family
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
Daughter Of The Sea
Captain Kilgore proudly inspected his ship, the S.S Starlight was his pride and joy. He had spent most of his life sailing the vast ocean. When he was only twelve years old his father introduced him to saltwater fishing. He loved the smell of the sea and the feeling of controlling his own ship and crew. Fishing for Alaskan Shellfish was much more than a means of securing the necessities of life. It was an intoxication that surged through his veins and filled his heart with jubilation.
By Rebecca Lynn Ivey3 years ago in Fiction
16 Year Bet
What do you do when you lose a bet with a dead man? Grandfathers’ funeral was today, Mother spent the afternoon crying with a black tissue tucked between her fingers while Father whispered in her ear that it would be alright. My brothers, Daniel and Nicolas stood by the casket while our broken Grandmother kneeled on the ground in front of the wooden box that held Grandfathers body. I wondered if the casket had to be customed ordered to fit his fat ass; dead or not, he wasn’t an Olympian to say the least. I stood there, nearby but at a further distance to escape from the sympathy. I loved the old man, I did, but he left me with a burden that I had to wrap my mind around; a little box wrapped up in the ugliest brown paper and a bet that kept this box shut.
By Jessica Kubicki3 years ago in Fiction
The Hour Is Upon Us
As my daughter places the brown paper wrapped box in front of me, my body tenses. I knew the time would come for me to receive this package. After 18 years instead of waiting and preparing I got comfortable, maybe even content living in my human form, but looking down as this box I realized that my father and mother were right. It was the exact reason I was trained to be a warrior. My name is Almina which means Earth, I'll explain later why my name is important. Looking into my curious daughter's eyes who we named Isipho which means gift and she was definitely a gift to us. I'm not sure how to explain to a now 18 year old about war that is trying to come to Earth. How do I start? Should I start from the beginning to a place where we originated from? (Sighs) Perhaps I should have told her who I was. NO! Who she was the moment her level of intelligence could grasp all of this. Once I open this brown paper box there is no going back to normal for us. Only now is not the time to tell her everything, not on her 18th birthday, the day she has been so excited about. I promised her so much on this and I'll try to my best to give her just that. Her laughter, her playfulness, her enjoyment of everything her heart desires is the only thing I see right now. As she questions me about the gift, "Everything has a timing and that time has come, but you will know the whole story to my answer another day". I respond with my homeland dialect that she loves so much that she in a second she can speak it just as well. I smile as when she rolls her eyes in that playful way. I wish this package had not shown up, but I know there is a time for peace and a time for war. Yes, tomorrow I must tell her everything, unfortunately we have three days to return to our homeland and home on land that she knows nothing about. Yes, I denied her the knowing of this land foolishly thinking that I was protecting her, but I now see the errors in my way. Yes tomorrow.
By Zontroir Alexander3 years ago in Fiction
El Matador
There was once a cruel man. The cruel man is called Fidel. Fidel doesn't like anyone in the town. Fidel rules the town with an iron fist and does not treat the people well at all. The only thing that Fidel and the townsfolk share is a common interest in bullfighting. Fidel likes to watch bullfights at the Colosseum. The Colosseum is the home of Fidel’s prized bull named El Toro. Fidel especially likes to watch El Toro dominate Matadors in bullfights. Many times, the Matadors are local townsfolk. Everyone goes to the bullfight on Saturdays. The People have fun there as it is the only place where Fidel treats then somewhat decently. El Toro is the scariest bull in all of Mexico. He's a very big black bull, with large pointy horns. The bull El Toro always wins.
By Micah Hartman3 years ago in Fiction
Evelyn's Seat
Sludging through the drifting snow, Callie’s heart was filled with apprehension and sadness. She felt her foot slip, which caused her to squeeze a little tighter the large cardboard box full of individual egg custards she carried with mittened hands. It was her grandmother’s recipe. Thanksgiving would not be the same without her grandmother’s egg custard, and if they couldn’t have the woman herself, they should at least have something that carried just a little of her essence.
By S.A. Paris 3 years ago in Fiction
The Marigolds Saved Me
I couldn't do it any longer. I wanted everything to stop. Mother always said to put on a brave smile. To push through the dark spots but, I can't. I keep trying to be the person my family and friends remember. But I couldn't recognize the girl they begged me to be. I wasn't her anymore, I don't think I ever will be. I try to be this brave soul, yet I am so far gone.
By Stephanie Rueff3 years ago in Fiction
A TRIP TO PARADISE
Short Story by O’Shay Beamon: O’Shay Beamon Author: [email protected] It was the summer of her youth approaching her senior year, 1995 a hot and humid gulf coast day. All was well with her grades enough credits to advance and graduate with her class, which meant no summer school! Aoife pronounced (ee-fa) was a petite girl with long auburn hair sprinkled with golden flecks, a slightly freckled face, and a pair of large hazel eyes. Her cheekbones set rather high seem to give away her Hispanic heritage. But then, what was up with that olive skin tone; her Gaelic lineage highlighted her outer exterior, she loved both the cultures of her family which made her uniquely Her. Life for Aoife was laid back and unpretentious; her parents divorced long ago which was the normality of her blended family, nothing weird about it to Aoife - just status quo.
By Oshay Beamon3 years ago in Fiction
The Madness of the Left-Handed McKennedy Women
I grew up knowing that left-handed women in my family go mad in their fortieth year. I’m not sure anyone explained this to me. The madness of the left-handed McKennedy women was a fact that settled into our knowing. The sun rises in the east, dogs bark, rain is wet, left-handed McKennedy women go mad after forty.
By Pennie Nichols3 years ago in Fiction