immediate family
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The Little Black Book
Erick Ruden was in the prime of his life. Graduated top of his class at the University of Iowa school of Medicine and is in his first year of residency at the University’s hospital. He enjoyed working in the pediatric unit, where from the windows you got a view of the Kinnick football stadium and all of the college games that were played throughout the season. The kids were brimming with excitement every time they got the opportunity to watch, which brought serene joy to Erick’s heart in his choice to dedicate his career to these children.
By Tyler Fletcher6 years ago in Families
Chai or Coffee?
For as long as I can remember, my father woke up every morning and made a large pot of chai. He was a poet, an artist - I knew because I’d seen his old souvenir notebooks filled with rhyming verse, frayed sticky notes and hotel napkins decorated with elaborate sketches of cars.
By Anaakhya Kavi6 years ago in Families
The Inheritance
“A nice little windfall,” I said to myself, looking at the check for $20,000. My dog raised his head, stared at me, then huffed a sigh and laid his snout back down onto his paws. I had interrupted his nap. Well, his latest nap. He takes several a day.
By Cheryl Gross6 years ago in Families
"Millions to One"
It is after midnight. The Kimball residence in South Highlands is dark, save a light on in the living room. Rose Kimball sits alone in her nightgown, overcome with emotion. She laughs, smiles, sniffs and sobs. The middle aged woman looks once more at the well worn “little black book” in her hand, gently closes it, and works to compose herself. Slowly, Rose creaks her way upright, turns out the light and heads to bed.
By Joey D Kent6 years ago in Families
Pennies From Heaven
The dusty tan Impala station wagon slowed to a crawl in yet another tiny town in the southern Okanagan region of British Columbia. Nearly as road weary as the car, a passel of children tumbled out of all available passenger doors as the driver, a woman with dark hair pulled into two long ponytails draped over her ears, eased to the curb along what appeared to be the town’s main street. The woman and the smallest child, a blond boy, headed for a bank across the street from the parked vehicle. The other two children looked up and down the road and then selected a bank about a block away. The girl appeared older, though not much taller than the boy, but she led the way confidently as if she knew exactly what she was doing and where she was going. The boy, looking mildly annoyed followed a half pace behind.
By Maria Calderoni6 years ago in Families
The Final Christmas Tree
Walking the long way back to her seat from Mr. Robertson’s desk, Catherine glanced outside the tall thin window to see if it had started snowing yet. Living in the Selkirk mountains you’d think the children would tire of the deep snow, but to the contrary each new downpour was celebrated. It was almost Christmas vacation and the student’s were eager for long days romping and cavorting through the snowy yards and neighborhoods. At nine, Catherine was a slight girl, the shortest in her class. Short yes, but not in confidence. She and David Stewart, who was of similar stature, constantly vied for the moniker “Smartest Kid in the class.” Though never conferred as such by the teachers, they compared every grade and test and constantly asked for extra work to stay ahead. Both David and Catherine were well behaved and often called upon to be the teacher’s helper. On this particular day they were racing each other to finish the most times table worksheets. Though only third graders they had cajoled the teacher into giving them multi digit multiplication worksheets and each worked diligently trying to finish the most problems correctly. When the lunch bell rang, these two stayed put finishing their final problems until the teacher grabbed their work and sent them off to get lunch. “It’s snowing!” excitedly called a first grader from the eastern corner of the large one room schoolhouse. The first and second graders had the best view outside as their classes faced the large playground and they had larger windows. Everyone rushed to finish their homemade lunches, eating at their desks and then cleaning up quickly. It was a race to get outside and make the first footprints in all the fresh snow! The snow banks were already taller than the tallest children and the untouched snow, though there wasn’t much of that, was at least 3 feet deep. And now more was coming down rapidly.
By Maria Calderoni6 years ago in Families
A Creative Ledger
A Creative Ledger Chapter 1: Keeping Track I looked to my hands, black, covered in tar, and took a heavy seat in the front of the truck. Another job done. Another tick off the list. The barrel of tar was still half full and would need to be lifted into the back of the trailer. Aside from that, we were ready to move on. I wiped my hands across my trousers, and opened the little black book, careful not to smudge the address we were headed to next.
By Janelle Bange6 years ago in Families
And So It Happens
Florida put her hands over her face. It was enough. It was too much. She could no longer pretend that everything was okay. It wasn’t. It had not been for a long time. She blew out a breath, or maybe she should be taking one in. Either way, she felt calmer. She almost broke down for a minute, and that would not do in front of her sixth-grade math class.
By Fatima Hyman6 years ago in Families
The Black Book
Jeff opened the door to find Miranda standing there. Her face was blotchy and wet with tears and snot. She looked like a child again; his little girl who had fallen and scraped her knee. She did not move or look at his face. He did not need to see her eyes. He knew them too well. Emerald green with a gold ring at their center. Even when she cried, they were still beautiful, an exact replica of her mother’s eyes. Just a quick glance at them and he would be hooked again. He was relieved that she was looking down, it made closing the door easier.
By Jessica Swearingen6 years ago in Families
