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Kristin Johnson

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Sep, 2021

Stories (14)

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31 Followers

22 Following

14 Stories

353 karma pts

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Formal Wear and ESP

Kristin Johnson

Submitted to Contest #250

Inside the glittering museum gala, Lila Tinker fidgeted with her floor-length blue ballgown. Thanks to her work as a receptionist at an art gallery, she’d snagged an invite to the social event of the year, and she hoped it would add some excitement to her life. No date, but she had a killer dress from one of those rent-a-gown places.The dress covered up the scars from the accident, for which she was grateful. Snagging a cocktail that smelled like the tropics, she wandered out into the well-dressed crowd, ready to mingle—and to find some face...

11 likes

Shakespearean New Year's Resolutions

Kristin Johnson

Shortlisted for Contest #231 ⭐️

HAMLET1.    Finally answer the question of "to be or not to be."2.    Kill Claudius, forsooth.3.    Finally go to Wittenberg for art school.4.    Convince Ophelia to run away with me to art school.5.    Whatever I do, do not fight a duel with Laertes.6.    Avoid getting involved in pointless wars.7.    If I see my father's ghost, seek a grief counselor.HAMLET'S FATHER'S GHOSTConvince Hamlet to avenge my ...

28 likes

Black Unicorn

Kristin Johnson

Submitted to Contest #213

“Is it real?” the woman asked, looking at the shaggy black unicorn sitting outside the rusted gates. “I touched it. It’s a statue, but it’s covered in fur,” the man said. The statue was a weird touch, but then, Auroch Manor was weird despite its appearance as a respectable pre-WWI stately home with a long narrow meandering driveway. The man, Dr. Scott Packer, late thirties, pulled back overgrown shrubbery from the sign that read: “AUROCH MANOR HEALTH SPA--WHERE WELLNESS BEGINS.” Scott pulled his lab coat close around him to protect agains...

20 likes

Daniel's Letter From Heaven

Kristin Johnson

Submitted to Contest #212

The sky is gray and rainy in Palm Springs on the street. A mysterious envelope descends. Daniel Wilson, 11, carrying a school backpack, counts off on his fingers as he points to the raindrops.  The other children look at him and shrug: "what a weirdo." The letter falls onto the sidewalk. Daniel's schoolmate Maria, 11, cute, picks up the letter and looks at the writing, then holds out the envelope to Daniel. "Take it.  It's got your name on it aaand...it's poison!" Daniel takes the envelope and sees the name "DANIEL" on...

8 likes

THE TASTE OF HUMANS

Kristin Johnson

Submitted to Contest #210

“Do you know what I like best about eating humans?”The Silkenskin smiled at me, its voice soft and melodious and full of death in some lesser-known underground caverns near the cave of Lascaux.  The place where Silkenskins had landed.I considered the Silkenskin’s remark progress in our encounter. An hour ago, the Silkenskin didn’t even acknowledge me, except to say, “Get out of my bed.” The pile of material like satin sheets I knew to be its shed skin apparently qualified as a bed.I reached out and casually touched the translucent ...

15 likes

Goat-Man's Bridge

Kristin Johnson

Submitted to Contest #209

A/N: Trigger warning. This story contains character deaths. When you leave this campfire tonight, don’t take Goat-Man’s Bridge on your way home. Four teenagers found this out the hard way. They were out, bored with all their usual activities, and one of them dared the others to drive to Goat-Man’s Bridge so that the two couples could make out and lure the Goat-Man out of hiding. Legend has it that Goat-Man attacks couples that kiss on his bridge and shine a flashlight. Even people who haven’t seen Goat-Man have heard his scream on the ...

14 likes

Round the World

Kristin Johnson

Submitted to Contest #208

I listen to the audio in my head. “All is new. All is bright. May you have dreams of newness tonight.” It’s the constant loop from the State NEW Agency. Nation’s Eternal Watch.  Is this America anymore? It’s hard to tell. We have had so many different names since the revolution. And each time we reset history. I vaguely remember a few fragments of the old history. There was the Civil War of 1945. We declared independence from French Guiana in 1812. The Assyrians gave us culture and literature and democracy, whatever that is...

