vitamin k

latest publications

2026-04-11T07:16:00.000-07:00

Hi friends. as you may know I am working on a short story collection - my first.

this week was a good one with 3 publications!

here they are ...

read #1 my latest story published in the inaugural edition of this quarterly independent #press ... https://www.thewordsfaire.com/issuei/pulses-synched-and-fading

read #2 - https://latinosenglishedition.blog/2026/04/10/royal-sessions-10-5-1998-by-katya-mills/

read #3 - https://latinosenglishedition.blog/2026/04/11/cover-sheet-by-katya-mills/

probably all 3 will go into my collection.

I may have enough published stories now to submit a sample to traditional publishers looking to publish collections from emerging writers. so that's exciting.

Katya

Journal Entry #3.29.26

2026-03-29T07:16:00.000-07:00

Oh not stop trying so hard, sweet heart. amplify your will! one of her alters offered, rush like the wind sounding across a vast forest. let them listen when you speak. it was a critical meeting and she was intimidated by the power in the room, mostly men with cufflinks and attitudes, steadfast and demanding. systemically there could be a domino effect depending on the outcome. she wavered - like she was having a change of heart - and regrouped and pushed the microphone down a little to say: to lead us out of this mess I endorse paperback books. I cannot get behind these talking heads. the green can in front of her on the lacquered table was shiny and made you want to drink but sprite would never be a great choice for your body or mind. the branding sold it. like the war in Iran for anyone naive enough to fall for that... of course her strategy failed and she was ridiculed. she was by far the youngest among those assembled there, and the only woman. years later, the bookstore was full of admirers who hung off every word. All her alters had unified into one compelling self. In the tempest - full of fear - I fell apart, she recounted. It was not how I hoped I would act. I would lean into these moments and learn. A crisis of any kind, if it didn't kill you, gave you knowledge and humility and brought meaning. It strengthened my heart with resolve. #katyamills

Journal Entries #3.21.26

2026-03-21T08:05:04.472-07:00

when working my intensity blurs at times like a cataract I guess it's just all these years on earth I've been so lucky to have. from this opaque coordinate my spirit becomes my greatest sense. i lean into it. coffee helps too. there was nothing opulent nothing of splendor there. a table. a chair. the walls were bare. some natural light. these were the conditions I demanded to work. oh. and a lock on every door. the only jewelry i wore was a necklace made from the watch chain from a boy who loved me. the tags of all my animals I loved and lost played a song on the sternum.

on the walk I saw him
bonny lad

standing proud

long black hair

brown skin

facing south

it took me by surprise

2 realize it was you

my old friend

conjuring

so I can know

you are well

made of precious metals in this plastic world filled with hate and nonsense. they were focused on connection and only used their drones to open eyes and hearts to pretty land and sea scapes. hope was absent but they pressed on. the world got colder. everyone at war. not just factions and flags. my extremities went a little numb. not to worry. pulled on a hat and fuzzy socks. then some bombs fell and I could not feel my heart. made a distress call. your warmth kept me alive. I love you

She paved a trivial highway. I listened. then opened my mouth like a bird before dawn speaking into a forest. She paved right over me. I wanted to punch her in the gut! you cannot do it over the phone.

you surpass yourself! i declared

a jet left a creamy stitch in the sky

as day and night

divide

in the middle

east

hungry mouths open

wide

A piece I wrote was published here in March ... https://latinosenglishedition.blog/2026/03/11/strange-euphoria-by-katya-mills/

Katya Mills, 3.21.26

(the above fragments were all published in variations on BlueSky and X over the past 2 weeks)

Journal Entry # 3.1.26

2026-03-01T07:46:00.000-08:00

We were blind with it wet with it inside the foggy morning. I cut a piece out and pocketed it to touch in moments of despair. In the empire the interest rates climbed up from a base and everything out of reach. They left us to die in our phones. And then – your kiss

I go 2 you
blatant
my love for you
stops me in my pensive world
before you
there was no one
could drag me out of
there
no one
now like a cat
to birdsong
I go
everything stops
when you
call

‘ode to cat’

kiss you on your orange bouncy ears I see you. you used to perch in high places and watch me. I had to find you. 13 years on earth my beloved and now you approach me every morning. writing. I have to stop. I see you. can you please live forever? I love you

2.19.26

the poison wept and ran down the forearms. a queen castigates the bishop in the shadow of the castle. the skin mystified calls the blood to battle. we will never give in. no matter how you frighten us with your machines. she held him. could not speak.

