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I Remember: Weekly Writing Challenge

27 Aug

I Remember: Weekly Writing Challenge

My earliest memory was of me my brothers Kevin and Fred, and my sister Akieta riding into Willoughby Spit in the old caravan. The van was so packed you could barely see through the dust windows. We were moving from Tennessee so it had been a long ride… Or so I think… Hmm… Now that I think of it, I don’t know where the hell we were coming from. I’m not even sure who all was in the van- Well I know daddy was driving and mom was in the passenger side seat. There were stacks of brown card board boxes, this I remember clearly. I also remember having pulled up and going into the house. There were things already inside. I did not like that there were a lot of doors… I didn’t like the house itself. The moment I had seen it I had felt that it was going to be bad. I remember there was a huge tarantula spider in the kitchen which scared me…

Sigh. Those crazy summer days in the 90’s.

©copyright Kyanna Kitt

Prompt 15: Childhood Dreams

26 Aug

Prompt 15

Prompt 15: Childhood Dreams

When I grow up

I want to write books

sing in a band

be a pastry cook

I’d scribble in a million libretas

jotting down every thought

not skipping a recipe

or anything I was taught

When mommy woke & went for the kitchen

as did my eyes

I’d sit and read the paper-

I was only but 5.

I’ve always dreamt of seeing my work

In books, publications, articles-


I have many dreams that remain stashed in my mind

They too shall come to pass given time.

©copyright Kyanna Kitt

Prompt 13: Photo Inspiration

26 Aug

Prompt 13

Prompt 13: Photo Inspiration


This passion once twice full.

Not covered- speckled through with treason.

My heart once yearned for you,

now bitter fruit grows where it once lay.

This because of you.

You traded.

You cheated, you wore me to the bone of my thigh.

These frills once lush,

now nothing but wilt.

©copyright Kyanna Kitt

Prompt 12: Fairytale

26 Aug

Prompt 12

Prompt 12: Fairytale

His Knight in Shining Armor

Carolynne was a quirky young girl. She enjoyed nature, and hiking. She had always been a tom-boy. In all her 23 years of life, this was the one thing that remained unchanged. Her life was a whirlwind, happening so fast- She had already attended 10 different schools by the time she was 12. All the moving finally stopped when her father passed away tragically leaving her to her Aunt Lucia, who she absolutely loathed for constantly bad mouthing her mother- whom she never got the chance to meet but just knew that what ever had happened all those years ago wasn’t her fault. There had to be more. The only good that came of of her moving to North Dakota was the fact that she had met Michael.

Michael was stubborn but loyal. His bravado was the most charming thing she had ever experience. They were both young and had met up after school every day despite conflicting schedules to make sure they had seen each other. They were best friends. They ate practically every meal together. They learned and grew together. It seemed like she had know him for so much more longer than she had- He had a way of knowing things before Carolynne had even opened her moth to tell him, and so did she. The day, October 1st 2009, that they met while out grocery shopping for fresh produce, Carolynne was confident that they would never be able to depart from each other.

It was almost like yesterday when she met him at a produce stand off the side of a farm. His parents farm. The kiosk had large green watermelon, ears of white corn, and pitchers of fresh lemonade juice. He was standing behind it, wearing blue denim overalls, a yellow graphic t-shirt beneath it and a pair of thick brown leather boots. He was nothing like his looks… His blonde locks softly tousles and gently tucked behind his ear. His looks were simply captivating she had bare noticed the bruise around his left eye.

Black doesn’t suit you very well,” Carolynne said quickly glaring past her coily bang at his eye.

They were hazel colored, and beautiful. How could someone be so beautiful even under such circumstances- His eyes searched her face for a brief eternity…

Ya know, a lot of guys wouldn’t take too kindly to a girl sticking her nose into some business that was never hers to mind in the first place,” he said pressing his hands firmly on the counter in front of him-

I’m sorry, that was rude,” he quickly blurted, squinting his eyes to see her through the forceful brightness of the sun.

I’m Carolynne,” she said looking off as not to offend him.

Well I’m Michael- Carolynne, you can look at me- It’s just a black eye,” he said.

She shook her head in disbelief. There was no way in the world that that was just a black eye. Someone did that to him. And he being the proud male he was surely would not stand there and speak up about it. How could anyone had done this to him? Her womanly instinct began to take over, and it was telling her that it was time she did some snooping. This was just not sitting right with her, and besides, that moment he looked into her eyes he had inadvertently pleaded for her help.

The next few weeks were tough though they saw each other every day. She, Carolynne had finally met the thing that had hurt him. His own father. She was forced to endure the terror that was placed into his heart. The way his weight shifted when his ‘father’ Luke was around. That pot belly old drunk knew how to get under his skin. He’d do just about anything, and Carolynne was not off limits.

They were at Michael’s house for breakfast. They were having grits, eggs, and bacon. It was almost ready, she liked her grits a bit on the mushy side. The smell was that of a southern kitchen on a Sunday morning. The sounds of the grits bubbling away reminded her of her childhood and the way her mother would prepare breakfast for her and her family.

SLAM. The front door opened and shut.

The beautiful moment cut short by none other than Luke ‘ The Iron AssHole’ O’Hara.

I dunno what you see in that boy,” he said chugging down a 24 ounce beer.

Humility, cleanliness, intelligence,” she quickly shot back.

He scoffed, “You way to much woman for him,” he belched rubbing thick grime off his disgusting forehead and then grabbing his crotch.

Dad stop- Leave her a-

Boy I will kick your ass right here and right now,” he interjected barely able to make sense of his own words. His eyes were rolling around in his head- you could tell, if not for that, by the stench that was coming from his pores that he had been drinking for some time.

She was tired of it. Her brown skin turned hot red. She began tapping her foot. She was seeing red. She hated rude people, and as a parent, how could anyone have subjected their own child to such foul treatment. She was sick. She was angry. She wanted him to hurt. Bad. For all the time he beat Michael, for all the things he could have done and she not known about. She was paranoid. She had to get ride of that rotten bastard for once and for all- Suddenly- Carolynne hit him over his head with the same boiling pot of grits that was on the stove.

Now you get to feel the same pain you give to him every single day- And don’t you forget, she gripped him up, and I swear, and I mean I swear on my dead parents that if you tell anyone what just happened you won’t be so lucky next time,” she threw him back into the puddle of slop.

She hurried her phone out from her pocket and called her Aunt to the scene who concluded that Luke would have to stand trial for the crimes he had committed – Carolynne made sure he would always remember the skin on his face burned so he would live forever with the marks he had given his son. Even though it took a while Michael finally warmed up to her….

The next October rolled around slowly, and on the same day that they had met he had asked for her hand in marriage. With the sales boosting after Luke’s arrest Michael was able to buy his own land and began his own farmer;s market. Carolynne soon after publishing her first book about a guy, a girl, a farm, and their baby.

©copyright Kyanna Kitt

Prompt 11: Literary Idol

26 Aug

Prompt 11: Literary Idol

When I read you work

I am lifted.

Great tales of


Brilliant paradox


Chivalrous knights

self-glorifying folk.

Proud disposition

objective- caustic-

Futile aspiration to

unmask societal truths

that still centuries later

are our life.

©copyright Kyanna Kitt

Inspired by Geoffrey Chaucer a great literary idol of mine.

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