literature
Whether written centuries ago or just last year, literary couples show that love is timeless.
Little Black Book
There it was, just sitting there. Wedged between the chair cushions. It was crumpled, slightly faded and abandoned. One of the main reasons I like visiting old bookstores is because I secretly hope I will stumble across something out of the ordinary, like a small note that someone has slid inside a book with their deepest, darkest secret written on.
Lionelle GalloppaPublished 3 years ago in HumansThe Allotment
The old woman’s prophecy came true only after he’d forgotten it. It was grim January. The sun was retreating from the frosted earth, moving crablike in its backwards shuffle. The dim light filtered through cotton-dense clouds, gray as a feline mood.
Gregg NewbyPublished 3 years ago in HumansWhat happened to the Little Black Book?
Chapter 1: Matthew I’m awakened from my sleep by the sound of my alarm clock beeping loudly. Don’t get me wrong, I love being an apprentice baker, but I definitely don’t love getting up at 3:00am, six days a week. I roll over to the other side of my bed and slam my hand over the snooze button. Five more minutes of rest is all that I can allow myself. If I showed up even a minute late to work, Pierre, my boss and the owner of Grand de Paris, would have a fit.
Marty's Paw
Marty sat on the same New York corner where he always sat. It was fall, but one of those fall days that lets you know that fall will be ending soon, that it will quickly turn into winter. And winter is the worst when you have nowhere warm to go.
S.J. MoreyPublished 3 years ago in HumansMemories
Sleep-ridden, my mind registered vague shapes and murmurs through squinted eyes, as if I were eavesdropping on a reality I ought not to see. As I slowly regained consciousness, some words grew clearer until one in particular brought me to my senses. Heather. Not the flower, but my name. However, it had not come from whatever hallucination I was having, but from my mother, who by the sounds of it, was across the hallway outside my door, likely pacing as she does when attending to a particularly stressful call.
Where No One Dares Go
They never had storms like this, not in Riley's little town. It had always been such a serene place. So unsuspecting. A quiet hamlet tucked away from the chaos of the rest of the world. However, for tonight at least, the blackened sky above her was angry; unrelenting.
Siobhan PickettPublished 3 years ago in HumansA Matter of Honor
It was 1997. I was a senior in high school, eager to venture out into the world and secure in the knowing the universe revolved around me. The world wide web was America Online, everyone on the planet wanted to wear Air Jordans, and I lived around the corner from the Mall of America. What more proof did I need?
Jim GourleyPublished 3 years ago in HumansImmigrant
Work, work and work again. Just another day in this company. I wish I could say that I like it, but, honestly, it was just one big joke. I remember what my boss told me once:
Dominik VladulovičPublished 3 years ago in HumansA Little Black Book
A Little Black Book By Nancee Wipperfurth Killoran Susan tripped in the mud on the playground. She had ducked out of the staff meeting in the library because the air was stifling. Dust had settled across the tops and down the spines of the books on the shelves and found its way through her mask and into her nose, and she had started to sneeze. One of her colleagues had offered her a tissue. Even that had the smell of dust. In-person school was due back after the virus and this was the first in a series of staff meetings. Susan had pulled her mask down in the fresh virus-free air outside. She wondered if the students had come to this playground while school was virtual. Did they wear masks? Did they wash their hands after?
Nancee MariePublished 3 years ago in HumansLittle Black Journal
“SIR, YOU LEFT YOUR…” it was no use, thought Mosbey. The gentleman in the clean blue suit had already stepped off the train and into the rain under the shade of his umbrella. How could a man in a suit forget anything? Especially something he was just writing in. Mosbey hopped across the aisle into the now empty neighboring seat and picked up the notebook. It was a small black thing, small enough to fit into one’s breast pocket, so he put it in his own. Other riders on the platform plodded onto the train car and found themselves empty seats. Then the whistle blew and the train departed.
Finders, Keepers
Finders Keepers An adventure between a self-proclaimed Pirate, and a Maine Ice Princess. Late January 2020. Let us look in.
Colette Shumate SmithPublished 3 years ago in HumansAn Unexpected Ally
A door slams shut aways left… neighbor exiting house. Across the street, a thin, stray-lookin' dog makes its' rounds. Child-laughter lingers in the air fair, fresh n' hopeful.
Andrew McKayPublished 3 years ago in Humans