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Natalie Frank

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jan, 2020

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184 Followers
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17 Stories

597 karma pts

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The Art of Reading Eyes

Warnings: swearing (f-word, s-word), nightmares < What are the times on 22 and 23 > Three dots scroll across my screen until another text lands: < late september i think > Well that’s helpful. A “late september” and a Venmo deposit of $100 are all I have to interpret this clusterfuck of a dream. That reminds me - it isn’t just one dream. It’s two related dreams. The first time, M boards an airplane and kisses her best friend in the back row while the plane sweeps them away from a tornado. The second time, their class watches fr...

2 likes 1 comment 1
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Do Stars Have Eyes?

Weekly Contest #49

Do Stars Have Eyes? “Did you volunteer, or were you forced to be here?” The stranger asks me, and I shrug. I don’t know what to say or perhaps I don’t want to spell it out for the flag-wearing stranger next to me. “I’m not sure.” “I volunteered,” the stranger claims almost proudly. “I am doing it for my country.” Ah, the patriotic one, I thought. My third cousin, a worker at one of these testing facilities across the country said that the volunteers fell into three different categories: the patriotic ones, the poetic ones, and then the pa...

46 likes 17 comments 17
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Stars, Heart-Shaped Keys, and Dreams

Weekly Contest #36

April 23, 2020 This is a first. Journaling. It's a form of therapy, they say. They say a lot of things, tell me a lot of things.They tell me to forgive him, that he was only seventeen with a promising future ahead of. They tell me that he has a little sister who is only a nine, a father in the military, and a depressed mother. They tell me that he has friends and he is a teacher’s pet, that he loves basketball so much that he wears his jerseys on weekends, that he didn’t mean to do it. They tell me it was an accident. I know it was an accide...

22 likes 12 comments 12
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Is Ignorance Bliss?

Weekly Contest #36

Dear diary,April 12, 2018 Well, this is a first. Not the first like you imagine as a little girl, like buying that cute sweater with your own money. Not the first like you imagine as a teenager, like getting that first kiss on your porch at eight o’clock. Not the first like you imagine as a young adult, partying the night away and drinking Cosmopolitans and talking about adult stuff. I suppose I must consider this a last.  I divorced my husband yesterday. He cheated on me. I am fifty-three. We’ve been married for thirty years. It’s our ...

16 likes 4 comments 4
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Us Against the World

Weekly Contest #35

**trigger warning: domestic violence, miscarriage** The sun is bleeding into the horizon, sending angry bullets of light out towards the clouds as if to rebel against its demise. I want to believe that it will rise again, but I’ve seen it set too many times to have faith in its rise.  It is a spring evening, and I am walking with my daughter, who is seven turning on twenty. She is too young to be asking me why I am leaving her father. She is too young to be asking me why I am wandering around an empty park when I have a home. She is too...

12 likes 5 comments 5
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So Small and So Beautiful

Weekly Contest #35

I’m holding her in my arms, and she is so small and so beautiful. Her pudgy pink fists grasp air, clenching and opening uncertainly. Her closed eyes are wrinkled and worried like a newborn kitten’s, and I trail my fingertips over her soft cheeks, wondering if this is her first dream. Her eyelashes flutter at my touch, and she leans slightly into my hand, her pudgy face warm against my palm. I love her. But it is March 20. The first day of spring. I hate March 20. I promised myself I would do it on March 26, but she came 6 days early, so I ha...

15 likes 2 comments 2
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Enough

Weekly Contest #35

He watched her from the edge of the gym, swaying nervously under one of the basketball hoops. She was dancing carelessly, bumping hips and flipping her hair and living. He was not, picking at the collar of his suit and breathing through his mouth and trying not to stare (but failing). “What’s wrong, d-d-dork? Got something in your c-c-collar? Awe, is it your Maw-mee?” A pack of juniors wandered out of the men’s locker room from behind James, the leader jeering at James mockingly. A glowing cigarette dangled from the leader’s lips. It was 195...

