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Rachel Kenley Fry

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Dec, 2020

Stories (17)

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190 Followers

73 Following

17 Stories

1174 karma pts

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Three

Rachel Kenley Fry

Submitted to Contest #272

Arthur’s back popped as he bent to pull a carrot from the rich soil of his vast garden. He stood stiffly and looked toward the sun, which was sinking below the horizon. Time to head in. As he trudged slowly toward his hut, the brick walls glowing red from the sunset, he made a mental inventory of work to do tomorrow: hill potatoes, weed onions, and inspect his ten-foot-high barbed wire fence for weak spots to reinforce. Wearily, he punched the 12-digit PIN into the keypad on his door and scanned his eyeball. He sunk into his sole kitchen cha...

12 likes

Blood and Blight

Rachel Kenley Fry

Submitted to Contest #221

CW: miscarriage and graphic imageryThe most vivid memory, but not the first, is of blood. I was told to expect blood, so much blood. I was told that if there was so much blood that, within an hour, it filled a maxi pad and ran down my legs and soaked through my socks, then I should go to the ER, but if it was less than that it was okay. I remember that, because the vision of blood-soaked socks made me queasy—although, to be fair, queasiness was something I experienced regularly then.I was sliding out of my frenetic dream when I had the hazy ...

12 likes

Motherhood is the Neck of the Chicken

Rachel Kenley Fry

Submitted to Contest #188

Otillia “Tillie” Duncan’s favorite part of a chicken was the neck—or so she claimed. I know this because she is my great-grandmother, and though I’ve never met her, I’m fascinated by her life story. Suddenly widowed in her early thirties, Tillie was forced to raise eight children and run a ranch during the height of the Great Depression, by herself. Somehow, she managed it. When Tillie made roast chicken for supper—one, small roast chicken, mind you, for her family of nine—she always exclaimed enthusiastically, “I get the neck! Save t...

15 likes

You've Still Never Seen a Bear

Rachel Kenley Fry

Submitted to Contest #140

“There have been a lot of bear sightings in Valdez this summer,” Brother Gordon explains to your concerned mother, as he loads a rifle into the back of his Suburban. “I just want to be prepared.” You hug your mom goodbye and jump into the van, ignoring her requests for a kiss. The year is 2003, you’re 13, and you can’t wait for your second year of Mormon Girls Camp. “Don’t worry, Mom!” you call as you wave through the open window. “I’ve never even seen a bear!” Outside of a zoo, of course. You spend the five-hour drive to the camping d...

6 likes

Chapters

Rachel Kenley Fry

Submitted to Contest #134

She could not wait to leave home. At nearly nineteen, she could not stand being told what to do by her parents, who were well-meaning, but who nagged incessantly and were, quite frankly, out of touch with the real world. She boarded a red-eye flight, bound for her brand-new life, and watched through the window as the lights of the city faded to black. In the morning, everything would be different. In the morning, the next chapter of her life would begin.She loved college life. She ate take-out pizza at least twice a week and joined an improv...

10 likes

Bad Tea, Good Friends

Rachel Kenley Fry

Submitted to Contest #128

Ava’s dress was not even pretty and the hot chocolate was SUPER watery.That’s what I’m gonna tell my mom when she akses me about the tea party. Pecause really, grown ups think Ava’s dresses are so cute, but they’re waaaay too pink and the sparkles get everywhere. Green dresses are ackshully way awesomer, pecause Merida wears green and she’s the best Disney Princess that nobody even knows about. And this hot chocolate is just like, warm water, but it has some cocoa in it, but really not very much and it’s not really as yummy as when my mom ma...

19 likes

Slow and Steady

Rachel Kenley Fry

Submitted to Contest #125

“It’s got a lot of torque, you see,” Peter Hareman gestured with his hand, as if his brand-new car parked in the office in front of the crowd of his assembled co-workers. “That’s why it’s so fast and, what was it the dealer said? Efficient.”Many of the people nodded, sloshing the punch in their hands as they hung on Peter’s every word. Leo Sheldon, however, turned toward the coat closet.“Leaving so soon?” called out Peter, abandoning the attention of the assembled audience and rushing to catch up with Leo.“Yeah,” Leo drew out the word like h...

