Natalie Wilkinson
Bio
Writing. Woven and Printed Textile Design. Architectural Drafting. Learning Japanese. Gardening. Not necessarily in that order.
IG: @maisonette _textiles
Stories (147)
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Love Note
I don’t remember whose idea it was, Suzanne’s, Fiona’s, or mine. The three of us did everything together that year. We were in Form 2, the British equivalent of 8th grade. My family had moved to Dunedin, New Zealand in the middle of a US school year when I was in 7th grade. I’d had two summers that year, one in the States and one in New Zealand. I had always been a year younger than everyone in my class because my birthday fell at the end of the traditional cut-off date. Now I was the same age because of the reversal in seasons.
By Natalie Wilkinson4 years ago in Confessions
Seirei no Moribito: Guardian of the Spirit
Seirei no Moribito, an animated television series first aired in April of 2007, is at the top of my list of great anime features of all time. It is not only visually breathtaking. The original music score is superb, and the story has all the elements that combine to make it a fantastic fantasy fairytale quasi-historical drama.
By Natalie Wilkinson4 years ago in Geeks
The Introduction
Ann I like Bosc pears and Red Anjou pears. Those are the only two kinds of pears I like. There. You know more about me than my ex-boyfriend did when he bought a Bartlett pear tree for my yard. And because life is stranger than fiction he and Dorothy Partridge were upstairs eating Bartlett pears in my bed when he became my ex.
By Natalie Wilkinson4 years ago in Fiction
Bull Market
Bull Ryder was one of those people who grew into their names and used them. Trading with his name, he was down in the pit before computer screens turned living into a blur of lines, charging at the numbers and bellowing buys and sells with a single-minded determination that earned him the moniker “Bull of Wall Street”. He had started at the bottom as a clerk the day after finishing high school, no family money and no old seat on the exchange passed down to him, with a few thousand and a little bit of luck.
By Natalie Wilkinson4 years ago in Fiction
Another New York Story
Nicole stood in one of the bag check lines at the British Museum. No, she couldn’t stop them, again. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she reached for a tissue balled up in her pocket while trying to choke back sobs and look normal. The line was moving so slowly it would take another ten minutes at least before she reached the front. She thought about coming back later, but no, the line might be just as long. London was on high alert after some acid throwing and crazy drivers smashing into pedestrians. She squared her shoulders.
By Natalie Wilkinson4 years ago in Fiction
Losing Weight the Mindful Way
To start with, I’m going to give you all the disclaimers. This piece is a personal app review about my own experience with Noom. I have no affiliation with Noom other than the fact that I used the app for eight months. I am not a doctor, nutritionist, or health professional. I know nothing about your health situation; therefore, I am not qualified to give you advice. I am only here to write my unsolicited opinion on an application that I credit with helping me lose weight. I have never used any other weight loss plan or diet, so I have nothing with which to compare it. If reading about weight loss is a “trigger” for you, stop right here and find a different story to read.
By Natalie Wilkinson4 years ago in Longevity
Any Way You Slice It
Halfway through a surprise party for her 25th birthday, Jessie McAfee looked at Todd Haney looking at Phoebe Taylor and realized she no longer wanted to marry him. She had a bite of chocolate cake on her fork, all ready to pop into her mouth. It was a cake Phoebe had made, and it was good. It was the piece with the “2” written on it in white icing. Todd had the “5” on his. Todd had his hand on her back, but he was looking at Phoebe. In fact, now that she thought about it, even though they were engaged: it was Phoebe who he held doors open for; helped into her coat, sweater, or whatever; threw snowballs at playfully, and for whom he put up kitchen shelves. Jessie struggled with all that on her own and, if she asked for help, was met with a surly response, long-winded complaints, and very little action. As far as snowballs went, she’d rather stay inside tucked up with hot chocolate and a good romance novel.
By Natalie Wilkinson5 years ago in Fiction
