K. C. Wexlar

Joined July 2022

0 stories

Bio

Sweet, scary and strange but always satisfying.

Stories (7/0)

Cashmere
They say the best memories are forged in college. We find our kindred spirits, best friends, and if lucky - the love of our life. Rebecca considered the strange way this luck had twisted, like how her car wound down the blind curves and bumps of desolate Country Road 25.
By K. C. Wexlar2 months ago in Fiction
The Green Amulet
Agni eyed the tiny human as it floundered through the tall field grass and instantly found it odd that none of the large ones were with it. The way it shrieked and howled she was certain that one of them would come, but alas it looked like this little creature was destined to become someone’s prey.
By K. C. Wexlar3 months ago in Fiction
Take Off
Veronica sits on the edge of her first-class seat, fiendishly chewing her ginger ale's straw into a knot. She made a horrible mistake, and she knew it. Was it too late? Her mind raced back over the last twelve hours.
By K. C. Wexlar3 months ago in Fiction
The One You Don't See Coming
RING! Round One. The bell clanged as Ethan shuffled toward me. His adrenaline must've been so high I could practically see his organs vibrating. He threw a few quick jabs, landing the last on my chin. I got my hands up fast. As usual, Ethan was coming in hot, but I had my own strategy.
By K. C. Wexlar4 months ago in Fiction
Climbing the Ladder
The lifeguard's legs stretched outward, two tanned highways to the land of milk and honey, as she lorded over the empty diving pool. I felt her judgy gaze as I mounted the ladder, but today I had to show my four-year-old his mommy was brave.
By K. C. Wexlar4 months ago in Families
The Flute
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. But I can still smell her scent tangled with the lab's cleaning supplies. I feel her lips. When I wake from these dreams screaming her name, I sense she must hear me. Isn't that proof enough that it really happened? That she still comes to me in my sleep? They tell me it's not.
By K. C. Wexlar6 months ago in Fiction
Into the Sun
Acidic whiskey burned my stomach as I woke to a desert sun that pierced through the train’s window, a train that I had no recollection of boarding. I panicked for a moment as scattered memories flashed back. We had been doing shots in the Bellagio suite, then the craps table, back to the bar-
By K. C. Wexlar6 months ago in Fiction