Natasha Arnold

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Nov, 2019

Stories (18)

18 Stories

472 karma pts

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“Tea or Coffee” by Natasha Arnold

Submitted to Contest #40

“How would you like to start this?”Five minutes sober, Phineas sat with his head hanging low, his sloppy wet hair trickling from the rain. Earlier that morning, he had planned it perfectly: arrive at the meeting no later than 7:25 while refraining from the horrendous introductions. But finding the spotlight on him, it seemed that he had missed the mark.The quiet, cold church walls remained still as Phineas formed his words, carefully picking them. Anxiously, his hands rubbed together, his dilated pupils staring downward. Fortunately for...

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“This Was Living” by Natasha Arnold

Submitted to Contest #39

The day I was diagnosed with cancer was the first day of the rest of my life. Ironic how I say that, only having eight months to live.“It’s terminal,” each of my doctors said with little regard. I’m fairly certain one of them chuckled. The doctors strongly advised that chemo might have prolonged my life a bit more. My life would consist of countless blasts of radiation and violent episodes of sickness rushing through my veins, ripping my insides out from within. Towards my latter days, I would be cooped up in a hospice while on oxygen, my or...

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“Kačo” by Natasha Arnold

Submitted to Contest #39

Freckled with the dirt from the eroding terrain, B’dyni leaned towards the skies as her mother braided her hair. As the sun waned, The Great Omo blessed the village with an abundance of stars, canopying over their horizon. B’dyni marveled, her chocolate eyes twinkling in bliss.  Without warning, her mother quickly tugged against her braid. B’dyni squealed, “Mei!” Her cries were not answered as her mother’s thick fingers lathered her hair in clay. Earlier that morning, B’dyni ventured to the Omo River to gather enough clay for the villag...

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“The Southpaw Guitarist ” by Natasha Arnold

Submitted to Contest #38

Dashed by the heavy rainfall, a chestnut-haired boy boy made his way inside before being trampled by the hail. He slammed the door behind him, which would have been much to his Mum’s disapproval. Completely soaked, he ran his fingers through his hair and shook it, although leaving his soggy boots on.There was mischief in his eyes, a smirk growing underneath his lips like moss grows underneath a window pane.Scurrying through the corridor, the child ran around with water dripping behind him, leaving a trail. A sweet giggle laid underneath his ...

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“Persephone's Coin” by Natasha Arnold

Submitted to Contest #37

Huddled beside a radiator at the cinema, there were only two things on your mind: Joaquin Phoenix and a taxi cab. Your hands scurried in your pockets, pushing past the lint and left over nibbles of cookie dough. It always seemed like you had just the right amount of change. There was just enough change to get you a taxi to Grand Central Station, where you could take the Q32 to Harlem. And there maybe, just maybe, some bright-eyed Harlem girl would take interest in you and bring you inside. Harlem girls were always the pursuers. You’re b...

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“Dinner at Mother Ehts” by Natasha Arnold

Submitted to Contest #37

The Thin Thickets roamed wherever they saw fit. From the valleys to the hills, canyons to the mountains, these fuzzy creatures could be found at every corner. Thin Thickets were stunning creatures. Scholars suggest that Thin Thickets were the first creature to exist, floating in the Universe until reaching Earth. A human could easily mistake these as specks of dust or freshly picked cotton, it truly depended on their size. They came in a variety of colours from pink, blue, grey, and peach. Most would adapt their colours to match their surrou...

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“From Past to Eternity” by Natasha Arnold

Submitted to Contest #22

Death had a name and it was Grace. Death was a bright blonde girl and was adorned in a blue dress. She paid Clarence visits frequently, but rather than whisk him away, she would sit at the end of Clarence’s bed, smiling gently as Clarence’s dying breath gasped underneath his oxygen mask. Clarence could see her from the corner of his eye, but whenever he would spare a glance, Grace was gone.  But it was only time when the two would lock eyes and Clarence would be no more.  It was New Years Eve. Much to Clarence’s heartbreak, Grace h...

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“The Escapist Society” by Natasha Arnold

Submitted to Contest #20

The spotless lamb slumbered into silence.  A pale blue teacup had pricked the pure lamb red. Gushing blood soon followed, streaking through the evening, bleak sky, and pitter-pattering down the cobble road. The little, pretty dying one did bleed, and never before had his shepherdess which it had been her own. Eloise Clary, the shepherdess, would have stained the countryside black if given the choice. In curses and tears, she cried out to the skies for her own life to be taken. The winds were her sole answer. If she had not loved the lam...

