family
Bull
Those antlers mounted there, with the bullet puncture between the skull’s sockets, are familiar. I must decline your invitation. You see, I went out hunting once already, twenty three years ago.
Jacqueline GarrahanPublished 2 years ago in FictionThe Great Snowball Battle
This story goes with a game. The game is played as follows: The story below is read while the players of the game sit in a circle and pass an item around. It could be a prize that they play for, or it could be a token item.
Julie LacksonenPublished 2 years ago in FictionTHE NAKED TREE
Winter is here, Christmas is just around the corner, and I am supposed to be settling into my new home in Montana. Yet, here I am in Washington with most of my belongings packed and in storage. But that is a story for another day.
CJ FlanneryPublished 2 years ago in FictionUgly is just skin deep.
I could hear the cooing and wonderous exclamations from outside, quickening my pace, I flung open the wire door and scooped the eggs from my sloppy joe as quickly as I could, grinning widely as I dumped the eggs in a basket and attempted greet my family whom I hadn't seen for years and who had suddenly appeared in my loungeroom. But nobody seemed to notice I was there, they didn't hear my excited welcomes or feel my presence in any shape or form. They were too engulfed in the thing they were inspecting on the lounge, which I had no way of getting to, for the crowd who stubbornly and greedily blocked my view, let alone my path.
Karen MontgomeryPublished 2 years ago in FictionUncle Lefty
This story goes with a game. It is played as follows: The story below is read while the players of the game sit in a circle and pass an item around. It could be a prize that they play for, or it could be a token item. I am going to use a stuffed critter I got from a secret Santa gift exchange. His name is Pickles.
Julie LacksonenPublished 2 years ago in FictionRed Ink
When I was six years old, my grandfather told me that if a name is written in red ink, death or misfortune will soon follow that person. The color of blood was reserved for names on gravestones or obituaries. Never for those still alive, he said.
Samantha PyoPublished 2 years ago in FictionFalse Face
I stretched my neck to look at the entrance as I heard the cheerful voice that woke half of the office every day. Just looking at his face stirred something deep inside me, a silhouette of an emotion I couldn’t name. Or perhaps, I knew what it was, only that I didn’t want to acknowledge it. That emotion was envy!
Madiha JamalPublished 2 years ago in FictionA Mother's Priority | Chapter 4
Tate pounded a fist into the wall just inches away from my cheek before stepping back and walking back into the kitchen to grab himself another beer bottle from the fridge, as if nothing else just happened.
The Empty Picture Frame
Sarah loved going to see her grandma, not only because she loved spending time with the old lady who was never too busy for a game, but also because aunt Alissa’s room was at grandma’s house. Aunt Alissa travelled a lot, but whenever she came home, she came to live with grandma in the room filled with all kinds of pictures, and photographs, and books, and all sorts of little ornaments. Sarah loved to just look around even when aunt Alissa wasn’t there. And when aunt Alissa was there, the room came alive with all her stories.
Meliha AvdicPublished 2 years ago in FictionSierra
This cousin of mine, Sierra, was a short, red-headed, infuriated teenager. She was about 12 years older than me, the youngest and only daughter of one my mom’s sisters.
Cris FariasPublished 2 years ago in FictionTHE SECRET NOTEBOOK
THE SECRET NOTEBOOK By Seletha M. Head-Tucker December 18, 2021 It was heartbreaking thinking about the death of my favorite aunt, Rosie. She treated me as if I were her own child even though she had several of her own. I tried hard to get through the day without the tears flowing. I was startled when the phone rang. It was my cousin Tammy. Ugh, what does she want, I thought?
Seletha Head TuckerPublished 2 years ago in FictionOn The Stairs
The last period tardy bell was about to ring however, Madison was still lingering on the stairway. She dreads this class. She is a senior and she needs to make an A in this class. Hesistantly, she makes herself get up and head to class. Her parents are counting on her getting into Harvard, Personally, she wants to attend the local university. She does not want to leave her boo, Travis, who is planning to attend the local university. Travis goes to another high school in the city. They met a rival basketball game a year ago.
Words by MaryPublished 2 years ago in Fiction