Love
The Gentleman and Barista
In a building on a busy city corner, is a cozy little coffee shop. Every day, amongst all the hustle and bustle, came a man for coffee and cake. He would sit in the corner spot by the window and either read his books or doodle in a notebook. In fact, the only days he did not have coffee and more importantly his chocolate cake were the days that the shop was closed. To this he would order a piece of cake to go the day prior, ensuring he would not miss his fix.
Martin AhrensPublished 3 years ago in FictionA Terribly Cheesy Love Story
A little context: this piece was inspired by a Writer's Digest writing prompt I found a decade ago: The love of your life is getting married to someone else. In a last-ditch attempt to win the love of your life back, you bust into the wedding and profess your love mid-ceremony. Start your story with the line, "Don't say yes!"
Katie JohnsPublished 3 years ago in FictionReal Estate 101
I frowned as I stared at the old white house in front of me. It wasn’t as nice as the pictures online, a regular occurrence in my search for a home. I sighed, my sister’s words reverberating in my head. You’ll never find a house at this pace. Get an agent! I enjoyed the lack of pressure in searching for a home on my own, but my sister wasn’t the only one tired of me living in her basement. I needed a place of my own, and soon.
Ann C.K. NickellPublished 3 years ago in FictionThe Museum of Modern Past
The Museum of Modern Past By Stephen Donnelly There I was holding her hand in one of the largest museums I’ve ever seen. Feeling the pressure of her fingers interlaced with mine gave me a sense of comfort in the crowds. I turned to smile at her and she was already smiling at me. Her smile radiated brighter than her unblemished blonde hair that was always perfect when we were out in public.
Unabated LemonPublished 3 years ago in FictionThe Empty Shelves
John sat on his chair reading an old book. He was reading Jane Eyre. John was an older gentleman of 86 years. He loved reading in his study. In fact, it was one of his favorite places. He could sit down and read for hours on end without being interrupted. The room would have been very big if it was not for the large number of books that sat on the shelves covering almost every wall. John had been a scholar of sorts at some point. He was always looking for something new to learn. Half of the books in his library had not even been touched by him.
Aidan SchultzPublished 3 years ago in FictionThe Insurance Comes Out at One O'Clock
Karen sat sipping her morning coffee thankful that it was Saturday. It had been an awful week. Really, it had been an awful month. She had been physcially threatened at work on 3 occasions, each time by a disgruntled patient. It was par for the course for a psychiatric nurse, but it didn't make it any less unsettling. Her car was broken into the week before and to make matters worse, she lost her favourite ring.
Wildfire
The night air was cold, slithering around her and settling on her skin. A graceful fog flowed from her lips as she exhaled, her eyes searching around her through the trees for the path she knew so well. Her hair seemed to dance like flames in the breeze that swept around her, but the brisk wind did nothing to shake her resolve. She continued her trek upward stopping periodically to look up at the sky, the light of the moon her only source of comfort and security, preventing her from losing her footing in the otherwise dark night that covered the forest. The sounds of the forest at night glided toward her ears on the wind, a haunting melody for those unaccustomed to this atmosphere. Still the woman pushed on, a comfortable, well-worn cloak pulled tightly around her frame. Her grey eyes pierced the night, searching for her goal, more sure footed with each step she took closer to her goal. The sounds of a brook flowing joined the myriad of nighttime noises surrounding her and in its quiet babbling she found peace, a smile ghosting across her lips. The woman walked for what felt like hours until finally she reached her destination, a clearing at the top of the mountain where there were no trees growing to obstruct her view of the moon and stars. The night beckoned to her to join it, the darkness not so unsettling now that the moon seemed so close, and she was all too happy to accept her place here. She removed a pack from her shoulder tossing it gently to the ground, disturbing the peace of the night. Removing a warm, familiar blanket from the bag she unfurled it quickly letting it settle on the grass as it had done so many times before. The woman laid the bag beneath her head and took comfort in the moon shining above her, ethereal and serene. The cold could not touch her, and neither could the problems of her day-to-day life, beneath the moon in the peace of the night she was free. With that thought settled into her mind she closed her eyes and drifted off into peaceful and uninterrupted sleep, the moon standing guard never once wavering until the morning.
Savannah AichemPublished 3 years ago in FictionLove is Patient
My dearest Isaac, I cannot believe it is finally happening – how long we have waited for this joyous day! I awoke this morning and smoothed the quilt over my twin bed for the very last time. Looked around the room I have slept in all these long, lonely years with fresh eyes. It is all so dreary and sad. That narrow bed where I cried myself to sleep many a night, feverish and aching with love for you.
Angel WhelanPublished 3 years ago in FictionA Dish Best Served Sweet
“Don’t you look lovely Cecilia,” Martin’s voice was warm, gentle. It was the kind of voice that washes over you like a hot summer’s breeze setting your nerves ablaze like tiny embers stroked into a rush of burning flame.
A Woman Scorned
"You came...." "I did. I shouldn't have, but I did." "You have to know that if there was any other way...." "I know. Let's begin, shall we?"
Jessie WaddellPublished 3 years ago in FictionUnwind the Yarn
- Hushed murmurs announce my humble offering: a Marigold picked along the worn dirt trail. She tucks it behind her ear where it lingers, shining, the sun to her Nyxian demesne.
Elizabeth NoyesPublished 3 years ago in FictionI met her at the college fair
I met her at the college science fair. I had no idea who she was at the time. All I knew was that she looked familiar. I couldn’t really place her, though.
Katherine VelthuyzenPublished 3 years ago in Fiction