family
For Always
“Mercury, Venus, Earth.” I closed my eyes, trying to control my breathing as the car came to a stop. How much more of this can I take? I wiped my cheek. The afternoon sun streamed through the windshield, the glare casting my vision into sepia relief. Looking out of the window, the fields of coppery flowers seemed to roll like high tide, blurred by bitter tears.
By Irene Ross3 years ago in Fiction
My Mama's Secrets
I knew I should have worn pants instead of shorts, but the house was sweltering. The air conditioning unit was broken, the ceiling fans didn’t work, and it was the middle of summer in Georgia. My shirt clung to my back drenched in sweat. The hardwood floor bit into my knees as I kneeled and looked into yet another box that my mother had tossed useless stuff in.
By Cassie Woods3 years ago in Fiction
Pictures don't make up for time
Gregory opened the door to quite a surprise: another person. He had not had visitors in… well a significant margin of time as he could not remember the last. He went to shake hands as that was what one was to do when greeting another. Instead the young postman put a clipboard in his hand and asked him to sign for a package.
By Jackson Forck3 years ago in Fiction
The Box on the Bed
As I look around my room, all I see is a giant mess. My mom is making me clean my room today before I play any video games, especially the shooter MPG I got yesterday. She knew I was going to avoid it, so she hid my PlayStation! I mean, come on, don't you think that's a little dramatic? That means, here I am cleaning my room well more like shoving my dirty clothes under my bed and hiding everything else in my closet.
By Karina Ruiz3 years ago in Fiction
Kip
Uncle Kip drinks his vodka tonic like it’s telling him a secret—quick and frantic before anyone can notice. His body sways to the pings of the slot machines, spitting out coins and false hope. There are two kinds of people at a casino—people who play to win money and people who play the slots. At this moment, Uncle Kip is neither. His drunk thumbs can barely push the buttons. But I don’t interfere.
By Cara Rothenberg3 years ago in Fiction
Chasing Dreams and Dragonflies
“Dragonfly!” she exclaimed. “Daddy, come quick. There’s a dragonfly.” But he was consumed with work. It was a muggy late afternoon, the worst time of day to be working in a backyard garage. Cars don’t just break down in fall and winter, he always told his wife, and if I don’t fix them, well someone else’s gonna get their money.
By Melanie McGehee3 years ago in Fiction
These Are a Few of My Favourite Things
As the slender upper branches of the gums whipped about in the wind Charlie stood as still as stone. Her eyes however continued to scour the trees for the creature. Since it would be feeling scared and hunted she had to be extra cautious now. Charlie grimaced as a twig snapped beneath her foot, apart from the wind there was no noise out here. The bush having a lull between the activity of the day and the dash of the smaller creatures who would come out during the dusk to seek safe food.
By Diana Trezona3 years ago in Fiction
Lessons In Listening
“Don’t touch that!” Startled in her tracks, Alexa whips her head around. Oscar stands in the doorway with his quivering forefinger pointing to the brown paper package at the edge of the porch and a wild look in his eyes—they dart around the property for any sign of the mysterious courier.
By Spencer Hamilton 3 years ago in Fiction
The most exciting place to work
My father worked at the box factory for 40 years and told me to never end up there. It was not a profession that offered much respect. Most people assumed that anyone could make a box and assumed that’s how they are made. But there is a need in the job market for professional box makers. Somehow your fireworks, your candies and your nails need to get to you somehow.
By Paul Armstrong3 years ago in Fiction