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“행복한 꿀벌 (Happy Bee)” by Natasha Arnold

Submitted to Contest #19

Dribbled with milk and cookie crumbles was a list. This list was crumbled deeply into Rea’s pocket, stuffed between a used tissue and keychain. On her list was scribbled:  아빠를 위해 (for Dad),행복 (happiness)진정한 사랑 (true love)직업 (job)...cheerios ( ˙꒳​˙ ) Burrowed deep in Daehakno Seoul, Korea was eight-year-old Rea. It was noon time when Rea gained the courage to adventure across the streets. Crowding the street was a herd of business folk, taxi-cabs, busses, tourists and construction workers. Each had their own journey to adventure, whether...

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“Fake-adryl” by Natasha Arnold

Submitted to Contest #19

Snuggled in between his throw pillow and heated blanket, Sheldon was content. It was 4am after a tiresome day of Sheldon’s battle for social justice, usually in the form of Facebook arguments. Whether it was orphans, immigration, environmental care, or gay rights, Sheldon was always at the front lines. With quick wit and fierce typing, Sheldon would respond to vile posts written by “degenerate scum”. Among many things, Sheldon would be an outspoken voice against buying animals. Whenever he would see someone post about their new pet, he would...

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“Tuesday Evening, 8 P.M.” by Natasha Arnold

Submitted to Contest #19

6. December 1992 Stowe, Vermont When the Prodigal Son stumbled back into Holland’s Holiday Cards, Rosco’s dreams of managerial status were dashed. Rosco didn’t anticipate Richard Holland’s return; in fact, Rosco was mildly surprised to hear that Richard wasn’t dead underneath a bridge from an overdose. Richard and Rosco were as polar opposite as men can be. Both men were classy, but Rosco earned his class and Richard was born into it. Although Rosco wasn’t a Holland, he was informally adopted by Mr. Kingsley Holland, the founder of Holland’s...

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“The Ghost of Winter's Past” by Natasha Arnold

Submitted to Contest #18

With a rusty crowbar at hand, Link pried at the boarded-up door. With every creak, it was as though the house had become aware of its itself. It eeked in pain, the spirit of the house free to cry out after centuries of torment.“There there,” Link muttered to the cabin, “Take it easy, I won’t hurt ya.” Once more, Link pried at the door again. As he did, the wind whistled through the crack, bringing the faint laughter of children. Link could smell the air. No longer did it smell of Mom’s fresh pies and Ditto’s stinky dog breath, but ...

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“Persephone's Coin” by Natasha Arnold

Submitted to Contest #18

Huddled beside a radiator at the cinema, there were only two things on your mind: Joaquin Phoenix and a taxi cab. Your hands scurried in your pockets, pushing past the lint and left over nibbles of cookie dough. It always seemed like you had just the right amount of change. There was just enough change to get you a taxi to Grand Central Station, where you could take the Q32 to Harlem. And there maybe, just maybe, some bright-eyed Harlem girl would take interest in you and bring you inside. Harlem girls were always the pursuers.  You’re ...

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“A Calistro Thanksgiving” by Natasha Arnold

Submitted to Contest #17

With the jams of Oasis playing in the back, I snuggled contently in my weighted blanket. Thanksgiving was going accordingly. Tucking my knees to my chest, I placed my sketchbook in between that area where my belly fat rolls in on itself. Fortunately, Disney Studios didn’t need any sketches until next week. But still, I was prepared for a spark of inspiration to strike me.  Opposite to me was Todd Richard, my roommate. Even though it was a holiday, Todd was frantically working at the kitchen table. Todd works in accounting for an upstart...

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“Beta Casseopeiae” by Natasha Arnold

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #17

Kept within the bounds of time and space, Ezra could not escape the impending doom of Shabbat Dinner. His hands clenched tightly to Tziviah’s arm, his gentle, hazel eyes gazing towards the family home. His sandals scuffled across the field, his wife leading him towards his worst nightmare.  “Zussya and Mordechai have been keeping Abba busy,” muttered Tziviah, opening the front gates, “After the wedding, Mordechai hasn’t stopped looking for a wife. But it’s Levi that Abba should worry about… He’s nearly twenty-two!”  A gentle wind b...

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Author bio

A casual author, specializing in historical fiction -u- I'd love to do some collabs with you!

Shortlisted 1 story ⭐️

Contest #17
Beta Casseopeiae – read story