literature
Families and literature go hand in hand; fictional families to entertain, reflect and inspire.
Empty Spaces
Peter had been prattling with the antique shop owner when his son, Wally, appeared behind him like _____________ a guardian angel.
Stephen HainesPublished 3 years ago in FamiliesLittle Black Book
If I could’ve punched Olivia Day in the fucking face, I would’ve. I hate thinking of my best comebacks after the fact. It makes me want to have the fight all over again. I would’ve told her the only reason boys in school like her is because they know how easy she is. She’d sleep with any boy who gave her attention because she’s so fucked up from her daddy issues. Or I would’ve told her that her haircut is stupid. But instead, Olivia Day commented on me having two moms and you know what I said?
Cheyenne PajardoPublished 3 years ago in FamiliesViolet Rose
Lola was feeling a bit unsettled as she boarded the Air France direct flight to Paris to visit her grand daughter. A note was left by her late husband, and it had something to do with this trip, but what?
The Petaridge Legacy
Jason Petaridge shuffled in his seat at the rear of the conference room. The estate’s lawyer insisted that his attendance was mandatory but did not indicate why. Jason was the family’s black sheep, and the recently-departed Philip Petaridge despised his grandson’s soft, liberal attitude.
Gregory CholmondeleyPublished 3 years ago in FamiliesSquiggles
Lindsey climbed the last few steep steps before pausing to catch her breath. She furrowed her brow and put her hand to her eyes to take in the view from the Great Wall. It was her second week in China and her third month spent travelling. Around her, tourists bustled and took clumsy photos; silhouettes in the blinding sun. She took in the clean air and snapped a quick shot of the great, green mountains and valleys, carving out the ridges that bore the wall like a majestic crown of stone and cloud.
Kathryn SlaterPublished 3 years ago in FamiliesThe Fourth Wiseman
The fourth wiseman Most people know the tale of the three wiseman who journeyed from far and wide to bring treasured gifts to celebrate the birth of a baby boy.
Rose EricsonPublished 3 years ago in FamiliesThe Little Black Book
As I jumped out, covered in dust, with a tremendous feeling of accomplishment, hubby couldn't help smiling when my massive dust-filled sneeze scared our poor dog "Chocolate," who must've jumped a foot above the ground. We all had a good laugh watching her expressions. That's when Rasna, my daughter, came running to me and almost grabbed the box from my hands. "What's is this box?" She asked curiously. "I have no idea," I replied, shrugging my shoulders while walking towards the family room. I continued, "it’s something Nani (Granny) left at our house. Then she got sick and passed away, and we forgot about this box.” Rasna screamed with excitement, “let’s see, Cmon,” and we sat on the deck and opened the box.
Kavita TalujaPublished 3 years ago in FamiliesThe Real Sunset is Never Lemon Scented
Grey can be beautiful. Beautiful in its monotony, in its consistence, in its dedication to being ardently bleak. Grey can be beautiful in its persistent capacity to be wholesomely ugly.
Amber Marie CielPublished 3 years ago in FamiliesBarbeque and Burning Tires
The year was 1965. I was 15 and this was going to be my last summer working for Daddy Fox. I was just finishing 8th grade and starting high school in the fall. I had landed a job working after school and in the summers at a local fast-food joint called Burger Chef. It is long gone now but in the 60s was a strong competitor to McDonald's.
Sisters?!
Are you all sisters?! To have two people I’ve seen my whole life and thanks to COVID just realizing how so alike they are is mind blowing. People always say they favor their father or mother in looks but my mom legit gave birth to herself! To first answer the question, one of these women is my sister and the other one is my mother. Let’s not gas her up, just kidding she looks bomb for her age! My sister is my mother in that they act just alike in work ethic and in fun. These two women are so creative in all their artistry sometimes it aggravates me that I didn’t get that DNA gene in full, I have like a quarter. I am humbled I get to continue to watch their creativity grow from where it use to be. I admire both my mom and sister aka the Lone Wolves. Along time ago like in grade school I remember my sister telling me she felt like the odd ball of our family and how she felt out of place but I think she fits perfectly. I’m the awkward introverted one who was just really good at sports which inadvertently meant more attention in a sense, at least that’s what she thought about it. She has always been the fearless one in saying what’s on her mind and expressing herself while I’m that shy novel text message writer that everyone hates. She’s independent, poised with a streak of rebellion, and unmoved by sappy romantic comedies that I ask her to watch with me. We are as close to similar as opposites can be. Refocusing on her talents, my sister has been designing things for as long as I can remember. I first noticed it when she stitched some denim jeans into a purse. She then would put different fabrics and outfits together, we all thought she wanted to sew clothes…wrong. Fast forward to her high school and college years she realized she didn’t want to be the seamstress but to be the person creating that one prototype for a factory to insure the desired quantity, the designer instead. She pretty much is self-taught in every aspect from hair to knitting to technology. She said you can learn how to do everything from YouTube, and proves it true to me every time. I watched her results in decorating a whole dorm floor in forest and flower like nuances, creating The Struggle Bus Project, freelance graphic designer and photographer work all the while making baby steps to her dream career of being a business owner creating an interior design line and graphic cozy wear. Think of it as like an Urban Outfitters but black owned.
Kinetic Pink vs. Myrtle Green
There they were, snowbound and quarantined in a small Boston apartment—Mom, Step-dad, daughter, and her significant other, all doing the millennial thing: actively engaging with their cellphones even though face to face communication would have used up less data, and it had been a long time since they’d all seen each other since the “rents,” as Eva called them, lived 8 hours away.
Alex GlennPublished 3 years ago in FamiliesThe loss
There wasn’t much happening on this gloomy rainy Saturday afternoon. The toil Of work had been tedious but a blessing for Mitch the last two weeks.