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Katrina Lee

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Feb, 2020

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103 Followers
28 Following

7 Stories

234 karma pts

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Weekly Contest #55

“Is this seat taken?” He asks, hand on the sliding door. Her eyes, framed by long eyelashes, raised, and inquisitive gaze lands on the boy. She shakes her head, auburn tendrils bouncing, as if excited to show off their newfound colors crowned by the slanted sun, penetrating the train windowpanes. The torturous gold on her hair transfixes the boy; his mind is momentarily overwhelmed by imagined memories, imbued with nameless nostalgia—more than a déjà vu. He stumbles forward. The seats’ moquette upholstery groans upon contact with the boy’s w...

18 likes 3 comments 3
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Fragile, unreal, and wildly protective

Weekly Contest #55

The cupcakes are burnt, but she eats them anyway. His arms on the counter a rest for his chin, transfixed gaze spelling out his fascination with her. “You’re like an animal.” He teases. Still, though, opens his mouth, into which she tosses a piece of the cupcake. The melted chocolate leaves a smear on his lower lip. “It is good.” His brows arched high up in seeming mockery, though he finds the cookie—still emanating the nutty flavors in his mouth—genuinely palatable. They always come out wrong, his words; he wants his words to wrap around he...

16 likes 4 comments 4
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Into the Light

Weekly Contest #53

The unbitten popsicle—as a miracle in the stasis of Irisia’s life—melts. Drips of grape syrup on her hand itch like ants, joyously waving goodbye to her teeth and tongue. Irisia thinks the popsicle is happy, icy droplets parting ways with one another, simply because she is happy. Her legs charged with courage, slip through time, ready to complete a long-held mission. The world never seems like a place in which she can walk without being monitored, now she’s attempting to run in it. Shards blossoming from her dreams are what sunrays look like...

19 likes 19 comments 19
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Mother

Weekly Contest #52

>>> “she’s losing consciousness…” >>> The magenta-grey sky terrified her. She didn’t get scared easily; a rock, her unassailable ally lodged inside, the worst of weathers and the greatest of impacts were but a finger’s flick to her. If her skin got scraped, scrubbed, or grated clean away, she was sure the coarse surface would greet her assailant’s eyes. But the purple firmament was rationality, and she, an alien roaming under it. The world was topsy-turvy with a harsh line, purple atop white like cough serum spilling upwards instead of do...

20 likes 22 comments 22
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Gravity in the Mist

Weekly Contest #51

The pain of thought tortured many. He flung himself down in a rickety chair in his dusty apartment, feeling the ghost of thoughts come on like tidal waves—relentless pursuit with a water baton raised until he succumbed and prepared himself for the unceremonious thump of impact, the blow that’d knock him out cold; that was what recalling one’s hurtful memory felt like. He was trying to recall what it had felt like. His exhalation caught in the thorax, never arriving in the realm of existence. Just as he thought he was going to give out and be...

32 likes 9 comments 9
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The Flight

Weekly Contest #51

The birds never landed outside our windows for long. Nor did they stay permanently, build a nest or two in the tiny space behind our electrical water heater. It was as though the instant they approach our red and beige walled apartment, paints peeling off with rust underneath, the birds knew it wouldn’t do for a home; a nest was to be built somewhere they can weather through the seasons with chicks to nurture. The robins, crows, finches, sparrows, what have you, as announcement of arrival, vigorously peck at the windowpanes, closed perennial...

14 likes 0 comments 0
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Captain and I

2018/6/19, Sunny. I think it isn't going to rain for like three, four days. Can’t seem to draw today. i don’t know why but I’ve grown to be scared of my own characters. I created them, but they’re too real. When they come alive on the pages, sitting on the bathroom tiles that was, a memory from childhood. water droplets sliding off the ends of their auburn hair that I See so clearly, I can hear the rhythmic tick-tack, tick-tack, bounding off of cold ceramic walls. They’re thinking...clearly. I’m in their heads. A sigh escapes me. Smelling my...

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