Love
My Dad George Hurst
I got my story in a magazine; it was about my dad, George Hurst. He was the best dad in the world. He loved his family and raised his children while my mum was always ill with her nerves. He cooked, cleaned, and worked down the coal mine. My dad was like me: always happy and helping others, but usually taken for granted, too.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 7 months ago in Fiction
FUZZY BEAR
*Fuzzy Bear: A Hug You Can Trust* In a cozy little forest surrounded by tall trees, colorful flowers, and chirping birds, lived a teddy bear named *Fuzzy*. Fuzzy wasn’t like other bears—he wasn’t wild or loud. In fact, he wasn’t even real. He was a soft, stuffed bear with button eyes, stitched paws, and golden brown fur that was always warm, no matter how cold the night was. Fuzzy belonged to a little girl named *Mila*, who lived in a small cottage at the edge of the forest with her grandmother. Mila’s parents had passed away when she was very young, and Fuzzy Bear had been her gift from her mother—a last memory stitched with love and care. Since then, Fuzzy had become more than a toy. He was her best friend, her secret keeper, and her source of comfort. Every night, Fuzzy sat beside Mila on her little bed by the window. She would hug him tight, whisper her dreams, her fears, and her stories to him. Though Fuzzy never spoke, his hugs always made her feel better. But what Mila didn’t know was that *Fuzzy Bear was magical*.
By Ibrahim Shah 7 months ago in Fiction
Hey, Doll
"Hey Doll, open your eyes.” Barnaby’s house was not new to Marion, but it was still a nice gesture that he would carry her over the threshold. She could see it now, for the first time, as their home. He set her gently down on the floor and, locked in a tight embrace, they kissed. Before long they had moved to the bedroom to consummate the marriage.
By Amos Glade7 months ago in Fiction
Roses and Raven Feathers
With labored breaths — lumbering along the path of fallen leaves — he pushed on. After many long days of wandering, hunger and loneliness were finally taking their toll. Benny Jetso hadn’t seen one sign of what been looking for, but that wasn’t going to stop him searching.
By Gabriel B. Shames7 months ago in Fiction
Dust, Rust, & the Sifting Sand Blues
Dust, Rust, & the Sifting Sand Blues "It’s not about losing; it’s about the sovereign act of starting again." This visual album is a 26-year "blues scheme" finally brought to life. I first built these dreams in a sandbox back in 2000, but it took two decades of sifting through the dust of the river and the rust of the city to truly hear the melody.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 7 months ago in Fiction
When Love Feels Right, Why Worry Why? . Runner-Up in Rituals of Affection Challenge.
I always gather all the components well in advance of Valentines Day. Last Spring, for the three-day Memorial Day weekend, I surprised Cleo with a trip to Chicago. I rented a room with a hot tub at the Park Hyatt. We did all her favorite things-- the museums, a play at the Cadillac Palace Theatre, dinner and drinks at Sweetwater Tavern & Grille.
By Lightning Bolt ⚡7 months ago in Fiction
Asklipiou Recipes. Winner in Rituals of Affection Challenge.
Nicola and I have this strange habit, perhaps it's better to call it a hobby. Because a 'hobby' is fun and a habit is something usually not fun, or like smoking, only a little bit fun and with a larger downside.
By Scott Christenson🌴7 months ago in Fiction
