family
Memories in the Garden
The year we moved into the big house on Arbor Lane was the year Momma got the fever. The doctor called it Hay Fever, but we didn’t know what that was. All we could tell was that Momma had to lay down with a cool towel on her face anytime she’d been out near the garden.
By Pam Sievert-Russomanno3 years ago in Fiction
A Box of Love
It was a brilliant day out. The sun was shining and the air was perfect. The breeze wafted gently across the scurrying people, and gently cooled the body. We had been having a heat wave, and the air had been heavy, today was the first day in weeks that it felt just right. I had decided it was the perfect time to go for a walk in the park.
By Carrie Green3 years ago in Fiction
The Package
I've never been one to succumb to desire. Conditions that would tempt most everyone else simply remind me of how much I don't care about the packages I deliver. It's just a job; something that is effortless enough to make a living yet gets me out of the apartment. I've delivered dozens of packages this summer and none of them even remotely sparked my curiosity. None, except for one...
By Ryan Toothaker3 years ago in Fiction
Butterflies and Marigolds
In the immortal words of Edgar Allan Poe, “All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.” Right now, my life feels more like a nightmare. It’s only been ten days, ten of the longest days of my life. I never knew living could hurt this much until I lost one of the dearest lives I knew. Mamá was gone, poof, just like that. I held her hand as she took her last breaths; they never tell you it’s more than one. You imagine that it’ll be quick, a closing of the eyes, a chest that ceases to rise. But there is so much oxygen in a human body that must be expelled, so much life that has to exit so that it may float on the wind to the next plane of existence. When I realized the hand in mine was limp and lifeless, I gripped it tighter trying to will her soul back into that battered body. It was selfish of me, but in those moments, I just wanted her back, if only for a second. I don’t think Mamá knew how much I loved her, how much she meant to me.
By Bianca Serraty3 years ago in Fiction
A Good Day to Die
“Is today a good day to die?”, I heard faintly whispered in my ear and I shifted in my sleep, sliding my left foot up and down the inside of my right leg. Climbing out of my sleep fog, I tried to remember the question I had just heard. But like many dreams, when my eyes popped open, my memory slammed shut. However, the feeling of unease stayed with me.
By Polly Cavill3 years ago in Fiction
Tinder Love Happiness: What is it all about?
I had coffee while scrolling through Tinder on my phone. After reading profiles and swiping right for thirty minute — there was only one match that caught my attention. His name was Zack. He had a pretty cute swag, with his messy hair and confident eyes staring at me from the picture.
By Irina Patterson3 years ago in Fiction
Sharkie
The Munsons live in Lititz, Pennsylvania. John Munson works as an Insurance Salesman and his wife Judy, is a part time Florist. Together they have a month of vacation every summer. They work hard to save up for their special time with their little boy Jimmie, 6 years old. This summer, the plan is to rent a houseboat in Florida and live out on the ocean, get some fresh sea air, away from televisions, cellphones and the noise of cars and people, and maybe catch a few fish.
By Neville Nicol3 years ago in Fiction
Family
Alexander never understood or felt true love until she entered his life and altered its course. Mary worked as a receptionist at the factory, where Alex worked as a welder, and they rode the same bus to work each morning. Each day they would walk from the bus stop to the factory together and had become good friends. He looked forward to seeing her every workday morning and would wish the hours away every weekend in anticipation of seeing her again on Monday.
By Gerald Holmes3 years ago in Fiction
The Secret's in Nome
Steve flipped through the photo album while sitting on an old trunk in an attic. He had come to his recently deceased great uncle Ted’s house to sift through the remaining belongings to see what might be of interest that he would like to keep from the estate. The rest of his great uncle’s family had already been through the house. But his great uncle Ted didn’t have any close family, and the attic had scarcely been picked through by anyone else. Getting up the retractable attic stairs was difficult. Whatever the case, Steve sat at the dusty trunk with the photo album in hand, flipping through pictures of times past.
By Chris Rohe3 years ago in Fiction
Taming the Beast
When I was 7 years old I started working in the tobacco fields. My mother, who had split from my dad for what seemed like the upteenth time, left me for the summer in the care of her older sister and her husband on their farm in South Carolina while she went to secretarial college in Raleigh.
By Jean Williiams3 years ago in Fiction
Meadow's Garden
Meadow woke up early on Saturday morning. She had gone out with friends the previous evening, but she had managed to get home to bed by midnight. Her friends all had husbands and children to get home to, so it wasn’t that difficult to do. She was the only one in her group of friends that lived alone, but she liked it that way.
By Dawn Salois3 years ago in Fiction