Young Adult
Why pears, not peaches?
Rosalyn and Micah sat beneath a pear tree in the grove, absorbing the delicate aroma of fresh fruit. The young woman leaned back against its smooth dark grey and brown bark, pulling her son into her lap. He giggled. “Tell me again how I arrived in a suspicious package wrapped in brown paper,” he said, snuggling into her belly.
By Barbara Steinhauser 5 years ago in Fiction
Harold Clarke is Happy.
The door creaked shut, as a young woman briskly left suite #402 of The Mapleshade condo complex. It was about 3:30 pm in Idaho Falls, Idaho, as a man in his late 60s finished bidding a pleasant farewell to his granddaughter, Allison. After several labored hours, she was able to finally show her grandfather how to check his email, which was unsurprisingly bursting messages. He always appreciated her visits, even when the bulk of their time was usually spent by Allison doing tech support. Still, he always tried to sneak in questions about her personal life while she was hard at work. She’s quite the secret keeper, so any news about a possible new boyfriend or an annoying coworker was a win in his book. When she had finished her complimentary coffee and was sure her grandfather could get back onto Gmail on his own, they said their goodbyes and he watched her drive away. That was the highlight of his week.
By Trevor MacDonald5 years ago in Fiction
If We Ever Get Separated, Meet Me By The Tree
She said to meet her by the pear tree if we were ever separated. So overprotective, mama, I had told her, which got me labeled as precocious. At age seven, I knew it all. At nine, even more. But in spite of my brazen disposition, our Saturday morning visits to the cozy town square lasted all the way to age 11, which, in the bigger picture of all the families in the world, is pretty impressive.
By Bonnie Joy Sludikoff5 years ago in Fiction
Vampire Haven
Chapter 1: It all begins with a girl Jake walked down the hallway of his school early that morning. He watched as leaves fell outside through the windows along the one wall. Even the large pear tree that his class planted and raised over the years was finished for the season. He liked autumn. It was a beautiful time of year.
By Lydia Booker5 years ago in Fiction
