Kristi Kisielewski

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Mar, 2020

Stories (7)

7 Stories

130 karma pts

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“A Simulated Chronicle of Simulated Chemicals” by Kristi Kisielewski

Submitted to Contest #82

"Louise," said one of the schoolboys, "how do I find the radius?"She considered answering, but the question was too easy. He should know that himself. "I'm more than just a calculator, you know.""Yes," said a voice from behind her. She turned to see the teacher, now taking a step past her. "Louise is more than just a calculator, Ethan, and you should know the radius.""Louise," Ethan repeated, smirking, "how do I find the radius, if the teacher never taught us how?"The teacher never taught them how, but they were years beyond that level of sc...

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“Delusional Eccentricity” by Kristi Kisielewski

Submitted to Contest #57

There were beads of sweat dripping down her face. The pen kept sliding out of her fingers, dropping on the paper, and she would pick it up again. Her hand was trembling, shivering, as she scratched out nearly illegible words.I remember her kitchen tap was broken, and there was a slow, steady trickle of water. Drop after drop. The tap leaked in rhythm with my aunt’s hand, as it reached the bottom of the page and tried to grasp another piece of paper. It dripped in rhythm with the words. It dripped to the same rhythm as the pen, every time it ...

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“Across The Sea of Stars” by Kristi Kisielewski

Submitted to Contest #39

A girl lays on the lush green grass, pigtails splayed out to the sides of her head. She holds her arm outstretched, hand grasping an old, dirty teddy bear. The park’s lamp shines white light on her face, glistening on her lips and in her wide eyes. Her loose plaid blouse makes small waves in what little hot breeze there is.         Above her, a world of the unknown. Dots of white cover the sky, spread out across horizons. The moon looms above the far line of her sight, still small and far away.&nb...

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“Everywhere I Am” by Kristi Kisielewski

Submitted to Contest #37

The first time I notice her is at the market. I’m running my weekly errands today, gathering what I’ll need to eat. As I stroll through the isles, they seem eerily emptier than usual. There seems to be more air.My basket is getting heavy, which means I should be ready to leave soon. It’s tugging my arm down, so gently, but I can feel the weight like a magnet to the ground. A woman, standing behind the cash, rings me up when I’ve finished. In all this empty space, it seems like we could be the only two here.I read once that everyone has red i...

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“Of Course You Don't Know” by Kristi Kisielewski

Submitted to Contest #36

To no-one.April 3, the middle of the night It gets too hard to handle sometimes, I swear. I could feel it, tugging at me, but I couldn’t open my eyes.It didn’t have a physical form. It was just a force, just this slight pulling sensation, and I wouldn’t have noticed if I wasn’t looking for it. I know that I’m just making it up, I get that. But the shadows play tricks on me, and sometimes it’s like I’m stuck in the head of a child. No, not stuck in it, but I just have the mind of a child. I’m too scared about what’s not real to worry abo...

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“Like Broken Glass” by Kristi Kisielewski

Submitted to Contest #35

The alarm goes off, it stings, it pierces my mind, it hurts. It’s too early.The siren stops, the clock ablaze, but no, that’s only in my mind. Only in my mind. The clock has done its job today, that’s all, it’s just doing its job.So why do I feel so dreary then, why do I feel so pained? It’s because the clock’s gone back, that’s all, the times have turned. I’m weighed down by sleepiness, pulled into my pillow by desire. No, I can’t, I have to get up or else, I have to get up.But what is this? It can’t be. A dream, that’s all, it’s just a dre...

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“Voices” by Kristi Kisielewski

Submitted to Contest #34

I sweep my hand under the couch, but all I pick up are dust bunnies. I mutter some nonsense to myself, because I have no better way to complain when I’m alone. It’s like I can feel the dampness hanging in the air; I can smell the mist inside of this room. The thunder claps again, and I jump. Out the window I can see the fog, hanging in the air. It’s like it just decided that this was the place to be; it certainly doesn’t seem to be going anywhere. It creates a sort of creepy setting, too, because there isn’t any rain. There’s only fog, ...

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Author bio

hopeful teen.