13 likes

Ayeba the Huntress Retires

Kristin Johnson

Submitted to Contest #208

Fictional characters never retire. Ayeba the Huntress, twenty, glared at the unfamiliar blue room in which sweet soothing music played and blossoms filled the air with their scent. She fitted an arrow, carved from hartwood, polished with a nine days’ finish, to her bow.  “Where am I?” This did not look like the rolling meadows of her home planet, Or’yan. Or the metal machine-domes that displaced swaths of trees from her jungle home. These machine-domes, with people that crawled in and out like bees or ants, all carrying their metal...

4 likes

Jumping Off the Diving Board

Kristin Johnson

Submitted to Contest #190

Note: Written with input from Taylor Swift superfan Kathryn Berenbaum. “Speak now, or forever hold your peace,” the preacher said. I stood frozen in the back of the church looking at the man of my dreams dressed up in a tuxedo that he probably rented. The girl beside him, in the super-frilly bridal gown, didn’t know that he probably rented the tux because he just would have wanted a nice suit. Or his best pair of jeans. He certainly didn’t want three hundred people and eight bridesmaids that he had to pretend he cared about. All he wante...

11 likes

Dog Kingdom: The Wayward Princess

Kristin Johnson

Submitted to Contest #176

NOTE: This is a chapter in a longer work. Berna Longtail, puppy-in-waiting and royal tutor to Princess Flora, never ventured into the human world.  The moment her paws touched the sidewalk, she stood and sniffed the air.  So many different scents! Her nose wiggled all over in confusion and she couldn’t sort out one smell from the other. Too many! The human food with its aromas that went right to her tongue and her stomach until she panted with hunger and lunged at one of the morsels of food held by a human on the grass. She t...

9 likes

RoadHawk

Kristin Johnson

Submitted to Contest #170

The roadrunner always knew she wanted to fly.Since the first time her talons touched the human sky-road where the metal birds flew, she knew she wanted to fly like the metal birds. Away from the desert heat. Away from the coyotes and the bobcats, and definitely away from the snakes. And the humans.But she couldn’t fly on her own.One of the metal birds sat on the human sky-road. It looked far bigger than any bird ever grew. She wanted to fly inside the bird. Then she could soar above all the other desert predators. Including the hawks that sw...

10 likes

And Your Meet Cute Is...

Kristin Johnson

Submitted to Contest #167

Ms. Loren studies the questionnaire.  “Where would you like your meet cute to happen?” “Oh, definitely someplace unusual.” Ms. Loren glances at a menu of options. “Accidental crashing into each other at the coffee shop is our most popular option.” Emmy shakes her head. “Then everyone will be bumping into each other in my favorite coffee shop. Think of the craziness. Hard to get to the counter and order a latte.” “Well, no, because everyone will choose their favorite coffee shop.” “True. Is that really the most popular option...

8 likes

Ayeba The Huntress Retires

Kristin Johnson

Submitted to Contest #151

Fictional characters never retire. Ayeba the Huntress, twenty, glared at the unfamiliar blue room in which sweet soothing music played and blossoms filled the air with their scent. She fitted an arrow, carved from hartwood, polished with a nine days’ finish, to her bow.  “Where am I?” This did not look like the rolling meadows of her home planet, Or’yan. Or the.metal machine-domes that displaced swaths of trees from her jungle home. These machine-domes, with people that crawled in and out like bees or ants, all carrying their metal...

13 likes

Daniel's Letter From Heaven

Kristin Johnson

Submitted to Contest #112

The sky is gray and rainy.  Rain pelts down, and suddenly, an envelope descends. Daniel Wilson, 11, carrying a school backpack, counts off on his fingers as he points to the raindrops.  The letter falls onto the sidewalk. Maria, 11, cute, picks up the letter and looks at the writing, then held out the envelope to Daniel. “Take it.  It's got your name on it,” she calls out. Daniel takes the envelope and sees the name "DANIEL" on it, but he can't read the rest of the writing though the rain. Maria smiles. “That...

10 likes