Kallie Prera
Stories (2)
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We Don't Speak Her Name
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. I'd been having that same stupid dream about that same stupid house for as long as I could remember, but the summer of 2011 was the first time that I'd seen the flickering light of a candle burning in the windowsill.
By Kallie Prera4 years ago in Horror
The Sentinel of El Petén
The elders had said I hadn’t inherited any of it. It was weird, considering that I out of both myself and my brother was the one who looked more like our father and his rich background. Calixto, El Canche, looked just like our Costa Rican mother yet had inherited all of the gifts that had made my father the famous healer that he was, the saviour of the state. We weren’t very well known outside of our little village in rural northern Guatemala, but my I know for a fact my father had assisted in delivering every single baby in our village, ourselves included, of course. But I, Catarino Quintana, El Prieto, hadn’t gotten a single drop.
By Kallie Prera4 years ago in Fiction