stricken

crazed by an idea I must pursue before attention’s span fractures into atomic weak diversions like thread coming apart when you tug leaving your longing a silvery flash 2 vanish

one request

take me with you on your quest I will make your coffee b4 the rising sun interpret maps and stars with you when the day is done

inspired by imperialist mentalities they decided they could not help the ones trodden under the gears so they worked simply 4 status 4 prestige 4 family 4 country. in time they became knowingly unkind. blind. blaming the downtrodden for their condition

came back from dying obsessed with living came back from lying obsessed with honesty came back from apathy obsessed with trying feeling crying. to hell with all that self-pitying immolation and dying

bravo!

stellar be sure u amplify it on your platform. she brushed the wine off her lips and almost lost her balance. fuc u Darla. fuc u. she went to leave and stopped when he cried out. im lonely! well. she thought aren’t we all then? Billy. drink water. c u later

touched by limerence

first with my eyes I follow you overlooking these aperitifs these tangent sentimentalities my intrigue shifts orbital I center you pin my body to the outskirts of a dissolute party dreaming of you against me entangled if nothing else

She could not

slow down thought or image. the velocity was incredible at night lying in bed. She could not read a simple book or share a simple conversation. She shut her eyes in prayer. It went on like this for several weeks.

all entries by #KatyaMills @ 2026

book review of the biography I recently published

2026-02-25T07:48:00.000-08:00

https://latinosenglishedition.blog/2026/02/25/review-of-the-life-and-times-of-juan-felipe-limon-dominguez/

A biography by Katya Mills

Juan was an artist and several of his oil paintings, provided by his family, are included at the end of the paperback version.

The Life and Times of Juan Felipe Limon Dominguez carries an intimacy that sings to the reader almost like an autobiography. The author of this brief biography steps back into the shadows, quite masterfully, as though placing Juan on a stage under a bare bulb in some low lit shack one can only find by following the Sacramento River south from the city for several miles deep into the delta farmland, to share his ninety plus years on earth with us.

This is a vivid and heartfelt portrait of a young man with nothing to lose, born into poverty, etched into the rugged mountainsides in Sinaloa, who embarked on a journey from Mexico to the United States after his own family was decimated by misfortune. While following a familiar trajectory of hope, hardship, and resilience, the narrative stands out for its compelling voice. It doesn’t merely chronicle an immigrant experience; it invites readers to live it, breathe it, and reflect on the wider socio-political contexts that shape such journeys. The timing of this release is striking, what with nationalism and anti-immigrant rhetoric peaking, particularly in the United States.

The book’s greatest strength lies in its honest depiction of one man’s vision and how he carries it out; tending to the earth which in turn tended to him, finding a home when he was left without one, creating a family in the absence of one. Despite the cultural dislocation he held on to his roots, staying close to the earth and all the bounty the Central Valley provides. The book is succinct and keeps a pace which is set by the rhythms of Juan’s life. Waking up to work another day of hard labor with his hands, never feeling sorry for himself despite the emotional toll of his losses. Experiences connect through Juan’s memory and and the author blends the past with the present in such a way that it feels seamless and not disruptive, so the pages can turn without having to turn back.

The consistent tone throughout is refreshingly and remarkably optimistic given the hardships Juan experienced. He was known by his family and friends as a man who never complained. To his dying day, Juan’s spirit was full with hope and humor, gratitude and determination. The author’s prose uses everyday moments — a shared meal, a sudden and unexpected decision necessitated by circumstance, comradery at work, an idea or urge taking form — to open up gateways to deeper reflection.

The life exemplified is portrayed with sensitivity and nuance. The narrative does not frame assimilation as a linear progression but rather as a textured process of negotiation and self-reinvention. In Juan’s own words — shared over coffee across the final three years of his life — Katya captures the bittersweet nature of leaving your homeland only to return decades later and feel like a stranger in your own hometown. Stylistically, this biography separates the chaff from the wheat and avoids overwrought sentimentality or melodrama. The author’s restraint allows the emotional truths to emerge organically, making the moments of joy and triumph all the more rewarding.

In conclusion, The Life and Times of Juan Felipe Limon Dominguez is a story of courage and vulnerability, of obstacles confronted with deep humility yet light-heartedness — and dignity. In the words of the author … “Juan’s spirits were high and he carried an unflagging optimism to the end. You could feel the warmth and generosity in his presence. He saw life through a rose-colored lens and his memory was as sharp as a tack. I can only hope by this brief accounting of his life to have captured some of the essence of the man so many loved and admired, his trials and tribulations, and how he managed to endure them, and not only survive but prosper.”

