Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Families.
Enduring Legacies
Since the onset of his mature consciousness Sixtus had never come close to establishing any definitive sense of meaning or direction – he had drifted obediently along the path assigned to him from early childhood, fulfilling what was expected of him, – no more, no less – and so the weeks, months and years elapsed undramatically. He did not feel wronged or coerced yet was burdened with a persistent longing for something intangible of which he had been deprived so far – some creative outlet which eluded him.
Michael MasonPublished 3 years ago in Families"Wouldn't Change"
Wouldn’t Change By J.E. Contreras James stood in the early morning cold staring at the dilapidated old mansion. It was his savior. James had his most challenging year. It tested him to his core. His company had been financially struggling, and he had laid off some good men. His eight-year-old daughter, Star, had suffered from a severe illness and her medical bills were unrealistic to add to his heavy burden. Star spent most of her time with her father on the job sites.
Justin ContrerasPublished 3 years ago in Families"Just in Case"
Terrie sat down in the floor, surrounded by what seemed to be a sea of cluttered envelopes and small files. She was exhausted from going through every corner of every thing that Dan had left behind.
Teresa ThompsonPublished 3 years ago in FamiliesRich Remains
It was a brisk day with clammy air. I was propped against my favorite dogwood tree sketching some new illustrations. “Kyra, come inside for supper please!” Mom dictated. I close my little black notebook & skip up to the porch.
Delaney HockenburyPublished 3 years ago in FamiliesThe Little Black Book
THE LITTLE BLACK BOOK With my head down, I trudge down the street towards my apartment building. Just as I was about to cross the street, I glance up and catch a glimpse of a person in a bright red jacket on the other side of the street. For some reason, it appears as though they are purposely headed straight at me. So I pick up my pace and add in a few weaving steps to get, but the stranger matches my weaves and steps into my path, forcing me to stop short.
Carson WellsPublished 3 years ago in FamiliesOn Rue
02-08-2121 Dear Little Black Book, Poppy Jones here, and my heart is extremely heavy. I found out that my great-grandmother, the one who lived out in Bakersfield, died just early this morning. I remember she told the funniest stories about her times in the city of San Diego growing up, and how she enjoyed her swims, her sunday school teaching, and learning to braid hair from her grandma. Her real name is Alice Ruth Jones. Mama Rue (that's what we called her) was ahead of her time. She was extremely intelligent and got accepted to Harvard at the age of 15, as the college held its prestige for 485 years, and is now the university that I attend at 15. Mama Rue invented 237 working pieces of technology that have changed that face of our civilization. She was an engineer and an architect in one. She enjoyed working and creating the first new designs, of aeroautomobiles at the tender age of 29. She lived to be 96! My mom and grandma both passed away before she did from breast and lung cancer respectively, so she definitely stood the test of time. I was raised my Mama Rue. My family says I take after her smile and charm. I think that makes me happy and other times, it reminds me that I miss her and feel sad every time I feel happy. Miss you Mama Rue 🖤
Tasha MatthewsPublished 3 years ago in FamiliesColdhill
Coldhill, It were a town like no other. East of the Atlantic Ocean and so small it had only one of most amenities. It were deserted, or so that’s how it seemed over the last few years. We had the war, six years ago.
Nadine HallidayPublished 3 years ago in FamiliesRoot of Russia
The Root of Russia I really didn’t know her that well. A couple of coffees, a few dinners that I was dragged to with our husbands who were mutual friends and that was it. That is not to say we did not have deep talks. I tend to talk deep no matter who I am with. I hate wasting my time with small talk. Most people are taken back by this but not Deena. She was Russian, much younger than her boisterous husband who had a quick wit and an insatiable appetite for alcohol. Still, when you do not waste time with petty conversation you can make lasting impressions on a person. She certainly did with me.
Emilee McCaffreyPublished 3 years ago in FamiliesThe First Time
The first time! There is a first time for everything. But does it cross your mind that the first time could mean just about anything? It's scary when those words exit your child's mouth. These words could mean anything. When we were younger and had our first time, we would hide it from our parents.
Laura mcleanPublished 3 years ago in FamiliesIce
A dust speck swirled, high in the winter sky. Carried by the wind, it sailed… danced. It met a drop of water and grew six beautiful arms—an intricate shape, crystallized by the freezing air.
Jillie Mae HousePublished 3 years ago in FamiliesThe Day I Will Never Forget
A world-wide pandemic had hit and turned our lives upside down in the year 2020. I owned a little bakery in Harlem called Johnson’s Buns that was passed down from my grandfather to my father and then to me. With New York being in lockdown we were losing income rapidly, yet our bills were pilling up. For the first time I felt like I was failing my father and grandfather. I was now officially a failure with a giant debt. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing the shop. I grew up in this bakery and have so many fond memories.
