage, probably nearing the maximum weight ...

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“My Favorite Charity is Me, Thanks for Donating!” by Kate Ashton

Submitted to Contest #56

I strutted through the swanky party in clothes I didn't like and acting like any other snobby guest attending the gala-of course, these cocktails were for a fundraiser. Not at all just an excuse to flaunt how much money the attendees possessed and how "refined" their taste in everything was. That would be scandalous. Absolutely rude! I shook myself from my thoughts, wiping away my scowl and replacing it with a cultured smile-not too much teeth, but not too much lip. I also pushed my other kind of lip aside. I would make no friends by insult...

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“The Eternal Summer of Somner” by Kate Ashton

Submitted to Contest #53

Kids waited in lines for a refreshing ice cream cone from a sweat-drenched vendor, only for their long-awaited treat to melt in the cone. I licked my parched lips, feeling thirst well up in my throat, and I greeted it like an old friend. From my hideout in the crook of the slide at the deserted playground on an near empty avenue, I tried to peel my perspiring skin from the plastic play-set. Halfway through the sticky ordeal, I gave up, slumping back into the sliver of shade. I contemplated trying to find a building whose air conditioning was...

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“The Waiting Game” by Kate Ashton

Submitted to Contest #49

Gabriel tapped his foot in time with the ticking of the clock, like the pulsing beat of time was the only song he heard. Where is she? Lucy was late again. Gabriel glanced at his watch, though he knew exactly what time it was. He always did. 10:17 A.M. and twenty-three seconds. Of course, his continued inward recital of the time did nothing to hurry Lucy’s arrival. By now, he had been waiting in that barren office for thirty-two minutes and twenty-three seconds. Gabriel was a patient and down-to-earth man, whereas Lucy never brought her head...

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Author bio

Aspiring author and avid reader who loves nothing more than a good hike and dreaming the days away. Okay, maybe strawberry cake makes the list too...