White rooftops in the morning. Scatter of white across the grass like salt tossed by a careless hand. Why does the sight of something so cold make us feel warm inside? ©️2021 Katie Baker I hope all who celebrated it had a Happy Thanksgiving. It has been a hectic few days for me, and I'm … Continue reading Like Salt
creative writing
Maybe It’s Strange
Maybe it’s strange, but I really don’t mind the darker mornings in the fall. There’s something cozy about the dark pressed up against my window panes, and the way it makes the light inside my house seem more golden. I enjoy the extended mornings because in the summer, I’m usually awake as soon as the … Continue reading Maybe It’s Strange
Camp Unity’s Fence
Gordy-- the cranky old caretaker-- squints at the moss-covered, rickety fence that circles Camp Unity. “Eyesore,” he says, snuffing through one nostril. Three dirt-smudged and wild-haired kids stand beside him in various attitudes of attention. The tallest boy with the tamest hair studies the fence with great attention. Its boards are gray and tall-- much … Continue reading Camp Unity’s Fence
The Clouds that Muck Up Our Hearts
When the rain finally breaks and the autumn sun returns, my heart feels a little lighter. It's comforting to watch the leaves sparkle in the wind and to remember there is more to life than just gray and dreary and dreadful things. Sometimes we need the spears of sunshine to pierce through the clouds that … Continue reading The Clouds that Muck Up Our Hearts
Apocalypse Over
They hobble toward me through the early morning fog. Dawn has not yet broken, and the sky above the fog is slate gray and steely. Porch lights and street lights are pinpricks of blue, star-shaped sparkles high above the street. But the figures coming toward me are huddled and shapeless. Their toes seem to find … Continue reading Apocalypse Over
Never Come Up For Air
I wish sometimes I could just live in a book and never come up for air. I think of all the stolen moments of my childhood, holed up in my bedroom diving into worlds of espionage, 18th century Britain-- even worlds made up from myth, legend, and hearty imagination. I remember sunny afternoons on a … Continue reading Never Come Up For Air
Nighttime Terrors
Darla noticed him watching her while she was at the gas pump. Beneath the flaring blue lights of the overhang, she caught his reflection in the back window of her car as he walked behind her. Black eyes. Hat low across his forehead. He darted a look at her as he passed between the pumps. … Continue reading Nighttime Terrors
The Last Warm Night
We walk up through the neighborhood houses on the last warm October night. The breeze tugs at the fallen leaves lying in the gutters, and they skitter along behind us. They sound like the pitter-patter of a thousand invisible feet stalking us from the shadows. I swing my boyfriend's hand back and forth. We peer … Continue reading The Last Warm Night
New Religion
Are we just the sum of everything we’ve ever said? Does this include the angry things? The drunken confessions. Distracted outbursts. And misery fueled rants, colored by depression, pain, or anxiety. If everything we’ve ever said is sitting in the docket, which of us would receive acquittal from our judges? If the real you or … Continue reading New Religion
Solitary Water
I started this story two years ago, just before the pandemic hit. It wasn't something I was in love with so I let it sit unfinished for a while. I've added an ending and got around a rough draft to share with all of you Prose Lovers. Enjoy! It is cold here. In the winter, … Continue reading Solitary Water
Seeking Prose 