Kate Kastelberg
Bio
-cottage-core meets adventure
-revels in nature, mystery and the fantastical
-avoids baleful gaze of various eldritch terrors
-your Village Witch before it was cool
-under command of cats and owls
-let’s take a Time Machine back to the 90s
Achievements (8)
Stories (45)
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Gladiolus
Preface: nearly two years ago, my partner and I bought a house together. Both of us first time homeowners, we laboriously moved our collective possessions from at least three different locations into our new home. That Spring, though still in the process of unpacking and organizing, I made it a priority to plant many new plants on the property, still getting to know the land. My crisis of identity came from being a new homeowner with the realization that I was now the keeper of many of my dead relatives’ possessions and found myself accumulating even more from aging relatives in real time as soon as the purchase of my new home was discovered. The crux of the crisis was this: I am now the last of my living familial line. When I pass, who will inherit all of this? What does it mean to have a legacy and do we get to choose the legacy we leave behind? The below poem was originally two poems that I then revised to combine into one; I hope it gets at the heart of those questions, as the answers to them are in themselves a living document that is constantly being combined, edited and re-vamped.
By Kate Kastelberg 2 years ago in Poets
Phantomoscillia
Halloween was still a few weeks away. With the winds coming off the bayou, it got a mite chilly at night but during the day was still warm. In early evening, I made my way down the streets of New Orleans, passing the walking tours, full of tourists soaking up all the grisly history that filled the streets with gore and lore. I don’t need to pay for a tour, I have seen all the haunts before.
By Kate Kastelberg 2 years ago in Fiction
Liminophilia. Runner-Up in the Neolomicro Challenge.
With an elegant flourish, Sylvia placed her signature on the last page of the document. She capped her Watermark pen, set it on the desk and swiveled her chair to gaze out the floor-to-ceiling window of her executive office. Dusk was setting in but she wouldn’t leave yet. She swiveled back around and unlocked the bottom drawer of the desk, pulling out a glass and a bottle of single-malt Macallan scotch.
By Kate Kastelberg 2 years ago in Fiction
Primanostogust
It was still there. Sandy’s Ice Cream Shack, boasting its eight flavors, stood to the right of the five waterslides that cascaded down to kidney-shaped pools below. The water slide park and Sandy’s had opened in the early nineties and still appeared to be going strong. How a water slide park thrived when the entire Atlantic Ocean thrashed and waved behind it was a mystery.
By Kate Kastelberg 2 years ago in Fiction
Meowcholalia
Aurora placed the saucer on the tiled kitchen floor. The saucer was full of kitten food. She had found the tiny ginger kitten in the parking lot of her apartment complex the previous afternoon. He had had no collar and none of the neighbors claimed him.
By Kate Kastelberg 2 years ago in Fiction
