Kassandra Cherry
Stories (6/0)
Call Me Marigold
The cell door clanged against the wall, and the priests, my “brothers”, threw me in. My arms scraped against the cold stone floor when I tried to protect my face. I pushed myself up as quickly as I could and ran back to the door, but it slammed shut in front of me.
By Kassandra Cherry2 years ago in Fiction
A Few Hours At A Time
I go set up at my recording booth, a quarter of the art room reserved for me, full of soundproofing foam and a cage of pvc pipe and grandmother’s quilts, because it has the best sound. I pull back the quilts to let in the light and plug in my web cam so my friends can actually see my face after such a long time apart.
By Kassandra Cherry2 years ago in Motivation
Medicine for Mā-Mā
Liú Bai ran, his feet slapping against the damp wood of the docks as he dodged around fishermen and merchants alike, ducking and weaving under rope and net. The boy ignored the angry shouts of one man he bumped into, too focused on his goal. There, at the end of the pier, three men were finishing their morning preparations and stepping into their boat, ready to push out to sea.
By Kassandra Cherry2 years ago in Fiction
Even When I Forget
Rhea didn’t think anything of the brown paper box sitting on the ground next to Dad’s arm chair when she visited him for dinner the day before graduation. It was one of those few times the whole family was back together outside of the holidays. Rhea’s brothers flew in from out of town - Gareth with Janet on his arm, the new ring sparkling bright on her finger couldn’t match her smile, and Jace’s lady came with a tiny little hanger-on. Her nephew – Rhea couldn’t believe she was an aunt already! – was so soft and fragile she was afraid she’d break him if she held him. Still, it wasn’t a moment she’d give up for the world, and having them all out there, watching her finally cross that stage, filled Rhea with a sense of pride.
By Kassandra Cherry2 years ago in Fiction
You Deserve to Feel Special
Peter dropped a stack of paperwork the size of a textbook on Aleesia’s desk with an audible ‘thump’. She scowled at it, as it joined the other scattered papers over her desk, before turning her glare at the man hovering over her desk. “What is this? Ad hoc?” She at least managed to keep her tone even. The last thing she wanted was to start some workplace drama with one of the project managers.
By Kassandra Cherry2 years ago in Pride