Love
Barn me not!
I don’t like my folks. That’s why I’ve left our ranch as soon as I could. All those animals and routine tasks weren’t meant for me. I wanted to see the world from every angle and not just one horizon. And that’s why I’ve tried to stay far away as long as possible. It took me ten years to come back. I am a man of my word; I would help them if they needed. But my parents never asked me for help and, when I knew that they were in need, it was too late. My father was sick, my mother is weary, and the ranch is poorly cared for. I never said that I wouldn’t help them. I am actually pretty chocked that all this happened.
Sofia DuartePublished 3 years ago in FictionDivine Love
Boom! Boom! Boom! The onomatopoeic sound filled the room, Beckha’s eyes opening slightly whilst her ears adjusted to the echoic noise as she woke. She inhaled deeply, she could smell the mix of lavender and frankincense, that she often had diffusing throughout her bedroom. The gentle smell satisfying Beckha’s nostrils as she drifted into the sensuality of life. Her white silk sheets softly covering her naked body, she felt their love as she playfully rolled from side to side. She giggled and enjoyed the sensual caressing of their silky lustre across her buttocks, she rolled to play a little more, as her smooth skin and the silk collide in sensual wonder. Beckha wondered if that was what spiders felt like with their butts full of silk. Is that what they did when they ran their little legs together as the spun their webs. She stopped mid roll to gaze upon her chairs. As antiques go, the two green velvet chairs each side of the bay window were her favourite pieces. They were the only thing Beckha stayed attached to; everything and everyone else, long gone. She traced each leg with her eyes, caressing the carved wood like a lover in waiting, she knew how they felt, and they always held her beautifully. Beckha pretended sometimes that she was the craftsman, creating such splendour with her decorous hands; how she loved those chairs. Her morning ritual: think of all the beauty she has seen and fill her existence with it, she was always happy, happy all the time, unless of course, if she wasn’t.
Rebecca ClarksonPublished 3 years ago in FictionThe Barn
It's 1953, and a dozen teenage kids ranging in age from 13 to 17 are sitting inside the old, rust-red, barn. The barn is lined with five California pepper trees that cover the southside of the roof. It is located on a cotton farm in Bakersfield, California.
Rick Henry ChristopherPublished 3 years ago in FictionPerchance to Dream
I stood arm in arm with my father beside the willow tree as the breeze picked up and my heart gently sunk. With the sunset pristine, he looked at me with a shimmering glint in his eyes. "I love you, Susan," he said, "I'm so very proud of you, sweetheart." I looked at him for a moment and smiled, then looked away towards the trail of lights that lay before us. Around the corner, the pathway illuminated far greater than that of any starry night, and my love for this moment became undoubtedly absolute. Still, arm in arm, my father and I walked along the sacred path and witnessed the utmost beguiling scene of thought and affection. Fireworks erupting across the lake, violinists performing in such an exquisite style, the townspeople gathered with nothing but smiles, and the cliche but appropriate; white doves emerging as we went onward. It was magnificent, even more so than the sun flaring behind us as it sunk beneath the horizon. I proceeded to hold my father close as we neared the end of our lively course. My dress was still immaculate and glistened as though all of the light that we traversed absorbed into it. I felt majestic, glorious to say the least, and as we approached the doors of the old barn I had once feared, I was now facing them with reverence and a willingness to persist.
Nathan FisherPublished 3 years ago in Fiction𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝
My love for her is a blessing, my queen I’m glad I got to fall in love with her. Artemis Naijaé Navarro, has been the mecca of my heart since the day I met her, Charlotte, North Carolina when I was with my father doing gardening work at her house. She is a knockout, were only in middle school when I met her, from there she seemingly had feelings for me, she would often come to my house asking my mother for me. Naijaé is just a work of art, rich dark skin, her luscious plump lips, grey eyes, her intellect & strength reminded me of a true Nigerian princess, her family are from Nigerian & Dominican descent. I just admired her for so long, I would often paint portraits of her whenever I had the free time to, I would often have a heavy load of thing to do for school, my parents, and at Home Depot stacking inventory or running the cash register. I gave her one of my paintings of her in November of 2016, we went to this oak tree where there was a patch of marigold flowers around it in the playground in our neighborhood, I carved our names within the tree with my pocketknife I had. Once she saw the painting, she almost cried just looking at it, I thought I upset her in that moment, until she excitedly kissed me without hesitation, I intensely kissed her right back as the warmth of the sun radiating upon us glowing. I had so much joy that day, the energy was just positive, the emotions were all over the place, I saw what life was worth she is my moon, and I am her sun, that’s what the universe consist of the planets that are in our space. I just love rambling on where I could go with her, since then been together for three years, I met her entire family as well did mine got to meet Naijaé. Before Covid-19 hit the scene we went to Egypt for the summer, visited the pyramids, it was everything imaginable when we traveled, that night in our hotel room we could let each other go. Everybody thinks in life such as these moments the world is yours, or you're on top of the world, except I don’t I never wanted this world, I don’t even want to give this world to her, the world doesn’t deserve her because I know how it can be, I rather protect her from it than be sucked into it. Our souls intertwined that night, the tenderness of each other I honestly just wanted to please her, it didn’t matter, I really cared for her.
