Kristy Ockunzzi-Kmit
Bio
Kristy Ockunzzi-Kmit is a fiction, fantasy, and sci-fi author from Cleveland, OH. She is also an artist, spending her free time painting and sculpting. Happily married to composer Mark Kmit and mother to one very imaginative teenager.
Stories (10/0)
- Top Story - November 2021
My Father, the EnigmaTop Story - November 2021
Two years ago, my father died. Technically speaking, his passing was sudden -- but if you ask me, he had been impatiently waiting for his final breath from the very second his mother had taken hers. He made it two years and one day short of her birthday, and I’m convinced he left so abruptly because he couldn’t bring himself to sit through one more of her birthdays without her. Cancer was what eventually took him, and true to form it was a very rare, aggressive, and difficult-to-detect manifestation of the disease -- only something obscure would do, after all, for the man who repeatedly claimed his diabetes was not real and, instead, must have actually been something that science had not yet discovered.
By Kristy Ockunzzi-Kmit2 years ago in Families
- Top Story - October 2021
The River's GiftTop Story - October 2021
The bark stung Ben’s hands as he dug furiously into soggy, clay-thick soil, the edges of his makeshift shovel crumbling away in rough splinters. Occasional raindrops were testing his patience with their staccato threats, each one a warning that the storm would be upon him soon.
By Kristy Ockunzzi-Kmit3 years ago in Horror
Bird in Hand
Rosie dotingly brushed her timeworn fingers over the letter, admiring the fine linen feel, the careful cursive, even the unsteady hand behind the tiny bird drawn in the lower right corner. She had read it at least once a day, and could recite it word for word, but one line illuminated her spirit more than any.
By Kristy Ockunzzi-Kmit3 years ago in Humans
Pysanky
Growing up, my family decorated Easter eggs like many modern families do: We bought the Paas-brand dye pucks, set up a line of cups, and let our hard-boiled eggs sit in their color baths until we felt they had achieved a pleasant hue. Occasionally, we would bust out the crayons and put family members’ names or little drawings on them before dipping, or if we were feeling adventurous we’d carefully stretch rubber bands around them to achieve stripes. For the most part, however, they were simple and easy enough to complete in a few hours on the night before Easter. And good thing, too, because as soon as the eggs went back into the refrigerator, the inevitable condensation would cause the dyes to pucker and run. It was, at best, a fun way to spend a single evening together; at worst, it heralded several days’ worth of multicolored egg salad sandwiches.
By Kristy Ockunzzi-Kmit3 years ago in Families
Farmer, Dishwasher, Millionaire
Imagine, for a moment, that you’re on your way to dine at one of the world’s best restaurants. Maybe you’re going to Mirazur, entranced by the glamorous French Riviera and breathtaking views of the Mediterranean. Or, possibly, you’ve chosen Lima’s Central, and you’re ready to experience an adventure through Peru via the restaurant’s elevation-inspired tasting menu. Or perhaps you’ve been hearing about René Redzepi on shows like Chef’s Table, Ugly Delicious, or Parts Unknown, so you’re off to Noma in Copenhagen to see what this New Nordic cuisine is all about.
By Kristy Ockunzzi-Kmit3 years ago in Feast
Leather Jacket
The air in my parents’ attic carried the scent of our family, of decades spent in the house built on what had once been an orchard. It was the must of old books, the brightness of elderflower tonic, the funk of cucumbers pickling in the kitchen. It was the condensed aroma of our life together, and I would have bottled it if I could have. Sitting on the unfinished wooden floor, surrounded by my father’s possessions, I struggled to keep my mind from wandering through days gone past. Mementos from events I hadn’t thought about in years passed from their cardboard prisons into my hands and then to their assigned piles, sometimes with ease, sometimes only through the grace afforded me after several minutes of pondering.
By Kristy Ockunzzi-Kmit3 years ago in Families
Babylon 5 is On Again
“Humans and aliens wrapped in two million, five hundred thousand tons of spinning metal, all alone in the night.” Would you watch a show for its storyline and setting, even if many of the actors periodically gave lackluster performances? What if the graphics had quickly aged and now look like a cartoony video game? And how would you feel if the character designs were vastly different in quality, with incredible makeup for some and what appears to be a whirlwind trip through a chintzy wig shop for others?
By Kristy Ockunzzi-Kmit3 years ago in Geeks