family
First day. Honorable Mention in You Had to Be There. Content Warning.
Tiny trembling hands fiddled with the buttons on her dress. They couldn’t stay straight, it was wrinkled. She hated that, she wanted everything to be perfect. She hated to leave her mom, hated to give up the great times watching ‘Bobby’s World’ or ‘Moon Dreamers’ with chocolate milk and bologna sandwiches. She liked them with mustard. She would at least know one person she was going to school with. Her uncle’s friend had a daughter her age and they were best friends. That was a relief. The world flew by as she rode on her mom’s lap in the passenger’s side of her grandpa’s blue S-10. Everything was familiar for now, until they got to the little school. It was already noon and she was glad she didn’t have to wake up early like some of the other kids. Her backpack bounced against her back as she held her mom’s hand as they walked down the giant hallway. This is the first time she would be somewhere alone without her mom or some other family member nearby.
By Raine Fielder4 months ago in Fiction
The Fog
Howdy, Stranger. Yes, indeed, you are very lost. Now, don’t you start. Sure, we might speak with an accent, because English isn’t our first language. Our linguistic chain goes farther back than yourn, youngling, the least you can do is be polite to the person trying to assist you.
By Meredith Harmon4 months ago in Fiction
Effie & Simon
She's in my bed again. I'm sat here on the sofa. I'll sleep here, once I'm done, and it won't be comfortable, but she's welcome to what little comfort she can take at this point. Bruised again? Maybe. Gaunt, definitely. She's sleeping the restless sleep of the truly exhausted, only to wake up empty.
By L.C. Schäfer4 months ago in Fiction
The Last Train to Willowbrook. AI-Generated.
Elara Voss tightened her coat against the November wind slicing through King’s Cross station. The 23:47 to Willowbrook was never busy, but tonight the platform felt unnaturally empty. Only the fluorescent lights buzzed overhead like dying insects. She checked her phone again—no signal, no messages from her sister. Just the same unanswered text: I’m coming. Don’t do anything stupid.
By Waleed khan4 months ago in Fiction
Once I Was Whole
We are all of us born with incomplete souls. No one tells us this when we are children. We are taught that the ache within us, which we are not always aware of, is hunger, or loneliness, or some other sort of failing that can be outgrown with time or discipline. We just need to power through, to find something to focus on to take our minds off of it and put that energy somewhere that the world deems more useful than the agony of waiting to find those missing pieces. They hand you books and toys and prayers and other people, hoping that maybe they will help us feel a little bit less like something inside of us is misplaced.
By Catherine Gilpin4 months ago in Fiction
Her (ii)
At my insistence, Mother found an old photo of my father. In it, he was stood in front of an old car, a forearm resting on the open door. He was wearing sunglasses, the top four buttons of his shirt were undone, and his hair was being lifted by a stray breeze.
By L.C. Schäfer4 months ago in Fiction
