Love
My Pink Shoes
As heavy rain fell, turning the street into a muddy mess, I played outdoors with the other kids. I was 7 years old and wearing my new expensive fancy open shoes and was excited to show them off. However, as I rushed, my foot slipped in the rainy water, and the surging current carried away my shoe.
By Ameer Bibi2 years ago in Fiction
A Kind Exchange
Jacob, holding a jacket, was waiting in line before the cash register. He was homeless and a woman gave him $100 for buying a jacket in cold weather. A woman was setting feeders, diapers, and baby milk tins on the counter. It came to about 170 dollars in total. After going through her bag, the woman hardly found seventy dollars. Reluctantly, she returned one tin of milk but the bill was still $140. Jacob made her a hundred-dollar offer. She accepted the money at his insistence.
By Ainy Abraham2 years ago in Fiction
The Foster Parents. Content Warning.
Eddie was sat on his own, waiting. He didn't like living here. He didn't want to go back where he came from either. When he watched TV, he saw families and they were always really smiley, eating tasty food and their houses looked nice. It was a fantasy world. He dreamed of being part of that some day. He'd never known a life like that.
By Rachel Deeming2 years ago in Fiction
Surrounded by Love. Content Warning.
It had been weeks now since they had split and Milly was feeling the pain of it still. She had felt like this was it: The One. She had allowed her imagination to drift into shared space, weddings, family dinners. She had finally thought that she was part of a collective: Milly and Mark. The alliteration even had a nice feel, like they belonged together.
By Rachel Deeming2 years ago in Fiction
The Mother Buffer
"Mum, can I stay in town after school? Me and my mates are going to play football on the field for a bit." Jo thought about this. They were going away the next day which meant that she had packing to do and she really ought to make sure that all of the washing was done. Dinner, of course, needed to be cooked and then the washing up and the loading of the dishwasher. They had run out of milk so she had get that. She could really do with going home and getting on with things. She would leave work for school pick up and then it wouldn't be worth her going home because by the time she'd got home, she'd need to leave again. She'd be best to just hang around town and kill some time. Time that she didn't have. She supposed at least she would be able to get the milk from the supermarket on the main street. If she remembered. It might be nice to have a moment to herself although as she was thinking it, she knew that she would rather have that moment after everything that needed to be done was done. It would just be delaying the inevitable hurried rushing that awaited her.
By Rachel Deeming2 years ago in Fiction
A Beautiful Night
The rain drops hit the cold stained glass of the window, causing the fragile pane to reverberate in its place. She wrapped her delicate and cold hand around the base of the wax candle, wincing as her feet touched the frozen floor. Shadows seemed to dance as if enticing her to play with them.
By Isabella Rose2 years ago in Fiction
Forest Dance
Jackson used to collect wood from the forest to make furniture. That’s why he had to find fine and solid wood for this purpose. Oak, teak, and cedar trees were present in different parts of the jungle and were considered best for furniture making. He had to go deep inside the forest to get good quality wood. That forest was deep and dense, full of animals like bears.
By Ainy Abraham2 years ago in Fiction
Echoes of the Baltimore Bridge
In the heart of Baltimore, where the city pulses with life, there stands a bridge. It's not just any bridge; it's a silent witness to the ebbs and flows of human emotions, carrying the weight of countless stories within its iron veins. This bridge, spanning the Patapsco River, has seen laughter and tears, love and heartbreak, hope and despair. But amongst the myriad tales it holds, there is one that echoes with a poignant resonance.
By Pavan Kumar2 years ago in Fiction
