friendship
C.S Lewis got it right: friendship is born when one person says to another: "What! You too? I thought I was the only one!"
People in my life
Mikey Soders and Mikey Conway were two of the toughest teenagers that I have ever known. In a time that no longer exists, these two street fighters were a nightmare to those not skilled in the art. They were best friends but constantly fought one another. But when it was just the two of them against any amount of potential attackers, they had each other’s back and would not stop fighting until the opposition had fled. They were infamous for a short time for shaking down, well, anyone. They’d walk up to a corner where a bunch of people were hanging out there and they would tell them all to empty their pockets. Some would run, some would get beat up, some would try to go on the offensive only to learn that these Kensington dudes won’t quit.
By James S. Carr6 years ago in Humans
Love Letters from Heather
Dear Gail, You probably don’t remember the first time we met, but I do. I was only 21 and scared to death while I was getting a tour of the first school where I would have a permanent teaching contract. You were in the parking lot wearing a stylish one-piece pantsuit and hoop earrings, sporting a shoulder-length wavy do. You were confident and kind—and obviously the coolest kid of the group. You were mid-race while I was at the start line. Little did I know you would reappear in my life over and over, even if for brief moments throughout the next 23 years!
By Heather Down6 years ago in Humans
All My Affection, D.W.
It was Micah who discovered the trunk first. The first sun of summer hung high in the air and made the attic sweltering hot, and it was not yet 10 AM. The air-conditioner in their grandfather's house had been spotty at best, and it didn’t even reach the attic. The last thing either Micah or Thomas wanted to do was to stay up in the attic any longer than was necessary.
By Narcissa Deville6 years ago in Humans
The Path
Every shift started the same, get the bar ready for service....she knew the routine like the back of her hand. The anticipation of the hustle and bustle of service slowly building within her as the seconds ticked away. She glanced at the clock and realized that he would be arriving very soon. Every day for the last six months at exactly 5:05 pm he saddled up to the same bar stool. She would already be pouring his lager, knowing without asking what he would start with. As she set the beer in front of him with a familiar hello he pulled out the little black book that he wrote in every day. She often wondered what he was writing in that little black book and had been tempted many times to peek in it when he left it unguarded at the bar. She respected his privacy and their conversations too much to cross that line. She looked forward to their conversations each day, he was the calm in her otherwise chaotic day. The grounding conversation that she needed, it was more substancial than mindless bar chatter. He knew all about her life, her dreams, her struggles and the path she hoped her life would one day take.
By Talhia McNeil6 years ago in Humans
Sam
Had it not snowed that cold November day almost a decade ago, I never would have seen the abandoned puppy some heartless fool had left to God's mercy off Route 55 outside of Lebanon, Kentucky. Nothing is as soothing as whipping past endless miles of land covered with pine and poplar, sun-bleached grays and greens wearing a vast silken bed sheet – evidence of God’s promise worldly things would somehow turn out for the good.
By Banning Lary6 years ago in Humans
Steinbeck in the Forest
James and I are brothers. Well, not exactly, we didn’t know each other for a while, but we like to say that we are. Whenever someone asks “who is that boy you’re with?” I always answer with a smile, “my brother James”. After a long period of sticking our heads in the mud, we finally met at ages eleven and twelve. It was a cold day in the forest and I was out climbing trees.
By Luke Howard6 years ago in Humans
To Beg then to Give
She stepped sure footed onto the pavement, letting the crisp icy wind smack against her forehead. The bag wrinkled long lines as it was clutched by her blue turning fingers and pressed on her chest as each breath exhaled created a fluffy cloud of smoke that faded in the air. The weather shock is what motivated her to keep going, and it was motivation enough to not feel the cold bearing its way against her movement. The song in her heart beat a pep in her step and had her mind thinking of plans for her immediate future.
By Majesty Ayo6 years ago in Humans
Sonatas for Two Violins
It’s snowing pretty heavily now and me and Ant are trudging through Finsbury Park while I clutch a plastic bag full of old vinyl to my chest. We walk past the pond where ducks and swans glide about in the icy water, and he gives me a menacing glance.
By TJ Corless6 years ago in Humans
A Little Help, A Lot of Love
I’m standing in the dark corridor, hesitating, swaying slightly on the spot as I think. There’s a soft, muffled bleep repeating in the distance and the hum of a floor sweeper outside. It’s 2am. The light rain tapping against the window at the end of the corridor blurs the cityscape into refracted fragments of orange, yellow, green, and red. A burst of blue signals the arrival of yet another ambulance in the docking bay below.
By Laura Ganis6 years ago in Humans
The Sun, The Boy, and His Shadow
There once was a boy called Jack who loved the sun. For on the days that the sun shone, Jack could find his shadow and chase it. When the sun was shining, Jack and his shadow spent the day laughing, and talking, and chasing, and laying the grass soaking up the heat. At the same time, his father and brothers labored in the field, sweating and praying for rain.
By Claire Mackey6 years ago in Humans
