Kale Sinclair
Bio
Author | Poet | Husband | Dog Dad | Nerd | Zen Practitioner
Find my published poetry, and short story books here!
Stories (301)
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The Beginning Of The End | Pt. 5
Sicily | 1943 9:05A.M Garret forcefully pushed, and shoved himself through the stampeding crowd of fleeing citizens. In the tussle, someone had tried to grab onto him, but when he turned around all he saw was the face of a young nun, with her arms stretched out, getting washed away in the rippling wave of people.
By Kale Sinclair2 years ago in Fiction
Berber
Casablanca, North Africa | 1943 2:23A.M A tall shadow stepped forward, and into the moonlight of his cell’s window. His face was brown, scarred, and wrinkled with age from years in the heat. A blue headdress covered his entire head, neck and shoulders, exposing only the features of his face. He was dressed in a long blue and white tunic, flowing with golden patterns weaved throughout, and he wore crude, leather sandals on his feet. His left hand was gripping a MP40 machine gun, and his right hand held a ring of brass keys - which dangled and clinked together as he stepped across the sandy floor.
By Kale Sinclair2 years ago in Fiction
The Beginning Of The End | Pt. 3
Sicily | 1943 9:00A.M Like an apparition, Nadine slithered in silence through the dense crowds of Sicilian Citizens - her shoulders never coming into contact with anyone else's. The fingers of her right hand remained on the silver cross around her neck, fondling its smooth holy-coating. But the fingers on her left hand were intimately woven around the hilt of her dagger.
By Kale Sinclair2 years ago in Fiction
The Beginning Of The End | Pt. 2
Sicily | 1943 8:03A.M Intimately familiar with the confusing layout of the streets, Ulrich and Nadine allowed the priest to lead them through the tight alleys of Canicatti. To help blend in, and keep any of the patrolling soldiers from bothering them, Ulrich and Nadine were both donning religious garb.
By Kale Sinclair2 years ago in Fiction
The Beginning Of The End | Pt. 1
Sicily | 1943 6:38A.M Giving thanks for being responsible, and making sure everyone drank one glass of water for every glass of wine, Garret awoke refreshed. His body still ached from the numerous injuries he sustained from the crash, and his arms, neck, and hands were still bruised, and burned, but his energy was high, and his adrenaline was rejuvenated.
By Kale Sinclair2 years ago in Fiction
The Man
Sicily | 1943 Struggling to get the eggs over easy, she found a spatula and began scrambling. Skillfully using one hand, she cracked two more eggs with just her fingers, and added them to the hot skillet. Once the eggs reached her desired fluffiness, she tossed in a few slices of Pecorino cheese she cut from a cheese wheel left out on the counter top. Watching it melt, she used her spatula to mix the gooey magic together until the blend met her standards.
By Kale Sinclair2 years ago in Fiction
Hedera Helix
Sicily | 1943 Dry, cracked fingers wrapped around her throat. She was pushed up against the glass of the double-doors, which nearly broke open from the force. His speed was unlike anything Corrado had ever seen, which is why he reacted later than he should have.
By Kale Sinclair2 years ago in Fiction
Emotional Damage . Top Story - February 2024.
Sicily | 1943 Peering out of a pair of double glass doors, Rosalie took in the marvelous view of Canicatti’s rolling, emerald knolls, and the town’s vast array of sandstone, clay, marble, and brick structures ranging as far back as the fourteen-hundreds. Corrado paced back and forth, unimpressed with the view, and more concerned with their wrongful imprisonment.
By Kale Sinclair2 years ago in Fiction
