Christina Hunter
Bio
Author, Mother, Wife, Environmental Activist. Recipient of the Paul Harris Fellowship award and nominated for the Women of Distinction award. Climate Reality Leader, Zero-Waste promoter, beekeeper and lover of all things natural.
Stories (45/0)
Burnout
The calendar changes to August and with it comes a feeling of dread. My eyes scan the penciled-in events: Cinema Under the Stars, Beer Festival, VegFest, Cocktails for Conservation, an herb garden workshop, a blueberry picking event, an eco-fair meeting. And on it went.
By Christina Hunter20 days ago in Fiction
Trusting Your Inner Compass
Dear Daughter, Let this serve as a reminder to you as you move through this life. You will have days when you desperately want to fit in. When all that matters is to have friends you can relate to, that you can walk through the halls of the high school with - either unnoticed, or noticed for all the right reasons. You'll have days where you'll wonder if fitting in is all that it's cracked up to be. You'll ask yourself, is this me?
By Christina Hunterabout a month ago in Poets
- Runner-Up in Passing Ships Challenge
Full CircleRunner-Up in Passing Ships Challenge
We pull up to the curb of the school yard, in the same spot we always do. Her friends are waiting at the edge of the property for her. They're a huddle of pre-teen excitement with long strands of hair swirling around them in the wind. They spot my blue car a mile away. As we approach, they inch closer to the edge of the school boundary, waving and smiling; A greeting she has received every day for as long as I can remember.
By Christina Hunter2 months ago in Humans
Walking with Purpose
The trail unravels before me in a long snowpacked ribbon of blue under the pale setting sun. It's obvious that many feet have trampled this path, and yet, I stand alone amongst the pines. A panic begins to rise from the pit of my stomach making my cheeks flush. I turn towards the direction I came from, seeing the winding trail disappear around the rock cut, far into the distance. How long have I been on this trail? Am I heading deeper into the woods by continuing, or nearing the end? The thoughts bounce around my brain in a rapidfire argument against itself. To turn back or forge ahead? To call out for help, or figure it out on my own? I decide to keep going, wishing now more than ever I'd had a dog with me to guide the way. Animals have that innate sense of direction, something clearly I wasn't very good at. Tugging at the strings of my hooded red parka as I proceed with caution, imagining myself from a birdseye view; a blood clot inching it's way through the veins of the forest.
By Christina Hunter5 months ago in Fiction
A Most Disruptive Morning
That mob of protesters was growin'. I can mostly slip by undetected and start my job without their harassing hatred for this place, but some days they catch me. "How can you be so cruel?! Those are sentient beings in there! Release them to the ocean!" The taunts follow me. I ignore them as I push past the crowd. I used to wait to change into my coveralls when I got to my maintenance closet, but now I just say fuck it, I'm tired. This job pays well. And those fish don't seem bothered at all. Hell, it's probably cleaner than the ocean these days with all that crap that's floatin' in there. I remember when I first started this job, people loved aquariums. Those were the days. People smiled back then. Makin' memories. Nowadays all they want to do is yell about stuff.
By Christina Hunter7 months ago in Fiction
Sweet as Honey
It was a Wednesday in May 2017, when we received our approved application to foster a sweet 14-week-old, mostly black, plump, German shepherd. There were four in total that needed foster homes, but as soon as I saw her, I knew it would be her that would join our family.
By Christina Hunter9 months ago in Petlife
The Mission
"Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say." The voice echoed out. Or had it come from within? The room smelled of bleach. A quick look around revealed a large blank screen that glitched every few minutes, and twelve white chairs that lined a rectangular matching table.
By Christina Hunter10 months ago in Fiction
How to Claim a Life
We bought a chess game; A beautiful mahogany, handcrafted coffee-table-conversation-piece that was to be my first step at backing away from this exhausting digital life we're all plugged into. Of course, the first thing I wanted to do was take a picture of how beautiful it looked in our living room and share it for the world to see. Alas, I refrained.
By Christina Hunter10 months ago in Humans
A Ride to Remember
Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. It became the backdrop to the midnight train's play, with each night a new story unfolding. The scenery below the clouds shifted like an old Viewmaster toy. It's film reel presenting a new world to explore with each winding of the plastic orange handle. Click, blackness. Click, mountain range. Click, blackness. Click, ocean. Click.
By Christina Hunter10 months ago in Fiction