12 likes

A (True) Friend for June

Rachel Kenley Fry

Submitted to Contest #116

In the grand scheme of things, it was a minor trespass. I didn’t kill anyone, or reveal a precious trade secret. And, I keep reminding myself, I was a child. June and Bill Hecker were like affectionate grandparents to me. A bonus, since I also had two other complete sets of grandparents close at hand, both loving, attentive, and physically and mentally whole. However, the Heckers took an interest in me without obligation or inherent love borne from genetics. Which, to me, meant I was special. June, especially, made me feel precious. Perhaps ...

20 likes

I Leave the Six Blank

Rachel Kenley Fry

Winner of Contest #108 🏆

(TW: child loss)One is black.My therapist suggested this activity, which I think is a waste of time. I'm not really very artistic.Allie was. I was surprised by how well she could color, for her age, I mean. She didn't just scribble, she chose her colors carefully, she stayed in the lines, she even shaded, sometimes. She wasn't a savant but her pictures were better than other four-year-old kids'. Oh, how I loved her pictures.Making this picture of my own is neither creative nor productive, but I must admit it is oddly satisfying. And it gives...

281 likes

162 comments 162

Blue Christmas

Rachel Kenley Fry

Submitted to Contest #104

“I’m not going. I told you, this year, I’m really not going.”Nick’s voice sounds like it’s coming from another wing of the house rather than from the other side of the door. I knock again, but without waiting for an answer I push open the door.“I’m coming in, I hope you’re decent!” I announce cheerily, and my eyes begin to water. The room smells like sour milk, tobacco and sweat.“Nick?” I walk to the bed, kicking aside food wrappers and clothes to make a path as I go. “Nick. It’s time to get up. Way past time. Come on man.”I reach above my h...

24 likes

Reflections Upon My Death

Rachel Kenley Fry

Submitted to Contest #97

The last sound I heard in life was a soft thump on a window. And I’m glad.If I was a better man, maybe I could say that I wish it had turned out differently, that if I had to die it should have been surrounded by my children, or laying chest to chest with my sweetheart, and maybe if I had planned for Tuesday to be my last day on Earth I could have arranged for it to happen that way, but I can’t change the facts now.Life happens, that’s what I always tried to explain to Kathy; life just happens and we’re along for the ride and what can you do...

27 likes

Ready for an Adventure

Rachel Kenley Fry

Submitted to Contest #96

Wanted: a full-time, live-in nanny to care for twin five-year-old boys in our Manhattan home for the summer. Must be responsible, energetic, willing to work hard, but most of all, ready for an adventure! Serious inquiries only.Natalie heard the door click behind her and let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. She was alone.The room—her room— smelled like fresh white paint. It was small, maybe a ten by twelve foot rectangle, she guessed. Just enough room for a twin bed, a small dresser and a tiny rolltop desk under a window. E...

24 likes

Princess Otilia and the Terrible Idea

Rachel Kenley Fry

Shortlisted for Contest #88 ⭐️

“The only way to take sorrow out of death is to take love out of life.” –Russell M. Nelson Once upon a time, in the kingdom of Slater, there lived a beautiful princess named Otilia. She lived with her Prince Charming, Thomas, and her seven beautiful children. Her world required work and strength, but it also provided her with all the love she needed. Her life was full of laughter and joy, until one day, she was cast from her throne into a new world: a dark, treacherous, underground land called Grief. July, 1934 Tillie sat, gulping, stari...

52 likes

The Developing

Rachel Kenley Fry

Submitted to Contest #83

It’s quiet, beneath. The laughter and joyous shouting of the crowd above is muted by the water rushing in my ears. It’s dark, too, even though I’m only a few feet below the surface, my toes skimming the sand beneath me as a wave surges over my head. A few seconds of stillness and peace.When my head breaches the surface, there is once again sunlight and noise, but the peaceful feeling sticks to my soul like rubber cement. I float on my back, staring at the pale, cloudless sky. I am cradled and rocked gently by the sea. I’m so engrossed in my ...

12 likes

Carver's Will

Rachel Kenley Fry

Submitted to Contest #75

They were going to kill him. Carver knew it, he knew without anyone speaking a word that he only had a few moments left to live. And this time last year, he would have enthusiastically proclaimed that this was exactly what he wanted. Actually, in all honesty, he did enthusiastically proclaim it, many times, to many, many people. “I don’t ever want to live hooked up to machines, like a veg-e-table, y’know?” he’d said, cuffing his sons-in-law on the shoulders. “I mean, if I can’t hunt, can’t sleep with my wife, can’t even feed myself, then...

13 likes