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Kailani B.

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Aug, 2023

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41 Followers
24 Following

12 Stories

425 karma pts

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A Heated Discourse

We are forged in fire. Destined to live short lives, we fight until our strength is gone and we fall, legs crumbled and heads cracked.  I stare out at the field of my brethren. Or what remains of them. Bits and pieces lie scattered, the ground slick with our blood and smashed weapons as the men were carried away and eaten. I sniff the air and scowl. It’s sweet: sickly sweet with the smell of our burned flesh.  I turn to my aide. “What news from Chip?” The smoky air chokes me and I cough. “Re-enforcements will be here soon,” my ...

14 likes 18 comments 18
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A Sail for all Seasons

“Come on, Dexter! The car’s packed and ready!” “Mom,” the little boy moaned, pulling sullenly at the sailboat’s oars. “Can’t I go around one more time?” “You’ve had the whole summer, sweetie,” the mom stopped at the water’s edge and crossed her arms. “Dock the boat and let’s go. Your father wants to be home before his conference call.” “Fine,” Dexter hung his head, secured the oars, and furled the single sail. The sail wasn’t doing him any good today with so little wind on their corner of the lake, but it always made him feel like a pirat...

13 likes 14 comments 14
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Hearts Aflutter

Weekly Contest #237

Crumbs fall at my feet. I peck at them, searching for the softer bits. It doesn’t taste right and I briskly wipe my beak on the ground. I strut off in search of other offerings, but so far only stale crumbs and rancid seeds litter the stony ground.Leaving the open area, I wander over the uneven grass, pecking at any potential spot. I only find seed shells and things that might have satisfied me, but are now covered in ants. I raise my beak at the uncivilized spectacle of the ants and take flight, landing on a cold, damp twig. I ruffle my fea...

33 likes 35 comments 35
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Down Among the Dust

The dust covered his boots. They said it must be like walking through snow, but the elders often talked of things that no longer existed. Safe in the ships exploring the galaxy, they had no real idea what their homeland had become after decades of blight, storms, and the very land cracking open to release noxious gases and unnamed creatures. Only desolation remained, every green thing scoured from the surface, all water boiled away.  He stepped up on a rocky outcrop to study the path before him. Jagged shapes and crevices protruded f...

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One Cold Night

The Stranger walked the fog-covered streets of the town. Orbs of fire grew and sharpened into street lamps and The Stranger’s breath billowed out to join the fog. From another street, the night watchman called the hour and rang his bell. No other soul traversed the cobbled lanes and only a cat might’ve heard The Stranger’s cane tapping its even rhythm. The Stranger had no destination, no set path. But the warmth of happiness pouring from the homes to either side of The Stranger would entice any traveler into tarrying a little longer. ...

12 likes 14 comments 14
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Potatoes Are for Peasants

Weekly Contest #226

Cashmere is a sign of success. Or so I tell myself as I stand at my aunt’s door, a potato casserole gripped in my hands. “Knock ‘em dead,” my roommate jokingly told me as I’d exited our apartment. I suddenly wish I’d brought her for moral support instead of the spuds. I press the doorbell again. Augustus, my cousin, opens the door and glares down at me. “Are you coming in?” he says it like he’s been holding the door open for an ungodly amount of time. “Hello to you too,” I say and enter the marble foyer. I thrust the casserole in...

29 likes 25 comments 25
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On Cobbled Streets

Traveling first-class seemed like a good idea when I booked the ticket.I just got a raise, my boss gave me with a corner office, the coffee tasted better, and the chairs had lumbar support. And as a further bonus, my boss wanted me to go to Winton for additional training. But now I huddled in my assigned seat, hands gripping the complimentary blanket while I stared at the fish through the windows.I thought first-class was exclusive. Like, you didn’t have to socialize with anyone. But when I refocused my eyes to see the glass’s reflectio...

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For the Love of Poultry

“What do you think about this?” I held up the ragged shirt for inspection. Pumpkin, the russet-colored hen, continued pecking at the ground. “You’re right. It looks terrible.” I flopped back on the ground and laid an arm over my eyes. “How do I gain entry to the castle if I look like a peasant?” I heard Pumpkin scratching at the dry ground and when I peeked at her, saw the hen rustling deeper into the pit she’d created, fluffing her feathers and turning on her back, the dirt flying out around her. “Where am I supposed to get bett...

10 likes 12 comments 12
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Cornfields and Plovers

Weekly Contest #220

“Bad times are a myth.” That’s what Maya always told him.The two of them often spent summer evenings discussing deep subjects while sitting on his back porch steps, slurping root beer floats and staring out across the knee-high cornfields.Maya, ever the dreamer, assured Evan that no matter what happened, nothing could ever be bad. It just might not be what you wanted. So long as you wanted everything in life, well, what could ever be bad?Evan, a staunch pragmatist, insisted that everything in life sat on the Scales of Justice. One side held ...

23 likes 21 comments 21
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My Time in Dently

Weekly Contest #219

I’d never before considered murdering someone. The idea that I might know who deserved to live and who must die always struck me as arrogant. What marked someone as valuable and just, or waste and immoral, and who among us could rightly make the call? No no. Leave the moralizing to the philosophers and let me never wonder how you might become a prisoner, one of The Others. But that’s what I was now: a captive in a small cell, one of The Others, a deplorable aspect of society, stripped of my old luxuries of gourmet coffee and sleek cars. ...

29 likes 17 comments 17
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Buried Burdens

Weekly Contest #217

“Sir, you must choose someone soon.” The magician—aged, slightly arthritic and most definitely bald—stared balefully up at the king’s steward. Grabbing his cane and levering himself up out of the quite comfortable chair, the magician said, “No,” and trudged away to his overflowing table, grabbing a tattered book and opening it, swirls of dust issuing forth. The steward huffed out a breath and joined the magician by the table, staring out the window opposite at the rolling farmland and toiling serfs. He looked down at the bent figure th...

7 likes 4 comments 4
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Gravel and Glass

The house is closed most of the year. Spring summons a torrent of bugs and great gusts of pollen, in the summer the smothering heat keeps any potential visitors at bay, and in winter, though the barren tree limbs lend a picturesque tinge of desolation, the cold invades every room and wall until it becomes colder than the land itself.But autumn, that much awaited and all-too short season, brings out the best in the old brick house, a cornucopia of seasonal delights that always tempts lonely travelers to explore the dilapidated and unkempt pla...

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