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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Spicy Burrito Bowl
On paper, it was nothing unusual: an al pastor burrito bowl, warm with roasted pork, peppers, rice, and spice. But in the moment, it became something far more than dinner. It became a mirror. A container for the feelings I hadn’t yet named and the questions I was almost afraid to ask.
By The Kind Quill6 months ago in Confessions
A Blue Memory
It started with a flying chair. August 1st, 2021 — the kind of humid New York summer night that sticks to your skin like sweat and nostalgia. The kind of night when possibility hangs in the air, draped in disco lights and drowned beneath the bass of a now-shuttered gay club whose name I can’t quite say without feeling a pinch in my chest.
By The Kind Quill6 months ago in Confessions
The Gap in the Lights
The hillside is the kind people pay to get married on, groomed to look like it never needed grooming. Rows of grapevines contour the slope like the ribs of some benevolent giant, and beyond them the river unspools in a silver S, ferrying light instead of boats. I’m on the balcony above the reception lawn with a flute of seltzer that keeps fogging my fingers. The glass sweats more than I do. Through my sunglasses, the whole place is color-graded into a pretty lie—blues deeper, greens silkier, faces dewy with someone else’s good lighting.
By The Kind Quill7 months ago in Fiction
The Summer Villain
By the time the sun goes down, the apartment has the temperature and moral ambiguity of a sauna. The living room window is propped open with a paperback Bible and a cracked sandal, but the air barely moves. The fly strips dangle like sad party streamers for a party that never ends and never gets fun.
By The Kind Quill7 months ago in Fiction
Miles in Between
Theo used to think that love would find him by now. In his twenties, he’d watched his friends meet, date, and marry like clockwork. It was as if everyone else was given a map, and he was handed a compass with no North. Now in his mid-thirties, he was tired of pretending that dating apps were exciting. The endless bios, the swipe culture, the way it all made intimacy feel like a transaction — it exhausted him.
By The Kind Quill9 months ago in Pride
Back to 2020
I woke up in 2020. Sweat-soaked, mouth dry, and the smell of burnt Eggo waffles lingering in the air. It wasn’t a dream, even though my phone was still charging on a cracked nightstand, and the world outside buzzed with early-pandemic paranoia. No masks in sight just yet—but the anxiety had already RSVPed.
By The Kind Quill10 months ago in Futurism
For the Love of Teachers!
If you’ve ever walked into a classroom and thought, “These kids are monsters,” congratulations—you’re either a teacher or have considered joining a cult. Either way, welcome to the frontlines of education: the underpaid, over-caffeinated, and emotionally resilient world of teaching.
By The Kind Quill10 months ago in Education
