family
Family Ties
Hurrying out of her sister’s house, thirty year antique hilda walked as quickly as her skinny legs should deliver her, across the garden and to her personal domestic next door. Inside the light of the early morning, she glanced approximately warily, but noticed not anything untoward or suspicious. She burst into the kitchen and located her husband bart digging into an omelette. “come short!” she ordered. She grabbed a rolling pin and left the manner she had entered. Startled, he were given up and followed his spouse out in their domestic. The 2 houses, identical in all respects, have been constructed with the aid of his father-in-law for hilda and her elder sister doreen. They stood next to each different, with no wall isolating the two. The 2 sisters have been simply as inseparable, and with doreen on vacation in kerala along with her husband jack, hilda had promised to hold an eye fixed on things in her absence.
By Hani Sarma5 years ago in Fiction
Candle in the Other Window
SOMEWHERE AROUND THE WORLD, a little boy was playing in the yard close to the front door in reach of his mother’s voice. “Ala! don’t go near the street … don’t leave the doorway! Your uncle will be coming soon!” Alert as any ten year old and equally inquisitive as any other boy, Ala checked his activity and stepped back a few paces closer to the door. He looked at his clothing and brushed briefly where the dirt he had collected near his cuff and sandals before returning to his passion! The scorpion, raked back toward the door with the stick in his hand, was going to lose this battle regardless of his mother’s intervention. He was not one to give up easily. As he stirred at the crustacean in the sandy soil, he kept watch on the hustle of those around him, in the plaza and beyond. It was a thing he had learned to do at a young age. Only months before there had been a man gutted in the square. Even from the doorway, he could see enough to see what was happening. An angry mob had strung him up on a scaffold, poked and prodded until one angry man swung a blade. With one slice through air flesh and red gore sprung forth and the man was gone. He was killed in an instant. The people in the square had run around, some screaming, others jeering; but he’d stood still… feet planted for lack of emotion and on command by his mother not to move. She came to him then, and brought him inside before he could think to digest his vision. Now he stood, obedient, but aloof; in their wait for Ali to arrive. It was the kind of playground Ala lived in. It was one where the playing doorway could bring instant death. Arrival of the uncle would be his mother’s way out. They were seeking the only out known to anyone for generations. They were going to leave. She hoped to convince him to take her… take them with him on his next trip out of the country. She would talk to him, as they had talked when they were younger. In their teen years they toyed with the ideal of being tied to each other as man and wife. It was not uncommon to marry a family member or friend of the family to keep relations and interests close to heart. They had been close in their preteen years and both born on the family farmlands and vineyard in Tyre where the men of the family farmed, harvested and worked to make money from products made by family. Now, in Beirut, things were different. They were still family, but dependent on a different source of existence. Reliant on a different stage of society.
By CarmenJimersonCross5 years ago in Fiction
The Strange Story Of June And Jennifer Gibbons, The ‘Silent Twins’ Who Only Spoke To Each Other
In April of 1963 at the military hospital in Aden, Yemen, a pair of twin girls were born. Their births were not unusual, nor were their dispositions as infants, but soon enough, their parents began to see that June and Jennifer Gibbons were not like other girls — and it wouldn’t be until one of the twins met her untimely death that any sense of normalcy would be reclaimed.
By Mohammad irtiza5 years ago in Fiction
The Road To Necks...
Part I: ~Historical Origins~ Velvet-Serenity Bloom trotted across the Fillmore-Fleming train station platform. Her neon green flats tapped loudly against the pavement, like an unrestrained club beat blaring from a sweat-saturated techno club.
By Tiffany Gordon5 years ago in Fiction
The Confidant
The storm had brought down several trees in the village, including one of the old oaks that Samantha Rose particularly loved. As she surveyed the bits of broken tile and twigs that littered her garden path, she found herself thinking of the tornado in the Wizard of Oz, and how unfair it was that in the real world weather didn’t sweep people away to colourful lands and adventure. After all, she could hardly be blamed if a tornado was responsible for changing her life, could she? She had risen early, and was savouring the time to herself before she had to face another day. Her reverie was interrupted by the sound of movement from upstairs, and mechanically, she turned to put the kettle on.
By Will Tudge5 years ago in Fiction
Let It Hurt
“It is because she is my twin sister that I can’t stand her jealousy. Every day, I watch as she attempts to imitate my schedule, my activities, my social circles, my everything. If I win an award in writing, she forces herself to get a similar achievement in drawing— her perception of not being overshadowed by her ‘genius sister’. The finger points at me. I am the one at fault. I didn’t tone down. I should have given her more opportunities to be praised. By teachers or by you and Dad.”
By Elaine Gao5 years ago in Fiction
The Telephone Call
Tom Schofield strove at his work high above the waves. Words forming lines before a swishing pencil tore and took them out, and the air filled with whispered profanities. By nightfall, four thousand words were written down; hard bitten words that came not from inspiration but persistence and the belief that he is a writer, and that this word alone implies professionalism. He cannot afford the luxury of sitting around waiting for inspiration to draft the books for him; it never had, it never would.
By harry hogg5 years ago in Fiction