Here is the link to the biography: https://www.amazon.com/Life-Times-Felipe-Limon-Dominguez-ebook/dp/B0GHGP1BBQ

journal entries # 2.16.26

2026-02-16T06:39:00.000-08:00

when the body

touched down
in the shallow paupers
grave

the earth held it
like it had not been
held

and the face
bloodless looked
up blind

searching the sky
for the soul

i could not explain away the lacuna without consulting the gods who told me in a hundred beads fallen from my wrist in a sun shower in the middle of the night where I had been. remembering I cried. and wrote it down as fast as I could before it went out on the tides

invasion of dawn over the land … choreographed waves of influencers and who is who in a sanitized place beam out in sizzling satellite emissions then recede … in the silence in the dark I can finally breathe. I can feel joy and heartache and love living

it was freeing seeing her reflection touching nail beds to the curve of this planet she carved each follicle uplifting her thoughts drifting farther from the ache of memory chrome of razor catching light beneath her wrist like the lake where he drowned

by #katyamills

journal entry #5

2026-02-09T08:18:00.000-08:00

2.9.26

all I am is breath. transparency. like the materials you chose to adorn me with. pellucidity of desire. my bones dissolve in your embrace deep in these high count hotel casino sheets. tonight I bring you luck. I am your ace

2.2.26

only you can. they cannot imprison your soul

2.3.26

the pain I endure comes less from culture wars and dissipated love or the malaise I feel in my tummy than from the minutes the hours rife with possibility I squander in the doomscrolling semiconsciousness of this our modern age

2.4.26

the photo of her fell off the wall. her mother and sister recalled it was just after breakfast. they were picking up the shattered glass. only much later did they learn she had lost her life that morning. many miles away in Vienna.

2.5.26

destitute unwashed unshaven uncertain if he was hallucinating a world full of apathy toward his condition he left with one charitable gaze from an otherwise insolent boy lambent in heart

2.6.26

the wound came in various colors across the years and could not fully heal without the medicine you were unwilling to give. your apathy betrayed you. I cared less and less and less (about you). I guess it was contagious. It is sad. Yet I feel so deeply I know I've moved on

2.7.26

before where she stood she saw what was not there. her blood her heart made itself known in her chest pursued by the shadow she cannot best. terrified to believe she was no different than them. this inheritance of mine. can it not be sublimated for good?

2.8.26

so pale
the world becomes

by the end when the shadow

once integrated

disintegrated

by #katyamills 2026

journal entry #4

2026-01-31T08:20:00.000-08:00

1.27.26 unwilling to stay in line or lane we produced some wax for the #wane went against the grain and got chided and derided which was only reinforcing as we sang and danced to music they could not even seem to feel and is not that strange? #vss365

1.25.26 there is no #ruse left you could use I have seen them all. and when you haunt our shared location you will feel my distance. you lose. i give flowers only to those I choose #vss365

1.29.26 the title was dropped in the wrong box of which I was unaware. they placed it by my door at the top of the stair. my little head put it together and I was serene. for this thoughtfulness did #obfuscate the general malaise which saddens my gaze #vss365

1.28.26 a #quiver in the river of thought and I made this mistake. to follow one of a thousand diversions. and the river dried up. its bed harbored coyotes traveling west on the train tracks needing to rest. good. i was left hollow and still. breathing #vss365

1.31.26 little could #soothe a jaded heart but he brought over an ice cream cake just the same. day before their birth. joy sparked 4 a sec. is he dead yet? naw. what kind of planet? idk. but we have our dreams. #vss365

by #katyamills 2026

(originally posted on twitter and bluesky's daily vss threads)

journal entry #3

2026-01-24T08:52:00.000-08:00

1.23.26 while they #drizzle us with promises and stir our dying embers into a flickering hope licking the smoggy air i go about my rituals polishing my boots to shine and kick the everlasting tar out of some innocent dandelion as I tread the weary similitudes

1.21.26 the hardships made her brittle and broke her. she would never be that delicate heart again. she was resolute and when the winds picked up she tied her hair back flexed her psychology to #bend and move through any storm

1.22.26 she got thrown off again and all the bearings she intended upon gone her emotions unraveled and she became #unmoored. she wasn't a big drinker but a solid vodka cranberry did the trick. it's not often you discover your mate leaves you for another

