family
Mystery Dad
Sarah was mostly brought up by her Mother. She visited her Dad every summer . Summer 2000 Sarah turn 12 years old. Sarah’s Aunt Leola picked her up from the airport, as usual . “How is Chicago this days?” Auntie Leola asked . “ Same Old things, nothing new, still the Windy City.” Sarah answered in one breath . “ You staying with me this summer.” Aunt Leola told Sarah. “ Pops never let me stay at his house, in fact I never been to Pops’ house. Why is that, Auntie Leola?” Sarah asked. ”You have to ask him that.” Sarah aunt responded.
By Mariann Carroll4 years ago in Fiction
Instigating
Paul started to get scared. He couldn't handle this level of incentive. And it was a high level of pleasure and pain at the same time. "I need to find a job," he thought. "Something to pass the time, and financial stability for my family". He was looking for the magic mushrooms in his life. They were around here somewhere.
By Alex Jennett4 years ago in Fiction
The Bluff
It was my idea to have a picnic on the edge of the bluff overlooking the ocean on Gabriola Island. I had a friend who had a small resort on the island that was closed down for renovations. I thought it was the perfect place to have picnic lunch with Tom. It was supposed to be a romantic time. And it was. I packed my favourite wine (a nice Shiraz from Australia), pesto chicken paninis, prosciutto and cheese salad, strawberries dipped in chocolate and a banana. Because I eat about three bananas a day. I can't get enough of them. Tom was forever teasing me about my strange obsession with the yellow fruit.
By Karalena Walsh4 years ago in Fiction
Painted Memories
It's been a long time. I stare at the decrepit house; shingles gone and more than one window screen either torn or missing all together. The brown foliage begs for water. I'm guessing Mr. Fothertan never bothered to turn on his sprinkler system.
By Jennifer Ogden4 years ago in Fiction
Butterflies In The Sky
The fire sparked in her eyes as the words slipped from my mouth. "But, I don't want to do that." I tried to be quick in my escape but her reflexes were much quicker than mine. She gripped the back of my shirt and jerked so hard it knocked the wind out of me. The collar dug into my throat and started to burn.
By Michaela Gallien4 years ago in Fiction
Finding a Tune
A flood of memories came rushing to me as I walked through my grandparents’ old house. I remembered the aroma of grandma’s homemade cookies wafting from the kitchen. I remember sitting on the porch with fresh-squeezed lemonade after swimming in the river. I remembered grandpa educating me about automobile engines. He had a wealth of knowledge, and he was willing to share. He would yell from under the car, “Tim, hand me the ¾ inch socket wrench.” I learned about tools quickly and enjoyed being his helper.
By Julie Lacksonen4 years ago in Fiction
