R. K.

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Sep, 2020

Stories (7)

7 Stories

4492 karma pts

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“sea witch” by R. K.

My first love was an ocean blue sky It’s been too long since I’ve drowned a man. Now my heart is paying the price. This one has an idiotic grin and I know the moon is struggling to wash him in silvery light. His heart quivers against my fingers, like a baby sparrow in my cupped palm. Delicate, vulnerable, and so painfully alive. Wild as the sea and sweet as a lie My song travels through the darkness, in waves of both sound and water. Unseen bandages of fatal melody...

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“1000 stories” by R. K.

"The girl whose heart was winter melted into the ocean," The water felt like glass. It shattered where it met the shore, like so many broken bottles. Fae liked how it cut sharp X’s into her skin and pecked cool O’s on her neck. She lay supine on the border where the sea diluted into the sand, drifting at the edge of parallel worlds. The stripe separating them was frothy and poorly drawn as if scribbled by a child with peeling crayons. Maybe that was why the waves had no sense of boundary, spilling outside the lines....

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“the people who are wolves” by R. K.

Your fingers would not be enough to count all the things you would want to try. It’s why you would have created a bookshelf deep inside your mind with ledges made of shallow ambitions and bookends sculpted like wolves blowing kisses to the moon. Sometimes you would sit and close your eyes, running your nails over the intangible books labelled with all your abandoned hobbies, an uneven skyline of neglected ruins. And there they would remain stacked, shivering under cardigans of spider silk and blankets sewed from shadows. The...

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“Lights ” by R. K.

Ⅰ. Picture Alaskan snow and meteors that drop like baseless promises and dissolve away like morning kisses. The sky is indigo and crooked, leaning right into tomorrow, and Raphaela is tracing cold hearts of ice into the windowpane with her nails. Not the romantic ones shaped like clovers that rip into tissue paper halves, but the human hearts that quiver and bleed and only last a fragile lifetime.The stars are falling, but Raphaela isn’t wishing. She’s praying. While looking past the whit...

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“Pinocchio ” by R. K.

“Make it quick.” Sunbeams seemed to print railway tracks across her skin and her lips were crunched into a trainwreck of half-truths. She was facing away from me, but I knew her lashes were curling into ferns and viridescent eyeshadow covered her lids in a collage of leaves and sea glass. “Tell Clark to come to the funeral,” I told her. Sage tilted her head as if she could set the world offbeat with her eyes. “Why should I tell him?” “Because he’s your brother.” “He’s your fri...

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“Kites” by R. K.

He steals things most people won’t notice. Wishes on pennies from fountains. A delicate second here, winks of sleep there. Small things, it’s how he lives. But he’s never needed to steal from you. Because you would gladly drop your unwanted memories into his cap and walk away feeling new. In fact, every time you leave his bench, you never look back.The weather is sticky, with a mild chill — not uncommon for January in Alabama — and you tie your hair into a knot to keep it from dipping into your shoulders. Johannes is where he alway...

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“Heartbeats” by R. K.

The beach will be small. But somehow, it’ll be enough. Two lonely strangers will tumble over its coast like driftwood into the clutches of low tides. Deep within their rib cages, their hearts will be crumbling sandcastles, awkwardly patted together by the children they once were.The woman will stash sand dollars into her coat pockets, saving them to play checkers later with her daughter. There'll be scallop shells wreathed into her hair. The man will have plastic wrinkles melting from his eyes. Years will be carved into his face, m...

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Author bio

ru loves blackout poetry and women in STEM and nights spent alone at home with city lights streaming through obnoxiously large bay windows (call it ambiance, if you will). and kitkit. that stuff's the shit.