literature
Whether written centuries ago or just last year, literary couples show that love is timeless.
Finding Purpose
Lily let out a frustrated sigh as she ended the phone call. She took note of the ragged, peeling edges of her fingernails, destroyed by her current stress level. Scott Frances, her husband’s attorney, had smugly issued the proposition that would determine her fate. To remain happily, albeit aggravatingly wed, Lily had 48 hours and $20,000 to find her purpose.
Hayley MarksPublished 3 years ago in HumansSave us.
“It has to be a curse, nothing good ever happens to me,’’ I muttered to my best friend, who was standing next to me, giggling and swinging around the pole next to the bus station in utmost joy.
Shallom KimanziPublished 3 years ago in HumansPaper Confidant
It only took a few minutes, running across the street to the gas station, but in that time the sun had disappeared, and the rain had begun to pour. I scurried out of the store and across the parking lot, bag of snacks in hand, only to be stopped at the cross walk by a slew of drivers speeding by, undeterred by impeded visibility.
Albert’s Resolution
Albert plopped down on a park bench to rest for just a moment. He had just finished one lap around the park jogging path and was exhausted. His new year’s resolution in full force; however, he was already having doubts. Albert gazed over his right shoulder to survey his surroundings and as his head periscoped back towards the path he was to endure; I don’t want to, I really don’t want to, he thought, he caught a glimpse of It, from his periphery vision. It was just sitting there, on the other side of the bench, dusty, and slightly stained in the corners where the original luster of the cover material had been worn away from use. A notebook. A black note book, just the right size to fit snuggly between curled fingers and the palm of its owner. Albert was delightfully distracted from his New Years desolation, err, resolution.
Loren WilsonPublished 3 years ago in HumansThe Trade
Two severed rabbit heads were mounted above the door frame of the Crystal Shelter, facing opposite directions of each other viewing the left and right flank of the entrance. The head on the right, which was facing Eloise and Olivia bore an expression suggesting it was still processing its transformation from living creature to taxidermy ornament.
Jeff HernandezPublished 3 years ago in HumansThe Empty Boat Down Ternham Way
I've always preferred running outdoors. It gives you the feeling of going somewhere, even if it's nowhere in particular. You secretly hope to discover something new. There's a canal that cuts through Ternham way. It's fringed by far reaching trees that seem to peer at their own liquid reflections when the water's still, even as they move with the breeze. The dirt path lining it was the perfect running route.
Nessy WriterPublished 3 years ago in HumansThese Secrets Aren't My Truth
When you suggest we peek through the cracked front door to make sure everything is okay, I pause. The cadence of your rushed syllables meets the gossamer from my icy sigh. We are almost home, I think, as I stand next to you on the sidewalk, parallel to a row of houses. Your eyes plead with me, a palpable urgency. I put my hands in my jacket, feel the alcohol warming my insides, release another sigh. It is late, the bar closed, and I want to go home.
Shelby NewsomePublished 3 years ago in HumansHow to Take Back What You’ve Lost
Date: 02/27/16 Title: Of course this would be how I'm introduced to my last living family member: a will. I’ll start this journal how I start all my others and preface with my intent:
Lily StantonPublished 3 years ago in HumansSaffron
Jimmy, Johnny and Joey’s lives changed forever. At 2:07am on Saturday June 15th, 1984 a sinkhole swallowed their neighborhood. They snuck out of their homes the night before to raise hell in the city. They were 17. Best friends since kindergarten they couldn’t believe their eyes.
Buck BraceyPublished 3 years ago in HumansCurious Little Find
My mother recently passed, and her lawyer had contacted me requesting a meeting regarding her Will. I arrived in the downtown area early and with time on my hands, I decided to wonder around this little bookstore I found tucked back between its towering neighbors; like a child hiding behind its mother. Dust danced in a weak stream of light that ushered me in the door. The musty scent aged books give off comforts me as I peruse the shelves hoping to find something of interest. I happen upon this black, label less, journal. My interest now peaked, I flipped through the pages when I noticed the time. I quickly made my way to the counter to purchase my find and headed out to my meeting.
Published 3 years ago in HumansDiscovery
Part 1 Thick smoke rolled all around them, the boys giggling and all of them coughing, the smell of burning dung filling all the space in their noses. Esmerelda knew it was James, he was always getting in trouble with the sisters by pulling pranks, telling stories and making people laugh, but she was pretty sure this time they would break the stick on him. Jack and Agnes, her best friends, grabbed her and they ran from the fire while others ran towards it with buckets of water.
Rhiannon DavisPublished 3 years ago in HumansThe Letter
Most people don’t deserve authenticity. Simply, they don’t desire it. Those who desire peace deserve peace. Those who desire ill-will deserve ill-will. Many people desire polished, revised relationships that are converted into art and literature to be quickly consumed and rarely revisited.