Kayla Bryant
Bio
Kayla is a wife and mother of two who is an 8th grade teacher and dance coach trying to find more time to write for enjoyment.
Stories (2)
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The Reason
She needed him to love her. That was the only way this was going to work. He had to love her. Grace chewed nervously on the nails she’d painted just for this occasion. When she realized what she was doing, she stopped herself and forced her eyes to travel the room she’d already committed to memory in the forty minutes she’d been waiting to be called back. She glanced over the generic pictures on the walls of watercolor-esque flowers and beaches and abstract color splatters that, to her, looked like nothing at all. She noticed the stack of magazines beside the couch across from her and debated for maybe the fourth time this afternoon whether or not she was going to finally get up, grab one, and take it back to her seat with her. She really wished that her phone hadn’t died. At least she could be distracting herself with it like all the other people waiting in this room. Grace decided to observe her waiting room cellmates seeing as how they were so engrossed in their technology that they wouldn’t know it anyway. The woman sitting beside the magazines looked to be in her mid-thirties. She had beautiful auburn hair and a mole right above her lip. Grace wondered if it were an actual mole or if it were drawn on. It was too perfect. But who would actually draw on moles in this day and age? Grace squinted her eyes to try and aid in her investigation of the perfect mole, and the stranger looked up and caught her staring. Feeling a flush of embarrassment run over her, Grace jumped up and started over to the magazine table in an attempt to create a reason for looking in that direction.
By Kayla Bryant5 years ago in Fiction
For the Love of Family
Navy crouched down in the dry brush and focused to control both her breathing and her heartbeat. Her pulse was ringing in her ears as she slowly slid her hands up and down the backs of her thighs allowing the tights she was wearing to dry her sweat-soaked palms. The doe she was stalking suddenly jerked her head up and got completely still save for the ears that were twitching. Listening. Navy held her breath and followed suit. Completely still but watching. Waiting. The creature resumed its meal, and Navy prepared to kill hers. She picked up the hand-crafted bow and arrow and aimed. As she exhaled, she heard the air being sliced as a foreign arrow whizzed by her ear striking her prey.
By Kayla Bryant5 years ago in Fiction
