literature
Families and literature go hand in hand; fictional families to entertain, reflect and inspire.
Contemporary Nomads
The local news caught wind of the oddest, sweetest story without ever recognizing the clues that lie in front of them. Valerie was comfortable with that, though.
Vikas WadhwaPublished 3 years ago in FamiliesIf you're reading this
If you are reading this, To my last breath I find it hard to put you into words. For what you are, from the moment I saw you come into this world. This matched none of the stories about angels I’ve heard but here you are. To this day you’ve been by my side. My most beloved reason for existence. Sariah. A duty and honor now given to me let it be said proudly. From this day forth, blessed with a child, a mystery everyday to solve. Words inspired from Mr. Jermaine, should my presence leave this estate, I want you to read this from beginning to end. So I'm leaving you this little black book, for your eyes only. Let this collection of words be the lesson you bear deepest in your heart.
Denzell WashingtonPublished 3 years ago in FamiliesPriceless Heirlooms
The little black book sat in the center of my mahogany dining room table, haunting me for the past two weeks. I had managed to avoid even looking at it, but as other people continued to ask questions that could only be answered in between the pages of the book's cover, I knew I couldn't avoid it any longer.
Keaidy SelmonPublished 3 years ago in FamiliesRedemption
The little girl resting on her back on the porch swing moved it back and forth with each gentle movement of her right foot. Her movements came with very little effort and with her eyes shut she was lost in her own world. A world of soft sounds, here and there, birds singing, the buzz of a bumble bee on Mama’s roses, Mama humming spirituals in the kitchen, and the occasional car headed down the red clay road that led to the highway and to places unknown were the only sounds that stirred the quiet of steamy summer afternoon. The light that penetrated the trees in the front yard danced across her mahogany face that was smooth and baby soft punctuated by a dimple in each cheek and a curious smile on full pink lips. Not much else to do cause it was so dang hot, everyone on Clayton Road had their windows and front doors open wide to catch whatever breeze they could. Occasionally, you would hear a screen door slam shut as someone came or went about their business. The thin sleeveless shirt that she wore stuck to her body in various places and her pedal pushers pants showed signs of wear, but Kat didn’t care she just wanted to stay cool, and laying here on the swing was getting the job done. Katheryn Deloris Purcell was eleven in August of 1960 and would turn twelve on August twenty-first an event that she so looked forward to that she could hardly wait. Mama and Papa had promised her a big birthday party to celebrate and all her friends were invited.
Sharon J. El MouhibPublished 3 years ago in Familieslittle black jackpot
John walks to his apartment around 5pm everyday. He places his briefcase behind the door and hangs his keys on the left hand side hook of the entrance. Along with his dog, Junie they are headed to the balcony to join his girlfriend Ann for a quick snack before dinner. However, on his way over, John finds Ann in the living room with a concerned look on her face and the telephone faced down on the coffee table next to her. John wondering what could’ve possibly happened, he rushes to console her, worried that she may have gotten some bad news over the phone. Ann quickly stands up and stops him from hugging her, she then explains to him that his sister, Nermacalled but she didn’t explain the details as to why she was calling. She said it was urgent and that John should call her back as soon as possible. John stares at Ann with a confused look on his face because he hasn’t spoken to any of his siblings or father since the passing of his grandfather especially after how things went when finding out that he had only inherited boxes filled with old books while his siblings received money and property. The eventful night ended with a heated conversation between John and his family about the choices he made in life, which resulted in John storming off and never seeing or speaking to his family again. The feud between John and Ann’s family goes twenty years back. John’s late grandpa, Robert and, Ann’s grandpa, Albert were business partners and really good friends at that, like many failed friendship, they’re business failed as well. Albert could never get over Robert leaving him in a fragile financial state. In addition to being at odds, they even went back and forth for years, threatening to end each other's careers.John’s family believe that Ann’s grandfather took it too far when he filed a lawsuit against their late grandfather Robert. John is really taken back by what his girlfriend is telling him. The telephone starts to ring and John and Ann are looking at each other, as John reaches out to answer the phone on the second ring. He answers and says “Hello, Nerma?” John answered with no hesitation, “yeah I'll be right there.”Ann asked John about what was going on. John responded by saying he had no idea and that Nerma said that it was important that he meet with her at his grandfather’s place right this moment. On his way out the door, Ann jumped in front of John, grabbed his head, looked into his eyes, and kissed him on the forehead, she then whispers into his ear “No secrets right?” “We are transparent about everything, right, John?”
NamelessReadsPublished 3 years ago in FamiliesA day in this world
Today is a day that I shall never forget. I woke to the alarm at 4:30 am as usual. I felt tired yet inspired. I dropped off the kids at work and drove back home; I saw the sun starting to light up in the horizon, I was still tired and headed back to bed. But I could not shake the feeling that I needed to do something different. I finally got up at 8:30 and headed to shower while the sounds of the birds outside made me feel like I was missing out on the best morning ever.
Claudia RodriguezPublished 3 years ago in Familiesfive/18
6/25/2020 Esther slumped, like a grain sack half-full, upon the tailgate of a 1973 Chevrolet C10. The old farm truck never changed - crusty, faded yellow and white. The one difference was the absence of Uncle Ross.
Mick EffiePublished 3 years ago in FamiliesIf
If I hadn’t slipped, this day would have turned out very differently. If the street cleaner had started just a bit earlier, there may have been nothing to find. If the rain from the night before hadn’t made the leaves treacherous underfoot, if the bus not been early, I would have got to school on time and it would have been a normal Thursday in the first year of secondary school.
Terry ToolanPublished 3 years ago in FamiliesThe Boneyard
"What does it matter who you are in your past or in your future if you are no one now." ,My Grandfathers sharp last words to me echoed in my mind as I stood in his tractor barn...wind blowing the loose tin panels above me up to rattle back down hard again. This place was deteriorating since his death. His impact on this world slowly fading away, we had already sold most of the equipment, Tractors, machinery, and various other farming implements from a lifetime of the honest and grueling work of supporting a family of 10 with peanut and cattle farming.
caleb zammitPublished 3 years ago in FamiliesLucky Sevens
Part I I was seventeen when I learned that my aunt Janice had won $20,000 on a scratch-off. It was after school and I was glued to the t.v. watching soaps. The phone rang but I was splayed on the floor with a bowl of cereal and didn’t feel like getting up. My mother answered in the next room. “Oh, hi Jan.” I turned my attention back to the show. A bellow broke the lull—“You’re kidding!” and in quick succession, “How much?” and “My Lord!” I bolted upright. I went to the doorway and tried to make eye contact but was shooed away.
Michelle E. MaitlandPublished 3 years ago in FamiliesOne Million Times
I watched my grandmother cook a million times. She’d bake bread when she could have bought it. It’s what she’d always done. And weren’t we happier for it? I always marveled at how she could knead the dough with her frail arms. I tried, many times, and each time my arms gave out before the gluten could bond. She made wheat bread, rye bread, refrigerator rolls, potato loaf, and focaccia and sourdough and pumpernickel. Richness of the dark grains, light break of the crust, the structure so dense it seemed to defy logic that butter melted so well into its grained web. These bread recipes were all captured in a little black notebook.
Heather WysePublished 3 years ago in FamiliesWater of Life
I have been on this all my life and again last night, I fell asleep dreaming about its wonderfulness and when I woke up, my skinny arm stretched to reach the glass of water. I am here, naked in the depth of this old apartment as it became quite cold on Atlantic Avenue.
Alice K.S.Published 3 years ago in Families