literature
Whether written centuries ago or just last year, literary couples show that love is timeless.
The tail of the Andes
03/28/2015 Dear Gaby, I hate to say it, but you were right. I really should have done that Duolingo app or at least learned some basic phrases before getting here. I landed about an hour ago, paid way too much for a taxi (how many pesos do you get for a dollar, again?), and ended up at this coffee shop because the only words I knew were “café” and “por favor”. On a positive note, the coffee really is good, and I can see the tail of the Andes from my table outside. It is hot, but it is that dry heat where you don’t really notice that it is 90 degrees outside. I think I will come back here tomorrow. I have a feeling I’ve discovered my new favorite writing spot. Not too bad for a first day in Mendoza, huh?
A Life in Colour
I leaned into the breeze filtering through the cracked window, trying to enjoy what I felt was going to be the last moment of simplicity for a very long time. Lush Maryland fields had melted from New Jersey neon, plains of Empire State concrete from azure suburban Connecticut skies, the swaying Rhode Islandian wheatgrass tumbling out of the river-run Bay State metropolis of eastern Massachusetts, all birthed from the mountainous highways of New Hampshire; a blur of hour after countless hour of wheels on tarmac.
Betsy ChadbournPublished 3 years ago in HumansMy Sweets
Where are the candles? 9 but-soon-to-be-10 year old Heidi Barnes was confused, and not pleased. Finally, she could have two giant numbers on her cake.
Oriana LadaPublished 3 years ago in HumansBig Imaginations
James turned 11 today, he had been in the orphanage for years now and the monotonous routine was normal for him, but there was one day a year where it was different. His birthday was his special day because this was the only day of the year, besides Christmas, where he received anything. He had hardly been able to sleep at all last night because he was too excited. He was wishing for coloured pencils this year; he had seen them advertised in a shop window and asked the Orphanage Master, Mister Tembley, if he could have them for his birthday with only a “perhaps” as an answer. Perhaps wasn’t a no.
Chelcie MorrisPublished 3 years ago in HumansAS FATE WOULD HAVE IT
If there was one thing about the pandemic that Jewell appreciated, it was the ability to work from home. Although she loved her job, the commute was horrible and she hated driving in the traffic, but she hated even more the thought of public transportation or worse, taxi cabs. She had tried walking because it was not much more than a mile, but one time pushing through the mob with no way to avoid contact had been enough. She shuddered just recalling it. She was from a small town in southern Iowa, where you might have some traffic weekday mornings, and you will meet very few people walking anywhere. Except for the mall walkers, which is why she’d stopped going there.
Terri RuleyPublished 3 years ago in HumansA Piece of Home
One thing I’ve learned in my 35 years is that home isn’t always a singular place, not really anyway. My belief is that it’s pieces of us scattered everywhere along our journey. The places and people, the moments frozen in our memories that captured pieces of our hearts, our souls. Those who bring solace by just residing in their presence. My heart ached for that peace more than ever before and fluttered in anticipation as the drive grew closer to a piece of my home. The elation dimmed by the devastation of knowing that while the place would still be an incomparable comfort, the people had passed. It had been a year of chaos and tragedy, ending with the unexpected loss of my grandparents. The small town of Barre, VT, would always hold some of my most cherished memories but never again would they be shared with those I held so dear. A sense of belonging rushed through me as I pulled uphill into the familiar dirt driveway shaded by towering pines; it was all so bittersweet. The tears betrayed my strong facade, streaming uncontrollably down my cheeks. I let them fall and gave into a loud, deep scream, allowing all the built up pain to escape. There was land for miles, wide open fields and dense forests to drown out the volume of my emotions and allow my soul to breathe once again.
Michelle HarperPublished 3 years ago in HumansAngels of Luck
“This is a bit juvenile, even for us.” “Shut up Marcus! Just light the bag and let’s get out of here,” Sarah tried to scream in a loud whisper.
William FriendPublished 3 years ago in HumansHow To
You ever impulse buy things? Yeah. I do that a lot. Probably too much. You know how the cycle goes. Bored, scrolling through your phone, and that, well… impulse just hits you. You want to buy something. You don’t need it, but you need it. Of course, then it arrives however long later, and you realise you didn’t actually want it in the first place. What am I going to do with a replica card game set straight out of a video game? Yeah, that kind of a thing.
Callum HamiltonPublished 3 years ago in HumansIn case of loss, please return to:
Sam waits for the park to empty of the last runners and children and dogs sniffing at shadows. Then takes a final look at the note, traces the words with a trembling finger and tucks the book into the elbow of an elm tree. Beyond the pink edges of canopy, the hollow shells of buildings begin to wink Morse code until the city is aglow again. The sound of water and its message stops rushing through his head and Sam wonders if there’s any chance of finding them here. A faint equation of hope carries him home on the subway.
Tamryn BennettPublished 3 years ago in HumansFortunate
It was definitely time for Chinese food. Sesame chicken was calling to me. Actually, it was more likely that my mouth was demanding some MSG. A fortune cookie or three also wouldn’t hurt. Either way, I was headed downtown to The Great Wall. It was my absolute favorite Chinese place.
Rainey EddyPublished 3 years ago in HumansLittle Black Book
Thick clouds of ashes rose with each sudden movement, flying with the raging winds. Every step fuelled my curiosity and led my eyes across the embers. Single bricks lay scattered along with torn pages and cracked glass. I glanced around, always keeping my head down, with my arms folded across my chest. A turbulent wind threw the embers into the sky, revealing a simple black cover. Carefully, I picked up the black book and brushed off the remaining ash. I peeled open the cover before feasting my eyes on the cream pages. Some had been folded or ripped but many had stains of coloured ink or indents of written words. Immediately, I stumbled across a disturbing question. Did this particular book belong purely to the library that once stood here, or was it hidden for another reason? I paced around the area looking for any remaining clues that could hint to what this book was really for. I gripped the book tightly in my right hand and walked briskly towards home.
Claire SchomannPublished 3 years ago in HumansThe Desk
Though the sky was heavy hung with creamy terracotta clouds like the fleshy belly of a salmon— clouds that promised rain to come— Doll did not give a second thought to the laundry she had left out on the washing line. Something had happened, something so inexplicably wonderful that even now, when she held the slip of paper with her name and that number printed in such wondrous, terrifying proximity that she could scarce believe it, or even allow herself to consider believing it.
Elizabeth Jean BowiePublished 3 years ago in Humans