1.24.26 you let the confidence #slip. I could not protect you anymore. I was up all night distraught. The tides cruel with rip. My heart carried yours to a distant star where you might not be sought. The fabrics were made of ionic sticking waters. the currency empathic tears

1.20.26 out of nothingness made of antiquated politics & algorithmic static ... inspiration #looms and takes hold. how do i fight for my life when lulled to sleep? imagine ... stay alert ... create ... listen ... write

1.16.26 no #searing pain today just a watercolor that could even wash away as the sun peaks and the staircase creaks and the heron speaks

1.17.26 the interrogation was going quite well indeed the walls #dappled with her blood and she came to arms tied behind her at the wrists and spat at her audience. raise the curtain! let the fucking show begin

here is the link to a biography I just published! a story of a humble farmer and his immigration from Sinaloa to California in the 1940's ... https://www.amazon.com/Life-Times-Felipe-Limon-Dominguez/dp/B0GHR7TXC9

by #katyamills

2026

BIOGRAPHY

2026-01-18T10:44:00.000-08:00

Hi I just published an #immigrant story and brief #biography of a great man who passed away last year age 99. Paperback coming soon. This is the E - edition ...

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0GHGP1BBQ/

fiction / story

2026-01-17T05:45:00.000-08:00

a story I published. fiction

https://latinosenglishedition.blog/2026/01/16/governess-by-katya-mills/

journal entries 2

2026-01-15T06:42:00.000-08:00

1.14.26 my thoughts off-center wonky I herded them into the pot and put them on a boil while I located my spine. it was January and the days ahead promised madness and terror, domination over love. bright smiles and kittens would not be enough

1.13.26 idea 4 when you're struggling. talk to yourself like your best friend sitting on the stoop in the old hood in the evening and you can here the cicadas and give yourself some encouragement and wisdom to carry on

1.11.26 years ago it would be kooky or straight up sci-fi to think you could have a video of a life being taken and blamed for their own death. but if you're a minority of any kind you know it's been this way forever and the only solution is you me we

1.10.26 encountering the sky and the horizon the moon and the stars and rising sun unmissable for any warrior summoning capacity to fight the powers that be in creative not violent ways

1.9.26 your delivery is meaningful. will you lift your arms and cut the air with ominous intent and issue dull insensate biased half-truths? you are dead to us. we do respect our dead but we speak of them in the past tense.

1.15.26 how do you explain it was it the whiskey on your breath? something broke you up and got you heartfelt in your era of not giving a fuck. talk to me. let's open it up some. I like it. I almost forgot you had it in you.

#katyamills

journal entries (1)

2026-01-08T07:32:00.000-08:00

Journal ...

1.8.26 the body unleashed a symphony of pain signals as I got out of bed. nothing a hot shower and cold brew coffee cannot silence. the talks we had gave me hope. the sun was always there we just could not see it. oh to be alive.

1.6.26 in her youth she was sent to the best schools and developed a spiking variant of intellectual pride. over the years she encountered failure and hardship and changed. looking back she saw how clueless she was.

1.7.26 the sun shines in Cali the reservoirs are close to full. the kitten pulls the Dell plug out of the power strip and shuts it down. pay attention to me momma. I scoop Loki up on my shoulder. shaking off this winter cold. excited to get to work.

#katyamills

2026 id

2026-01-02T06:53:00.000-08:00

you kept out of trouble for a while
work was an abstraction
nights you found a bit of peace listening to BBC
oh - the fate of Ollie Reed
what about the new year?
maybe resist condemnation
take a great and honorable reflection
@ the intersections
of identity

#katyamills

las vegas 2025 impressions

2025-12-27T12:46:00.000-08:00

Here in Las Vegas sense can jump out of you the berry of your cigarette burning your lip brings you back feel around your pockets for your wallet (if you even) find it it's empty ... play Keno with the same numbers until you win. you cannot survive fascism if money is everything. if you do not speak up you lose. you cannot see if you are lost on your phone. do something for anyone ... after the rains the desert air is good on the lungs and one holiday morning we are walking between casinos so alive hunting for coffee when an old man in a yellow tracksuit on a scooter slices a path between a man and two women on the sidewalk to a chorus of fuck yous ... hey sky and trace clouds! hey sun! come on up this final Friday of the year played out ... you don't need to struggle anymore. if you can, just be with someone you love and who loves you. have breakfast in bed... take the longest drive home.

