
Kathryn Pearson
Bio
Writer of all things whimsical--and some nonsensical.
Stories (3)
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3 Reasons to Start DoorDashing
I started DoorDashing this year as a way to feasibly quit a side-hustle that was no longer working for me. I had been struggling with the chaos adding an extra job to my schedule created, and my energy levels were plummeting. DoorDash turned out to be the perfect solution for me, and here I am sharing three reasons why it just might be the perfect side-hustle for you too.
By Kathryn Pearson5 years ago in Journal
Morning
The sun rose over the tree line--an alchemist turning the fields around it into a brief, dazzling gold. The morning air was a cool reprieve to the humid days of summer. The birds were in full song, and occasionally the sound of a cow joined in. During this ephemeral time of my childhood, my heart felt suspended between peace and the sense that something new and exciting was on its way. I spent these moments in a sort of reverie of hope.
By Kathryn Pearson5 years ago in Motivation
The Colors
The world is blue now. At times it's gold, sometimes green or violet. The colors appear in separate waves, though they used to blend together. We don't know what caused the separation, but we all know what happens with each wave. Noah calls blue “the foundational shift,” because it causes the pavement beneath us to become disjointed, rolling back and forth, moving up and down, each piece of its own accord. I can see D’Andrea up ahead, smoothly transitioning from one piece to another, bopping with the wave of it. “Surfing the turf” as she calls it. Noah is not far off, his skin speckled with sweat because it is his turn to carry our communal pack. Green and tattered, but holding together as well as any of us, the pack is filled with the last of our possessions. One day ago, we packed up from the center—the place where most of the survivors in the metropolis had gathered to create a camp of sorts. It was a good place, but Noah had heard a rumor. Now the three of us are out braving the wide-open streets on our own.
By Kathryn Pearson5 years ago in Fiction