family

Medicine of the Broken Owl
Hearing the slow burn and crackle of his pipe was familiar and strangely comforting. Dark cherry and oak undertones always seemed to be lingering on his clothes, mixed with the scent of long days and fresh air. My Pa was sturdy like an oak tree and stubborn like a mule. I could only say that because these traits were mine too.
By Green Yoga Project5 years ago in Fiction
A Picturesque Escape
Shirley was desperate. Her husband Mark had become unbearable, even violent. Her two young autistic twin sons, Ben and Aiden, were regressing. Shirley tried to keep her family together despite Mark's drinking and frequent womanizing. Shirley had no choice. She didn't have her own source of income. Sure, they always struggled financially, but she wasn't about to make her financial situation worse by leaving Mark. She was forced to narrow her social circle to include virtually no one. Mark had intentionally forced her into seclusion in a small suburb of Utah.
By Margo5 years ago in Fiction
Grandfather Tahoma's Rebirth
“Look! Right there!” my grandfather exclaimed, pointing at a predatory bird soaring effortlessly high above. “Tell me what it is.”
By Julie Lacksonen5 years ago in Fiction
Chasing Ghosts
Collin's Ranch, Texas 3:01 AM The old family cemetery shook and the bones of generations past rattled in their graves. With a charnel yawn, the ground split open, revealing row after row of shifting, fresh dirt stairs that descended into the bowels of the Earth. The wails of the dead eeked out, staining the realm of the living invisibly, joined by a pleasant whistling melody and the occasional, piercing cry of an owl.
By James Golden5 years ago in Fiction
The End of the World
The predator stays low in the long and yellowed grass, buffalo hide weighing on his back. He watches the herd of lazy lumbering beasts ahead, stocky and graceless, belying their true speed and stamina. Their heavy hooves stamp the ground with crushing strength, drooping eyes scanning the grassy plains beneath long-horned protrusions; one-to-one, they would make quick work of him.
By L. O'Shea5 years ago in Fiction
Wisdom And Fear of Death
The years of distance have changed the way I see my past. I can remember being scared; being young, alone, responsible for my little girl, angry, and rejected by my society. I recall the panic attacks, the prayers, the hopes, the sleepless nights, but it’s like watching a movie or seeing someone else go through it. They say ‘time heals all’, it’s not so much that it heals as it makes us a stranger to ourselves. We become our own audience wondering how and why is that person going through so much pain, and then we realize that we are the person. Call it evolution, some kind of inevitable change, call it growth, or call it time, the fact is, everything really does pass. Well, not everything. The mind has a strange way of retaining the good memories while it lets the bad ones fade away as if they were a lie or a dream. I wish I knew this when I was young.
By Meliha Avdic5 years ago in Fiction
We Finally See
"Come on guys. Let's get this over with already. I don't want to be in here with you guys longer than I have to." huffed Cyrus on his way to the barn.
By Samirra Elsaieh5 years ago in Fiction
The Disappearance of Johnny Silas
Johnny Silas never intended to just settle down and start living somewhere. Aside from his credibility as being king of the unknown underground being destroyed, the idea of staying in one place for more than a month seemed like a prison sentence. On the other hand, having someone just give you a house was a deal only a fool would reject; or perhaps by a punk with an even greater tenacity and carefree spirit than Johnny had --which was an idea that always haunted him. The house was given to him by Marcus VanVelkenberg III, due to a complicated and fascinating chain of events. Marcus lived in St. Louis, MI, which was the last place Johnny would have to hitch hike, train hop and otherwise just walk fast from before he could claim the property in question.
By Po Ivey5 years ago in Fiction
All For Family
Chill breeze whispered through the leaves. A quiet rustle that was comforting to Sar. Still as she could be, she watched. Her son had recorded her grandbaby’s graduation ceremony. Sar hadn’t been able to attend, she was able to watch it now though and that was good enough.
By KC5 years ago in Fiction
Abandoned Places
To walk alone through an abandoned place is to embrace desolation. To open our chest to a sort of surreal sadness we normally try to shut out and confront something that lies in the uncomfortable space between the familiar and the unknown.
By Kailey Roberts5 years ago in Fiction
Alight
“After the mother lays the egg, the father balances it on top of his feet for a full two months, using a pouch on his lower belly to keep it warm. They can’t even leave the egg to eat. In the meantime, the mother goes off to hunt for fish, sometimes traveling up to 50 miles away.”
By Aleta Davis5 years ago in Fiction
Witchbird
Neither of them had meant it to go on this long. This wintery distance between them, like a lonely wind searching the hollow between two immovable ice sheets.
By Jesse Warewaa5 years ago in Fiction