Just One Night
“Just one night. Just one night…” Jack muttered to himself. He was sitting on a bail of hay and staring into the feedbag he was given with ten dollars in crumpled one dollar bills. Ninety dollars more would follow if he could make it just one night in the old barn. Strips of light from the setting sun pierced the voids between the barn’s wooden slats. Dust filled sunbeams gripped the ground and crept up the wall onto Jack’s black overcoat. Looking down, the pattern reminded him of the jail cell he reluctantly called home for seven and a half years. The thought of his captivity turned his stomach. Reminders of his crime and his time plagued Jack at all hours of the day, but especially at sunset. Perhaps it was the impending darkness taking over the light of the day that set him on edge. The jail cell projection on his chest seemed to mock his efforts to hold fast to the newfound light in his life… his love. His Elanor. She carried his heart and stoked his yearning to… as Judge Hanes put it, “turn his life around, b’fore it was too late.”
Ryan NorthPublished 3 years ago in FictionDonovan's Barn
Trenton and Rachel had moved away from Taftsville 15 years earlier. They had both attended Taftsville High School and after their senior year had moved to the city to attend college. They dated throughout their college years; on one warm spring night Trenton proposed and Rachel eagerly accepted. Though they had married young, they had made a good life for themselves and their two children, twin daughters who were now 12 years old.
Julie BuchyPublished 3 years ago in FictionI Take You
“Oh, Charlotte, it’s beautiful!” mother exclaimed, taking out a now dissolved tissue out of her pocket again. The decorations, chairs, and everything was finally all set. Beyond excited and proud that it at the family farm. Eh, you say, farm, old barn wood, livestock smell really? Quite the opposite really. Chalk it up to family pride. It was just perfect for an outdoorsy wedding that gave off just the right bohemian vibes. For me, a relaxing environment to celebrate our love. It was everything I had imagined and wanted. Today was the day, our wedding day. And just like that, my entire life would change….and of course Will’s too.
I Don't Have Time For Cake!
I always hated weekends. Loathed them. Absolutely couldn't stand them. The fact is, as a busy person, I don't have time for weekends. The way everything winds down and everyone just stops doing anything productive because "somebody" in their so - called infinite wisdom figured we all needed a couple of days off, oh puuulll-eeeze!
Fading Flowers
She went up to the counter to sign in for the day. Each visitor must sign in and out, as that was one of the safety measures the home had in place. She adjusted her purse and placed the wreath she had brought on the counter so she could reach for the pen and leave her John Hancock.
Kelly HornePublished 3 years ago in FictionLeaving
I was feeling blue. I decided to take a walk. It was raining, but it was only a light drizzle, and I walked past all the shops in downtown and past the river. I went past the famous Spanish bar and peered inside, hearing the faint sound of boisterous laughter and I saw couples happily sitting together nursing their homemade spun concoctions and cocktails. They famously always had Matador bull fights on all the Flat screens they had in the bar. Old fights, new fights. Fights from years ago.
Melissa IngoldsbyPublished 3 years ago in FictionLove Will Last Forever
The barn had changed since she had last seen it. She could remember when it’d been freshly painted red, the paint had gleamed in the sun for days. Her father had joked that you could always tell who snuck out of the dance hall those days since they would always come back with paint on their clothes. Now, even the wood was faded. Had it really been so many years? Even though it had seemed like a blink of an eye, her aching bones reminded her it had been many long years since her days dancing in the barn.
Keely HuberPublished 3 years ago in Fiction