family
Chocolate Reckoning
We grew up in a simple home, a home filled with plain things. There was no TV, no fine china and most days no shoes on the calloused feet of that ten year old boy running down the streets of Jackson, Mississippi. Jackson was a pretty plain place to grow up; most folks didn’t have much. My brothers and I had learned to make lots out of nothin. There were four of us—my older brother Charlie who was fourteen, my eight year old brother Ryan, the four year old—Jake, and me. I’m sure you can imagine just how inventive four boys growing up in the backwoods of nowhere can be. My momma always said, “Less is more—Johnny”, anytime I’d complain about what we didn’t have. I always thought it was because it made her feel better about what she couldn’t give us, and maybe it was, but I’m beginning to think there might have been a lot more to what she had to say.
By Natalie Stover3 years ago in Fiction
Sweet Memories
The light in the entryway flickers. I take a deeper breath in than the one before, but it still doesn't feel like enough. On my exhale, the light steadies. I close my eyes. By the time I open them, the light begins to flicker again. I take an even deeper breath in and hold it as I stand up; I walk across the room and flip the switch. I exhale as the darkness surrounds me.
By Jaci Schreckengost3 years ago in Fiction
Grandma's Recipe
One cup of cocoa powder. One cup of all-purpose flour. One cup of melted butter— The voices in my head are quiet when I’m baking. And with each ingredient that I throw into the bowl, I become less alone. With each ingredient, Grandma takes a step towards me.
By Khadija Malik3 years ago in Fiction
There Goes the Neighbourhood
Great Grandpa Edward’s ninetieth birthday party was meant to be a celebration, but it quickly became a crime scene. This would have come as more of a shock to the neighbourhood if it had not been for the Hargroves’ reputation for drama. There were often screaming matches between the eldest siblings in the family, and more than once law enforcement had been called to a Hargrove barbeque. This would have been less frustrating for the neighbours if it were not for the fact that the family had weekly Sunday barbeques.
By Mackenzie Dickeson3 years ago in Fiction
The Birthday That Wouldn't Be Forgotten
Every year as a child Ida’s mother would make her famous chocolate cake for both of Ida’s sisters, but when her birthday came, all that she got was a rice cake with more of a chocolate scent than a flavor, and the same lecture as the year before.
By Stevi Vaughn3 years ago in Fiction
Recipe
It is Sally’s turn to teach her daughter Eli how to bake a chocolate cake. She flicks through the pages of the old recipe book that has been in her family for generations until she reaches a page with what looked like a clipping from an old magazine with a beautiful slice of cake, moist, brown, airy looking. Her grandmother’s notes in the margin of the notebook, delicate, carry within them the marks of a somewhat carefree past, one in which children knew what chocolate tastes like.
By Laureline Landry3 years ago in Fiction
Big Bones
He stormed out of the small apartment and slammed the door as hard as he could with his good arm. Putting all his weight forward the door crashed closed, scaring a cat somewhere and causing a dog to bark relentlessly from across the hall. It's small silhouette jumped up and down at the opaque glass front door. His arm in the sling tingled with some pain but he thought he deserved it. The whole thing had blown his mind and taken his breath. He gripped the thin wooden rail extra tightly in his hand as he descended the tight stair. He couldn't believe his ears when she said it. Whenever he had come home crying after being made fun of at school she had said it. She said it to him when family members would look with faces of skepticism and lean in to whisper to her. She had told him his whole life, "You're not fat darling, you're just husky." The last word would sometimes change. "Solid." "Strong." "Big boned." All the same stupid thing. He was not "solid", his body gave way with the slightest touch. He was not "strong", he could barely make it up the steps to his own apartment most days. And he definitely was not big boned! His bones were perfectly normal sized. He was a huge, cow-like, wobbling, sweaty, sausage fingered, blob of a man shaped like a melting ice-cream that couldn't see over his own breasts or tie his shoes! In short, he was fat. Had been fat his entire life. Fat, weak, fat, dumb, and fat. Not big boned.
By Alexander V. Cantrell3 years ago in Fiction
Chocolate, I Love You
Maggie bent over to peer into the refrigerator. The most perfect chocolate cake looked back at her, sitting on the middle shelf by itself. Thick white icing, dark chocolate shavings pressed against the sides and cherries nestled in swirls of whipped cream along the top. She hadn’t taken any short cuts and now her mouth watered at the mere sight of it. She had used her favourite recipe; the one where the chocolate is melted, and hot water is added to the batter. It made the cake extra moist. Maggie had made it for her sister’s birthday, but Jana was working late and would not be home for at least a couple more hours.
By Kelsey Reich3 years ago in Fiction
Secrets
Katie sobbed quietly, under her dark glasses. She could cry now, hidden behind the protection of her lenses but she knew she would have to stay strong for the wake. Her mother would need her. Trying to hold back the pang in her heart and the loss she felt so deep in her inner child, she took a deep breath.
By Cristina Rojas3 years ago in Fiction