literature
Whether written centuries ago or just last year, literary couples show that love is timeless.
As it's Written
The man took a long sip before spitting half the drink back in the cup. The barista had gotten his order wrong. It was always the same barista who got his order wrong. And another Chai Tea. He didn’t understand. Did he look like a man who drank Chai Tea?
Peter VoithPublished 3 years ago in HumansPages for Not
Another day at the construction site, and as most days go it wasn’t a bad one. The weather was decent, the material made it on the barge this morning screaming job security. If you’d asked me what I would be doing after graduation I wouldn’t have said leading a construction crew, but you have to do what you gotta’ do to get by.
Joshua PartridgePublished 3 years ago in HumansDahlia
The girl runs her fingers down the side of the thin mattress, her tiny nails catching on the worn fabric of the sheet. Her hand travels a scant foot below her pallet and then across the floor in search of the found treasure she placed there the night before, just before her mother turned off the light, just before her older sister, told her to lie still now!
Graci and Mr. LeePublished 3 years ago in HumansHave A Good One
The baby was kicking again. Sidney Lapert rubbed her aching abdomen, bruised blue-green lumps deforming an otherwise smooth sphere. A proper protruding tummy. It was bigger than she thought it would or could get, every day growing a bit bigger until all she saw was her bulging belly when she reached to tie her shoes.
Lisa MuschinskiPublished 3 years ago in HumansLittle Black Book
Wet. She reached over and with a trembling hand, turned on the light. 2:30am. Breathe. This is my bed, my quilt, my pillows, my sheets, my room in the house I bought. I am here. I feel the sheets on my skin, the sweat sliding down my shoulder blades. It is quiet. I am here. I am safe.
Krissie MaddenPublished 3 years ago in HumansNefarious Tea
Now hear me out. I am not prone to bouts of hallucinogenic insanity. Anxiety? Sure. Depressive episode? Who hasn’t been there? But I can tell you with absolute certainty that what I see has always been in true and proper alignment with reality. So please..tell me how I seem to be standing on an actual cloud.
The Unbalanced OptimistPublished 3 years ago in HumansJan - Pierre's - Petty - Theft
Friday morning coffee routine, same as every other day; a whole french press - two big dollops of sugar- a freshly rolled cigarette out the kitchen window, followed by 15 minutes on the bog whilst scrolling through the morning's news feed; Boris’s new coronavirus lockdown measures, Trump's latest antics, unforeseen financial crisis, we’ve landed on Mars again and the Queen has brought a new dog into the Royal family.
Samuele SinibaldiPublished 3 years ago in HumansThe Little Black Book
Michael is a stock broker at a well renowned investment firm in NYC. He works in the Financial District with a 3-bedroom penthouse loft in SOHO. He has worked his whole life to get where he is now.
Alexis FentonPublished 3 years ago in HumansIf Hemingway Only Knew
This strange tale is not about a simple notebook. It is not even really about Ernest Hemingway, a burly, hard-drinking Pulitzer and Nobel prize-winning journalist and writer of the twentieth century who was also an adventurer, revolutionary sympathiser and profligate womanizer. Anyway, much has already been written about Ernest, his books and his "iceberg style" of writing that helped shape men for generations. Most people know he blew his ruggedly handsome face off with a shotgun in 1961. Many may even know that the night before his suicide, his last words were "Goodnight my kitten." to Mary, his fourth wife. Some may know he was injured some years before in a terrible plane crash. A few still seek out his books to imagine a better, harder life than they have today.
RJ AshfieldPublished 3 years ago in HumansDarkest Before Dawn
The autumn leaves rustled beneath Brandon’s feet as he ambled through the woods. The crisp night air swept through the mop of hair on his head that was in need of a good wash. Brandon’s feet were screaming at him after working 4 12 hour shifts in the Emergency Department. Bobby, Brandon’s boisterous golden Labrador Retriever, had gotten loose for the third time this week. As luck would have it, the moon was full and seemed to be fueling the chaos. Brandon had a hectic day at work and was looking forward to face planting into his bed after taking a hot shower. Instead of beginning to vegetate in his room for the next 24 hours, Brandon was following Bobby on a wild goose chase. Sticks crunched under Bobby’s paws as he ran between the trees. Brandon noticed that Bobby was running toward the huge gnarled oak tree that stood in a clearing. It was quite an eerie sight at night.
Everything Returns In Love
I stand perched beside the lighthouse like a mythological creature summoned to protect what it loves. The ancient Scottish sea cliffs and I greet the sun as it rises and sets daily. I imagine someday my bones will become a part of the stones. My breath an echo on the wind. My words, all that remain of me, a reminder that everything does return in love. A daily hope cast out to sea. A human ritual of trust and surrender to what is to come.
Sarah-Alexandra TeodorescuPublished 3 years ago in HumansUnder the Umbrella
Under the Umbrella "I'm sorry, but I don't understand why I'm here." Dean Bridges glanced around the elderly lawyer's comfortable office taking in the richly framed certificates, the shelves of well-used law books, and the expanse of the mahogany desk across from him. "I don't know anyone named Priscilla Barnes."
Tamara LorenzPublished 3 years ago in Humans