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Kathleen March

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jan, 2020

Stories (388)

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388 Stories

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Heart-Shaped Peppers

So much has been written about food, and in another life I’m sure I was, or could be, making a living through food. I could have been a photographer of exotic markets with exotic fragrances and myriad colors, where you could taste the air. Maybe the next time around. I left part of my heart in a little place called San-Antonin-Noble-Val in the Tarn-et-Garonne department in Occitanie. Even the British ex-pats in that town didn’t ruin my photographs. Maybe the next time I could be a travel writer who focuses on food. Not just fine dining, be...

3 likes

Rambling Snows

The first snow of the season always surprises me, although because I live in the north, the snow always arrives, sooner or later. It’s different if it comes in the early morning than if it comes at night. At night, the flakes give the impression that they are concentrating very hard on the ground, trying to erase the spiky green-brown of the lawn. They concentrate so hard, it seems they’re trying to penetrate the frozen soil, trying to dig into it, bury themselves. Of course this never happens. I’ve seen many first snows, but am not sure i...

4 likes

The End

It’s so tempting. I really like the idea. It’s logical. It makes a lot of sense. I really want to do it. The big question is not why, but how. It’s the how I can’t get a handle on; the reason is quite clear, at least to me. I know, I know. When a person needs to make a life-changing decision, or take a step forward into uncharted territory, nothing should be done lightly. After all, one misstep and all the effort would be for naught. Naught means zero, nothing. I have never liked doing things that are useless or worthless (which might be the...

1 like

It Takes Two

I’m a translator. Some would call me a word engineer or a language architect. I’m not being flippant; it’s other people who use those terms. I just say I’m a translator, but not literally. Most people don’t get the point; it’s an in joke. Well, I had to do something after retiring early so I could see the world! Which I did, in a way. Speaking in a more professional tone, which is the one I should by rights be using here, I will tell you that I spend most of my working hours translating. From Galician to English, to be specific. It’s not...

3 likes

Can’t Sleep

Can’t sleep… can’t sleep… oh why does this happen to me?Tickticktick of a heart somewhere near or far. I only know it’s a heart ticking because of something I read…. Oh, Edgar, I would have loved you more… than her. You would not have had to write about your nightmare. You didn’t mean to, I know that, but your heart, the one you had to write about, is my obsession too. And my eyes won’t close because the sound clicks like clockwork and I cannot bear tiny, repetitive sounds. It’s not a condition, a disorder. It’s just that they drive me nuts....

2 likes

The Page

I’m a work-study student at my university. That isn’t unusual in itself, since almost every campus has dozens of students working in all the buildings and departments. The hourly pay isn’t great, but the money really comes in handy and it’s very convenient to work right where we have classes. The jobs make for good contacts with faculty and staff, which can result in decent letters of recommendation. We also might have opportunities to discover some of the inner workings of groups on campus. Those bits of information can cover a range of thi...

2 likes

Guidance

There is a bookstore in town that is known for its oddness, although it’s surprising how few people even know it exists. It’s not the only one, but it’s the strangest. For one things, no hours are posted anywhere. The owner just sets up a sign with an arrow on Maine Street. The arrow points up a street perpendicular to Main; it’s one way, going in the direction opposite the sign indicating there’s a bookstore nearby. The sign attracts only the attention of foot traffic, however.  That is fortunate, because there’s no sign for the book...

4 likes

Su casa es...

Not mi casa es su casa —- I never say that because it's in Spanish or Mexican and turns out too kitsch when it’s inserted into a conversation in English. It's as if they think the user were showing off his or her Spanish, all five words of it. With only five words, you're going to reveal far more than you can hide. But if you want to go at it, to discuss big things in a big way, let's go out in the parking lot. We'll see then who knows the most Spanish!This story I’m going to tell you is serious, though. By calling it serious, I mean it actu...

4 likes

Raising Hell

The topic of discussion was for the course that was titled:  Myth and Truth.  ENG. 444  Fall 2020, 2021, 2022, etc. I was there as a journalism major, so I'm in a way reporting on my own class, sort of autobiográphical, isn't it? I thought maybe you'd like some realia from the class? You know, so you can pay better attention pr pay attention better. Following is an excerpt from the syllabus (professor's name redacted) that was distributed. SYLLABUS November 19 Real Exam or Warm-up? You will form 4 groups of equal num...

2 likes

Fear Not

She had spent so long, so many years, thinking about him. She was afraid to tell him, though. Not afraid of what he had written or might write; afraid of what he might do. No, that was wrong; she wasn’t afraid of what he might do. It was another reaction that she feared: it was what he wouldn’t do. To put it more clearly: she was scared that he would say nothing and would then just walk away, as if he hadn’t heard her or as if she didn’t matter. As long as she said nothing, she could hope. It was the classical situation where one decided to ...

3 likes

No Stars

It looked like an inviting place for supper. And it was still open, despite the rather late hour. There were several of us and we were ravenous, ready to devour anything edible. I grasped what looked like the handle of the door, not thinking much about it, with my rumbling stomach. It was original, I thought: it went across the whole rectangular opening and was flat and thin, with some words on it that I didn’t stop to read, obviously. There was a group of hungry bodies behind me.Once we were all inside, it started. Before it was over, I was...

5 likes

Camouflage

I’m not going to deny it: the first time he walked into the classroom I wanted to punch his lights out. No, that’s not really true. It’s only a figure of speech, because I don’t think anything could force me to hit someone in the face. Still, I knew instantly that I wasn’t going to like him, that already I didn’t like him. As a professor, that reaction to a student is unprofessional and can’t be justified, most people would say. I suppose I ought to explain.He didn’t have a chip on his shoulder and he hadn’t said a word yet, but I knew from ...

6 likes

The Code

I confess. I have some rather dark impulses. Since we're here in this little tavern or bar or mesón and there's nobody listening, I'd like to confess. You can decide whether I'm a menace to society or a hero. Please, I'd be grateful for your input, and even for your help. However, I hope you won't report me to anybody. My heart is in the right place. Let me order another coffee and I'll explain. What are you having? Another of the same? So... there are two things that really bother me. A lot. Let me explain and then I'd appreciate your adv...

6 likes

The Art of Travel

I met him at a book presentation in one of the larger bookstores of the city. I don't usually go to the big chain suppliers of books, but my friend Anastasia had invited me. She had just published her third cookbook and it looked like it would be the most successful. The first book had been called East Coast Cooking: From Maine to Maryland. The second one had been Celtic Fare, Then and Now. The third one, the one just out, had quickly made it to the top of the nonfiction titles and was Secret Ingredients, Secret Poisons.  Obviously t...

5 likes

Stay… just a little bit longer

Nature's first green is gold, Her hardest hue to hold. Her early leaf's a flower; But only so an hour. Then leaf subsides to leaf. So Eden sank to grief, So dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay    ~ Robert Frost Frost felt right at this hour, on this day, in this place. He was that kind of poet: his lines simply popped into one’s head every so often. He had other poems like that, as did Carl Sandburg. Women poets of the same time were thinking about other things and the cadence of their verses wer...

7 likes