family
Different Kinds of Life Part 2
It had been a month since Kimberly filed for divorce from Will, she and her children Charlotte, Samuel, and Anna spent several days in hotel after hotel. One night later, she then takes the kids and herself to the one person she least expect to go to: her mother, Katherine. They had not spoken to each other in the last couple of years. Briefly staying in the house was going to back bring type of memories for her, which she had lived in from the ages of twelve to eighteen. For those six years, she felt like she was second best to her mother when it came to her older sister Maria. Sitting in her old bedroom for the first time since she had moved, Kimberly realized that not much had changed and felt very upset about her situation. Because her room does not enough space and Maria's old room is a little more larger, Charlotte and Anna would be in Maria's room. Samuel would be in the guest room which is next to her grandmother's room and across from the bathroom. Within the years since she had left, the blue painted walls of Kimberly's room was fading including the spot where she had her nickname "Kimmy" painted in red. Even there were cobwebs in the corner and small cracks in the wall. She cleaned most of the room and then she turned around, seeing a picture of Maria smiling during her fourth grade spelling bee and Kimberly by her side both smiling.
By Forest Green4 years ago in Fiction
A Girl's Passion For Baking
There is a girl who loves baking cake. It doesn't matter if she's not the best baker in town or if it takes her forever to get it right. She always puts on a smile and does what she needs to do. Her parents love that about her, they're proud of their child. But some things make them wonder just how much effort she has put into this hobby because it’s obvious that she hasn’t been eating very well.
By Gloria Michael 4 years ago in Fiction
The day of loving each other
Hi, it turned out to be a hometown, or alumni of the university, I actually do not know. After a decent handshake and exchange of cell phone numbers, they began to exchange pleasantries. It is also three or four minutes, but the two people have nothing more to say, then separate again. Mostly, she was uncomfortable. She has picked herself up well today, plain and proper, but in the end she is not comfortable. This kind of reception is really too extravagant, too extravagant, so that she is always like a dream. In fact, she is a Cinderella, dabbling in the food to come. Friends are right, dilly-dallying is false, dilly-dallying opportunity is true, dilly-dallying, meet a bole, or catch a big money, are possible. This year is the lack of opportunity is not it. Friends have long said, like "our age" girls, the most important thing is actually two things: first, throw your head; second, show up - the opportunity is not installed with GPS long-range missiles, which can be aimed at your sky, don't get yourself Cost - Bin Laden.
By sissytisha4 years ago in Fiction
WHAT IF I KNEW MY DAD?
I never knew my dad, but if I had this would be my story: Dad was one of those rolling stones. He left my mother for another woman when I was two years old. My grandmother took us into her home to live. If not for her, we would have been living on the street and starving. Often, over the next twelve years, my father would unexpectedly show up at my grandmother’s door while she was at work. My mother, Lilly, would let me sit and visit with Dad on the front porch, but he must be gone before Grandmother returned, because she hated the tall handsome Sam. He had a smile that would captivate any woman’s heart and her money for whiskey and gambling. When she had nothing more to give, Sam would move on to the next gullible woman, who believed that she was his one and only love. My mother was one of those women.
By Frankie Berry Wise4 years ago in Fiction
The note under the wall
Some things that didn't seem too important at the time can be rooted in the memory for a long time. They have always been there to sleep peacefully, occasionally awake, open eyes to see you busy (promotion or disappear) and sleep again, many years they are so light as if not in. A thousand times the opportunity to miss, and finally see them again one day, see the time to many so-called life events to wear away, and they are firmly fixed there, heavy with the weight of the incomparable. For example, a photo of the old days, when shot without thinking, casually put where, for many years do not even remember it, but suddenly one day when sorting out the old things came across it, brushed off the dust, but will feel that it is your origin is also your escape; and many solemnly left a picture, but has forgotten where and for what.
By sissytisha4 years ago in Fiction
Laughter is sometimes the best medicine for pain
Michel Darwin, age 36 born in the United kingdom and happily married to you my darling with two sons expecting another child preferably another boy but I know you don't want that. I am currently on the rear end of this never ending war. The admiral required us soldiers to keep records of our activities before each activity but in actuality these very books are no different from dying books and the day one of us stops writing well I guess you should know the rest. I hope I will be back to carry our new son. I mean daughter.
By Daniel Seyi4 years ago in Fiction
The naughty grandma
Grandma has a little habitual action of sticking her tongue out. Usually this action will appear after doing something wrong. When she does something wrong, she usually hides it, such as breaking a jar of sugar, she quietly sweeps up the pieces, handfuls of leftover sugar, and replaces it with an identical jar and leaves it as it is. Until you ask her: why is the sugar suddenly missing half a jar? She will spit out her tongue, smiling and confess.
By BlossomParker4 years ago in Fiction
The neighbors and the weeds
I have two neighbors who have moved away one after another over the past few years. Between spring and autumn, there is much less cheerfulness. After a rain in the summer, the grass in front of their houses grew wildly, and only then did I remember that it had been a long time since they moved away. However, those stories inside and outside the house are like the couplets on the porch, the color recedes, but does not flake off and disappear ......
By BlossomParker4 years ago in Fiction
