family
Memories Aren’t Always Real
As the dust settles around me, I'm drawn back into the memories of what had been. The memories fly past in a whirl of emotions. I can't seem to stop them as they quickly blur through my mind. All those times when I needed your love and you gladly gave it.
By Kristen Barenthalerabout a year ago in Fiction
How Two People Fight Over One Tiny Device
Tom and Jenny had been married for five years, and if there was one thing they both agreed on, it was this: the TV remote was the most powerful—and most contested—object in their household. It was less a device and more a symbol of power, peace, and the occasional silent treatment.
By Mahayud Dinabout a year ago in Fiction
The Boy Who Never Spoke
Each night, the apartment falls silent, except for the faint hum of city life beyond the windows and the occasional creak of old pipes. To most, these sounds are just the rhythms of an aging building. But to me, the sounds mean much more; it is my son, Tony, letting me know that he is forever by my side.
By Anthony Chanabout a year ago in Fiction











