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Author: The Reluctant Author

The Reluctant Author, a user of words, has spent a lifetime writing words and storing them in notebooks, computer discs, digital files, and has now decided to step out into the light and start sharing some of those words with the world. (The Reluctant Author is Kendra Cooke's pseudonym)
Liberty

Liberty

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She was born on the fourth of July amidst the parades, picnics, and scorching heat. They named her Liberty because it seemed fitting and patriotic considering the occasion. Marge, humming the Star-Spangled Banner, stared out the hospital window as the sky blossomed with fireworks in an array of patriotic colors, and Bert held their daughter. They share the story every year, embellishing it here and there, always trying to convince people they’d aptly named their carefree and wild child. The…

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Coffee

Coffee

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“Although we claim it began with coffee, in truth, it started with the alarm. It’s shrill insistence I drag myself from bed came an hour too late. I subjected myself to dry shampoo and a slightly wrinkled navy pant suit before running out the door, and reached the corner just in time to watch the bus pull away; the air filled with the stench of its putrid exhaust.” Mandy’s engagement ring sparkled in the sun. “She looked so bedraggled, I…

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Grief

Grief

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Milly stands beside the pool, arms crossed, and falls backwards into the cool, clean water. Body sinking towards the bottom, she wonders when she’ll run out of air. Eyes opened, the chlorine stinging them as she watches her stethoscope fall, wet blood stained muted green scrubs clinging to her. Small bubbles of air escape her nose, floating upwards like clouds. She sits on the bottom of the pool, and grief glues her there until her lungs burn for air. Someone…

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Runaway

Runaway

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The gray sky rumbled when Maggie left home, as though the world itself was crying over stupid rules, too. In her determination, she ignored the cold, spring rain. She’d go to the library first, grab plenty of books, and stay up late reading under the stars. The choices were endless now that she was on her own, the rules of home left behind as she marched down the street splashing in puddles, heavy backpack weighing her down.   “Be home…

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