The Kind Quill
Bio
The Kind Quill serves as a writer's blog to entertain, humor, and/or educate readers and viewers alike on the stories that move us and might feed our inner child
Stories (264)
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The Foggy Uber Ride
There are mornings that feel scripted by a tired playwright. The kind where the alarm goes off too soon, the sky hasn’t decided what color it wants to be, and the world looks like it’s been wrapped in gauze. That morning, the city was swallowed whole by fog. Not the cinematic kind that looks romantic under street lamps. This was the kind that erased buildings. It turned headlights into floating orbs and reduced traffic lights to faint suggestions of authority.
By The Kind Quill21 minutes ago in Confessions
The Honk That Nobody Heard
The sky began humming on a Tuesday. Not loudly. Not urgently. Just a soft, mechanical vibration that settled over the town like background music no one had selected. It buzzed faintly in teeth and window glass. You could feel it in your ribs if you stood still.
By The Kind Quill12 days ago in Fiction
The Forgotten Room
In our house, the hallway upstairs had a rule: Never touch the last door on the left. Mom never wrote it down, but the rule was solid as concrete. Holidays, birthdays, random Tuesdays - nobody went in. If a guest got lost looking for the bathroom and wandered too far, they were intercepted with a speed that suggested Olympic training and generational trauma.
By The Kind Quill3 months ago in Fiction
Patch Notes for a Life
It started with a glance through a keyhole that wasn’t a keyhole at all, just a smart panel mounted inside a maintenance closet no one was supposed to open. The door had been left a finger’s width ajar—a cracked mouth in a corridor of quiet—and I was on my night rounds, a janitor-security hybrid with a ring of keys heavy enough to anchor a small boat. The new building had new protocols; the new protocols had new passwords. But the oldest security is human laziness, and someone had propped the closet with a mop to “air it out” and then forgot the mop.
By The Kind Quill4 months ago in Fiction
Butterflies
They say love comes when you least expect it. Sometimes it feels like a myth, a story passed down in whispers, a threadbare tale spun to comfort those who wait too long. But then, against all odds, two people who once claimed they didn’t need love, who swore they would never chase it, find themselves standing side by side as friends—and somehow, quietly, something begins to stir.
By The Kind Quill5 months ago in Poets
