Most recently published stories in Humans.
The Back Door
If I were to write a story, I would write about the safé on the corner of Lupus and Flitcroft Street. It probably has an actual name but I don’t know what it is. I don’t like it all that much. Its walls are of a sickly lime green colour and the chairs are hard, modern and white. I also don’t drink coffee, but if I did, I certainly wouldn’t drink it there. They always buy the cheapest brand and then the whole café stinks like someone died in there. But no one really cares. I usually drink orange juice. The oranges are good; they get them from a nearby market, so it’s not some cheap stuff out of a box.
Why Staying Single Might Be Good for You
I have always been the single friend. The character that you see in movies and television shows, the girl who can never find a boyfriend, never seems to have her act together, often portrayed as the partier, the drinker, the girl who is always coming home in the morning from a one night stand because she can’t get any real dates. Except I’m the single friend who likes it and chooses it.
Not Knowing Who I Am
I first fell in love with my friend, we'll call her Leah, when I was in the seventh grade. How did I know I was in love with her, you ask? Well, I couldn't tell you, 'cause I just knew something was different when I was around her. The only person who knew I liked her was my other friend, we'll call her Haley, who was my confidant. I mustered up the courage to tell Leah that I liked her one day. Her response? Pure shock with a little bit of disgust mixed in. She never talked to me after that, but I knew something was different about me after I realized I was in love with her. So, I did what any thirteen-year-old did and told my mom I thought I was bisexual. Her response? "It's probably just a phase, Stacy." I didn't know any other way to respond to that, so I just agreed with her and pushed the idea of being bi into the back of my mind, slowly forgetting about it. With the idea of being not straight as a phase, I strictly dated guys throughout the rest of middle school and my freshman year of high school, but still struggled with my sexuality because some girls still piqued my interest.
Life from the Outside
Monotonous life, exciting life, addictive life. I live in the present but with the future so close in the horizon. The past is just a mere memory that increasingly weakens and fades. I have already lost innumerable memories that are being replaced by others every day. I look at you and see a sudden reflection of me, an attraction, a vision, a taste, a thought, a simple smile ... a vague memory. Because I ask, because I say, because I continue in this infinite but nevertheless pleasurable pain and agony that so often revolts me but I also feel love.
There is no doubt that people come and go. Very few of the people we meet we call our friends. But how well do we know them?
Thoughtful Wedding Gifts that Couples Will Actually Use
In a couple of months, I will be getting married to the man I love — and that means I'm going to have to get a wedding registry started. Speaking as someone about to jump the broom, I can tell you that the only gifts I'd want to get are thoughtful wedding gifts that show that the guests care.
The Last Line
She laid in the bed wide awake. She could hear him lightly snoring and wondered how he could sleep so peacefully. She tossed and turned every night with the same thoughts haunting her brain. Even the music she blasted through her ear buds couldn't block out the thoughts. She glanced at the clock, 2:07 AM. She had to be up in less than four hours. She flipped on her side and looked at him. She studied his peaceful face. His stubble was just starting to grow in. His chest would slowly move up and down with every breath he took. She wanted to cry. She didn’t want to hurt him anymore.
Dear Someone I Thought Was Special
So it’s been 6 weeks I believe and every day from word go, I have been afraid. When we first started talking, I was relaxed and happy that I found someone I can have a giggle with, talk to and could actually see myself being with for a long time. I told you this, I opened up and you did to. Constantly texting, I was even texting you while I was "on dates" with other guys. To be honest, I wasn’t interested in them, I wanted you. When I became yours after two weeks of constant texting and phone calls, you asked me to be yours on our first date. There was something so special and real between us. Since then it feels like we haven’t been together 6 weeks but a year or two from the way you have started to behave.
Everyone on this god forsaken planet was given a voice. Some can’t figure out how to use it, for the life of them. Others don’t know when to stop using it, and listen. I suppose I follow under both categories, or directly in the middle. At least that’s where I think I would be placed. Growing up I was the youngest of four children, there was enough talking going around that anything I said was quickly disregarded or ignored and yet they wonder why I’m so “introverted.” I have a lot to say, I do. A lot goes through my mind, but more so complex thoughts and deeper conversations than just daily chit chat topics.
Peeps and Onions
When I left the hospital after my husband's death, I knew I walked away without part of my soul. Marriage vows say, "as long as we both shall live," or the equivalent. I will tell you, those words weren't a reflection of my heart that cold, dark morning. Ray was gone, and a serious portion of me was gone with him. The misty drizzle didn't help, and our small town was as quiet as a tomb. I was already wondering why I was still there, breathing, knowing my existence was pointless without him.
What I Need Them to Say
I've thought a lot about what I want people to say to me. I know I want them to say just the right thing, but I wouldn't know if they did. And I
I Still Think About You
I hate getting close to people. I mean, at the moment it seems right. The feeling you get when you're around a person who brings out the best in you, and who is equally attached to you as you are to them has got to be one of the best feelings in the world. And when it ends, especially without a clear explanation and knowing a replacement is there, it hurts like you wouldn't believe — it still hurts. I guess it makes sense then that my hands are shaking and the tears are trying to escape my eyes as we speak.