Jocelyn JayasooriaPublished 3 years ago in FamiliesThe Magical Black Notebook
It was a gray cloudy day around the city district, the small retail stores were empty, the restaurants and bars that was once frequented by consumers sat there like relics of the past, no one was able to enter any of the businesses until further notice. Cars drove by as the boy and his mother walked quickly down the empty side walk that used to be packed with pedestrians. The boy bounced up and down while he walked with his mother as she held his hand tightly, like a mother bear protecting her cub. The little boy grabbed his ear with one hand adjusting the strings on his medical mask that contoured to the his face, protecting his mouth and nose as it graced his cheeks. Before they went outside, his mother told him from now on when he goes somewhere with her he gets to be a super hero...“Always wear your mask so people won’t discover your true identity!”, she cautioned him, widening her eyes to put emphasis on what she instructed him to do. “What kind of super hero am I?”, he asked with a streak excitement in his voice and naivety in his enlarged eyes. His mother looked around their home trying to appease the young child. She then walked into the corner of their loft where a bookshelf stood and ran her eyes across each shelf, as though she preplanned to search for something of great secrecy that she intended on sharing with her son. Finally, to her surprise she noticed a small black note book that she hadn't seen before. In an instant, she grabbed it with fervor and gave it to her son, as she briefly stewed in cracking the mystery as to where the book came from. After dismissing her short lived suspicion, she turned to her son and leaned toward's him and said, “Here... you can call yourself Black Notebook Boy!” Once the boy retrieved the book from his mother, he quickly put the small notebook in his pocket as though he needed to protect the identity of the small black book. To encapsulate the fact in his mind that her son needed to protect his identity and the small black book, she reiterated the strict instructions on what to do when they get outside. "DO NOT touch your face with your hands, DO NOT put your hands in your mouth and DO NOT rub your eyes!". After she grabbed the boy's jacket she gave it to him so he could put it on. In between putting on her coat, zipping it up, putting on her medical mask and securing her son's medical mask on his face, she bent down to help him zip his jacket up. They both stepped outside and and observed the people that had a mask on. He wondered to himself since everyone has on a mask does that make them a superhero too? The both of them made their way to their parked car along the side walk between the other parked cars. Aside from securing her and her son's mouth and nose with medical mask, she made sure her son's seat belt was securely buckled up. “You can take your mask off now”, she said with a soft tone. “What if people find out my true identity?”, the boy asked with concern . His mother turned around and squinted her eyes as she looked directly into the boys eyes, “NO ONE can see you in the car”, she turned around, assuring him while adjusting the car mirror. He pulled out his small black book to examine the pages and noticed that each page was blank. Soon he realized there was an inscription on the outside that read 'Make A Wish' in bold letters. A little puzzled, he asked his mother for clarity while staring at the 3 words, “Mommy... what does this mean?”. As he waited for his mother's reply, he made his inquiry while pointing at the inscription. His mother looked at him and tried to look at the road at the same time. “It means that you are supposed to write your wishes down Black Notebook Boy!”, she laughed while trying to keep her eyes on the road. “ Well, can I have a pencil?” he asked. “ I don’t have a pencil but I have a pen you can use. I will get it out of my purse when I come to a stop light”, she said with satisfaction. The boy waited patiently while his mother drove for a mile as he looked out the window thinking about what he was going to wish for. His countenance dimmed a little once he took notice of all the businesses that were empty, especially after he spotted his favorite corner store that his mother would take him to to buy a soda pop. His sadness almost made him forget about the small black notebook. He snapped out of it once the car came to a stop. “Can you hand me my purse on the floor?” his mother asked, while motioning towards her purse that sat on the floor beside him. His mother reached in her purse and gladly gave him a pen. Without delay, the boy wrote down his first wish with eagerness, “PLEASE open the stores again?!”.With a sense of accomplishment, the boy was proud of his first penned wish in his small black notebook. As his mother continued to drive, the little boy lifted his head up to see where they were, “Where are we going?”, the boy asked. “To go see grandma and grandpa. We can’t go in their house but we can wave to them from the street.” she said attempting to mask her disappointment. From that point on, they continued on the 45- minute trip to the country side of the city to get to his grandma and grandpa's home. A smile came across the boy's face as if he was in oblivion to his mothers noticeable disappointment. “Can you turn on the radio?", he asked. "Sure!", his mother said as a smile gradually formed across her face. As soon as his mother found a radio station without static, a special news report came on the radio. “Sorry to interrupt your oldies, but goodies music. I am happy to announce that the state governor has signed a bill for stores to re- open”, the radio host announced with a poise. Though shocked, the boy froze in his amazement and chose not tell his mother about his superpower. Amazingly the boy sat in the back seat in a state of bliss, he sensed his mothers sadness for some reason. In an instant, garnered a look of determination and wrote something else in his little black notebook..., “Please... make... mommy happy!”. The little boy looked at his second wish and then looked at his mother in hopes of his wish coming true. As his mother continued to drive and listen to the radio, her phone began to ring. She turned the radio down and answered it, using her car's Bluetooth.