#katyamills

publication

2025-12-22T09:35:00.000-08:00

My story was published today by Juan De Crivelo

here ...

https://latinosenglishedition.wordpress.com/2025/12/22/you-were-i-was-by-katya-mills/

#katyamills

18

2025-12-22T08:14:00.000-08:00

the chambers

reeked of pine sol and plastic

a humble veneer

distorted egos

foundation of fear

many stood and applauded

the legislation

out of touch with

the nation

tired parents

try 2 comfort

nonbinary

kids

one day

if you don't end your life

you will turn

eighteen

#katyamills

apprehension

2025-12-17T07:44:00.000-08:00

in this foggy dreariness

we do recall the bright bright sunny

with hopes for its

return

the forecast ...

marine layer

cold to the bone

rain

we put our hearts together

and map out a week

in the desert

a ten hour drive

no more waiting

go and apprehend your

dream

#katyamills

crystallize

2025-12-17T07:15:00.000-08:00

an SOS signal

flashed from a spotlight beaming

across the unsettled surface of the lake

the memory crystallized into a value

firing up the powerboat

and heading out to help

the ones stranded

in the channel

#katyamills

Portland Oregon

2025-11-20T08:41:00.000-08:00

a short story I wrote ...

https://latinosenglishedition.wordpress.com/2025/11/19/portland-oregon-by-katya-mills/

11.9.25

2025-11-09T07:43:00.000-08:00

I wanted to share a couple of posts I wrote on X and BLUESKY in the past couple of weeks. I am currently focused on other writing projects taking me away from short form.

Vitamin K

@Katya444ever
·
Oct 28

another #experiment gone awry ... she falls to her knees and rips at her coat ... her zombies limp out from the shadows to console her ... suddenly her eyes open wide in revelation ... what if I give you sunlight? #vss365

when they came up from the maelstrom the ones who had given up on any sign of life were ashamed or did not believe. when they set eyes upon them they saw they were mostly unchanged but for one brushstroke ... their hair once black now silver the irises #argent too

November. your dying was near it was hovering. your spirit pulling away then back into the body #geography flickering and fading. my eyes swim in tears. the love comes quick and you will not be forgotten. #vss365

10.23.25

2025-10-23T07:14:18.355-07:00

the lad was downcast watching the oatmeal drip off a sugary spoon. heavy in some story he told himself. she caught his eye. look! my nail polish. isn't it radiant? the counter story began to take ... can we go to the park? I want to feed the ducks.

10.22.25

2025-10-22T08:27:00.000-07:00

wednesday. autumn settles into the bones. I want to be helpful be useful and make you smile and laugh. not so crass and cynically fuming. patience. one thing they cannot take from you is your effort. channel it wisely. brush off the cobwebs. wear yellow. its almost halloween.

ghost train 2025

2025-10-22T07:56:00.000-07:00

by Katya Mills

one

October

of fallen apples

bored by worms

green

and reddish

moon

orchards the color

of dying

soon

a locomotive

emerged from a mist

hauling rusted boxcars

through town

unmarked

like a tombstone

slate

telling nothing

of a poor man’s

fate

the earth

trembled

the spider

clutching

its web

she rumbled down the rails

across the cemetery grounds

raising bodies from eternal slumber

racking her bones

along the factory

row

dusty faded

brick and mortar

façades

trailed by packs

of snaggle-tooth

hounds

sparking her irons

with arduous

howls

i came to consciousness

in my bed

the only light

the wood eating

flames

the tall windows

holding back

torrential

rains

absorbing

her engine steam

smoke-white

grains

a chilling shrill whistle

dropped to baritone

then bass

drew me out

treacherously

nonsensically

to the streets

in my overcoat

shivering

i watched her

go by

the crossings

deferential

somehow

like an invitation

how silent

the bells

painted gates

wide open

red lights

dormant

suddenly

i felt myself

edging some

precipice

one gasp

and

i had taken

my last

my body

sheet white

fell limp

in the dirt

snagged like a

vagabond

neck ina

noose

i grasped

these iron rungs

in the wind

with heaving

lungs

oh ghost train

what terrors

you hold

framing the landscape

in burning

cold

oh scarecrow

what terrors you seen

hung up

in cornfields

where the murders

been

someone

please

will you?

light a candle

for the lost

to find their way

through the frost

toll a bell

for the ones

left behind

antifash

2025-10-08T07:43:00.000-07:00

she took a drag so long to the lungs it made good enough ash to cover up and smudge the memory out on early morning city streets with her brothers and sisters white brown black. young. restless. angry. thirsting for a better world. irreverent. antifash

poetry by #katyamills