9 likes 2 comments 2
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Broken Promises

Weekly Contest #35

Lucy is pulling on her leash, snarling and growling at the snow. She gets antsy this time of year - the beginning of spring when geese and birds begin to return from their winter vacation, when squirrels dance across streets merrily, barely avoiding the Minivans that rule this block. I pull harder back and remind myself that this walk is burning off the late morning calories of a frozen waffle. Damian always reminded me that I needed to lose a few more pounds, to just go for a run for once. “Carry! Didn’t see you there. Going for an easy str...

7 likes 0 comments 0
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In-Between

Weekly Contest #31

I’m doing the laundry again because no one has coughed through our musty apartment in four days. Four days of having to hold my breath and bite my tongue and count every cent that leaves my fingers. It wasn’t always like this, and it won’t always be like this. The in-between, not the never or forever, is the worst part though. You see, when it’s just me and my little sister, Jo, it’s quiet. When Mom comes swinging through the apartment in a cloud of perfume and smelling of sex, it’s busy with people I don’t know. When Dad dips through the ap...

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Mangoes

Mangoes. The fresh, sweet meat that is perfectly ripe for eating. The firm, sunshine yellow peel that shines brightly under the summer sun. The flowers of the mango tree that the lazy, buzzing bees love so much. The leaves of the tree that whisper in the wind, whispering of happiness and love and the soft dresses that Mama will make for me and my dolls. “Camila!” Mama’s voice is high and clear, like the spring water that runs fresh over my sticky finger tips after I eat mangoes. “Come here, Camila!” I pick the mango and tuck it into my dress...

8 likes 2 comments 2
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A Bitter Medicine

Weekly Contest #31

“You wouldn’t know from looking at me, but I am strong and earthy. I am a rare commodity and should be used sparingly.” He looks up for approval, and I nod that he should continue. “Don’t use a laundry list of others with me… who am I?” I pause my slow stirring, raising an eyebrow at him through the steam of the pot. “I really want to say… Himalayan salt, but that isn’t earthy. I think.” From his perch on the counter, he flashes the label at me: black truffle salt. “That doesn’t make sense. Did you not finish the sentence earlier?” “Yeah, I ...

11 likes 2 comments 2
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August Airs

Weekly Contest #30

The phone drills through the heavy August air, cutting through the mosquitos and the heat to reach my ear. I smile lazily, untangling myself from the mess of limbs that is Charlie Parker. He is snoring softly on the hammock as I pad across the soft grass, cradling the rotary phone receiver in one hand, a hand-rolled cigarette in the other. “Beverly Wilson, please call me Bev,” I drone, waiting for the telltale breathing or sniffle of a human. I receive silence before a deep, male voice speaks.  “Beverly, it’s Doctor Johnson.”  “Oh,...

9 likes 2 comments 2
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The Silence Between Words

Weekly Contest #29

“I have something to tell you,” I murmured, hoping that my words would be lost in the darkness between us. We were sitting crossed legged, knees touching. We were holding hands in the space between our ankles. I was shaking slightly, a tremble that could only be felt and not seen. I couldn’t help it; a tornado of emotions was ravaging my head, making it hard to think clearly.    Normally, Riley would have contested the darkness, but through my trembling and the fear in my voice, she kept the walk-in closet’s light off. &n...

11 likes 2 comments 2
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Not Your Bride

Weekly Contest #28

“Where’s your date?” The older lady next to me bumps her shoulder into mine, whispering the question playfully as she glances around the banquet hall.  “I don’t have one-” I start, but she sees right through me. I sigh and point to the tall male making the lengthy speech. She spews out her wine over the tablecloth suddenly, and I jump. The other guests glare at us with ill-concealed disgust. “The groom?!” She hisses, and I want to smack my forehead. I shake my head quickly. “Jonathon, you know…” I trail off as I speak, hoping that the g...

9 likes 2 comments 2
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Dear You

Weekly Contest #28

Dear you,No, dear lover,Is that too forward?I just get so tired of being scared all of the time. Scared of my looks, scared of my thoughts, scared of you. The possibility of you.Dear you,Hello. I am in love with you. I am not hopelessly in love with you, I don’t experience those cinematic butterflies when I sit with you on the floor of my bedroom. Does that mean I don’t love you?No. It means something much simpler, yes, because you are my best friend. You live 908.3 miles away, but it feels like three million. I forget to call. I’m sorry. I’...

24 likes 8 comments 8
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