Rebekah Conard
Bio
33, She/Her, a big bi nerd
How do I write a bio that doesn't look like a dating profile? Anyway, my cat is my daughter, I crochet and cross stitch, and I can't ride a bike. Come take a peek in my brain-space, please and thanks.
Stories (78)
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A Night Flight
Cass opened her eyes and glanced at her watch. She had only been asleep for about 20 minutes. Cass always had a hard time sleeping in-transit. Usually that was no problem. She enjoyed the experience of traveling and keeping one eye on the window as the sights came and went. On an airplane, there were fewer sights to be seen once up in the clouds, but the novelty of being aboard an aircraft usually kept her occupied. Sometimes, though, the travel times lined up poorly or some snafu or another wore Cass down. Frequent fliers are going to have the occasional trip from hell, and that's just a fact of life. Tonight, it would have been nice to use the two and a half hours to catch some "z"s.
By Rebekah Conard3 years ago in Fiction
Inside and Out
The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own. That's what I had to tell myself, sometimes aloud, every time I stopped to wash my hands and face or try to clean my teeth. Truth be told, it had been so long since I'd seen my own face looking back at me, I was starting to forget it. Time passed, likely weeks, and the gaunt visage in every reflective surface strained to convince me otherwise. It said, "Come on, what other face could you possibly have? It's you and me, like it always has been." I had to believe I had good reason to deny it the first time and continue to deny it. It was the only thing I "knew", and to lose it would mean losing myself to that... house.
By Rebekah Conard3 years ago in Horror
Mewsic
Is this thing recording? Testing, one, two... Okay. Let's do this. Breathe in, and... Hey, my quadrupeds! The name's DJ Mittenz, Lil' Mittz for short. Though, I guess that's not that much shorter. Wait, shit. I write lyrics for Frisky's sake. I speak Human, I swear.
By Rebekah Conard3 years ago in Fiction
Divide
(Author's note: Please excuse the inclusion of AI-generated art with this piece. This was created fairly early in the public adoption of generative AI, and I hadn't yet understood the impact and consequences of using it. I've chosen to give myself some grace and leave the art attached to the stories they were generated for, as they were an earnest part of my creative process at that time.)
By Rebekah Conard3 years ago in Fiction
Her Bedroom Wall
If walls could talk, I would have shared in your parents' joy and excitement as they prepared your nursery. They spent hours just sitting on the floor of the empty room daydreaming about the possibilities. A beige carpet was laid down and I was painted lavender. The anticipation was great fun, but it was nothing compared to the joy of seeing your family together for the first time. I'm just a wall, but I shared in the feeling of responsibility that came over the house as it was cleaned, child-proofed and decorated for your arrival. I listened and I learned every one of your mother's lullabies. If walls could talk, I would have sang you a lullaby of my own about how I would protect you from the elements, from noise, from harm, and how happy I was with my duty.
By Rebekah Conard3 years ago in Fiction
Why People Are Mad About "Hogwarts Legacy"
In this piece I'm going to touch on the topics of transphobia, racism and racial bias, and antisemitism. Hello! Do you want to play "Hogwarts Legacy" or know someone who does? Did you see some headlines about boycotting it? Is this the first you're hearing of it? Cool. One more question, and it's an important one: Are you here because you genuinely want to understand perspectives that may clash with your own? I'm not trying to rage-bait here; if you're here to get mad at people like me, feel free to click away. No hard feelings.
By Rebekah Conard3 years ago in Gamers
And, Breathe
Despite her best efforts, Celia was miserable. To most people the conditions would have been ideal: comfortable heat, cheery sun, a delicious salty breeze, and everything she could want was within arm's reach. Celia didn't know how to relax. She came to this island resort thinking she could force relaxation upon herself. So far, no matter how good the food, the drinks and the spa treatments were, she was still a sourpuss.
By Rebekah Conard3 years ago in Fiction
Revenge Is a Deep Dish
There was a burning sensation lingering in the back of his nose and throat. As Jesse opened his eyes he saw mostly darkness. The eyes adjusted, but still didn't see much. Everything was a dull gray, most things were concrete. Shifting his weight, Jesse understood he was seated on a bare floor with his hands tied behind him. His back rested against something. It took his groggy mind a whole minute to work it out; the back of a wooden chair had been separated from the rest of the chair and cemented directly into the floor. The floor was now a chair, he supposed.
By Rebekah Conard3 years ago in Fiction
Vivian
(Author's note: Please excuse the inclusion of AI-generated art with this piece. This was created fairly early in the public adoption of generative AI, and I hadn't yet understood the impact and consequences of using it. I've chosen to give myself some grace and leave the art attached to the stories they were generated for, as they were an earnest part of my creative process at that time.)
By Rebekah Conard3 years ago in Fiction
