literature
Whether written centuries ago or just last year, literary couples show that love is timeless.
Lenney
She was getting frustrated. It had been a long day. Heck, it had been a long year! I’m getting out of the house! she thought to herself.
Marilyn LargenPublished 3 years ago in HumansI Wish
I wish we never found the little black book. I wish we never found the $20,000. I wish we could go back to the days before we cared about anything. I wish I didn’t feel this pain.
Kevin pikePublished 3 years ago in HumansThe $20,000 Chameleons
Tara sipped on her venti mocha swirl perusing the golden, silver and bronze lamp stands at her first stop of the day. She knew she didn’t need any of these items, but the thrill of hunting for a treasure that the tag sale owner didn’t realize they had was exhilarating; the best way to spend a Saturday in Tara’s mind. Sometimes she felt bad, as if she should say something. Something like, “Hey! Lady! You can’t sell this for 2 bucks! This is worth hundreds! It’s a first edition! Are you daft?!” She knew she just didn’t have it in her. Instead she bought whatever item with a slight smirk on her triangular face with the sharp chin her mom always said reminded her of Jay Leno. I know right, way to affect confidence in your young child’s life. As if it wasn’t hard enough to fit in. But that was neither here nor there. She loved her mom and always wished she had her full approval; but then again, who had full parental approval at every moment?
Jessica ParnassoPublished 3 years ago in HumansOne Way Ticket
The first thing you should do when you win the lottery is nothing. Go nowhere. Tell no one. Think through your next steps and come up with a strategy before you do anything at all. Then you call a lawyer. At least, that's the move when it's a very large amount of money. Winning $20,000 is nothing to sniff at, but it's also not an incredibly large sum. A year's salary for someone making the bare minimum. Enough to pay off some debts and maybe have enough left over for one extra-extravagant meal—if you're the responsible type.
My Name is Yilin
My name is Yilin. I came to the ocean with my little black book. I love visiting the sailors at the wharf. They are my favorite company. Since I was little, they’ve regaled me with tales of their escapades; the sights they behold, the creatures they’ve seen. They tell me how beautiful it is to be out on the ocean. They’ve given me logs from their little black books and I read them with stars in my eyes, dreaming of one day making adventures of my own.
mayah with an hPublished 3 years ago in HumansThe Broken Man
The children ran excitedly, giggling and chatting. They were going to the park to visit with their friend Ian and wanted to get there quickly so that their freshly baked Cornish Pasties stayed warm. They had met Ian several months ago, just after Aubree’s 11th birthday, and discovered that he had no home but the park. Aubree had been the first to speak to him. He always looked sad so she wanted to reach out to find out why. Of course, she was warned to stay away from strangers. This felt important to her.
Susan NeillPublished 3 years ago in HumansCasting call
An attractive young man sits waiting in a quaint restaurant in NYC. He’s meeting his old friend from back home. He hasn’t seen her in many years, not since moving here to pursue his acting career. She’s also friends with the casting director of this upcoming movie that he’s hoping to land a break-through part in.
Erica CarrPublished 3 years ago in HumansFollowing a Dream
I woke slowly, embracing the feeling of warm contentment that I can only really capture on the weekends when I’m not slamming my fist down on my alarm, desperate for five more minutes of blissful sleep. Then my alarm went off. Slamming my fist down on it, I padded to the bathroom to start my day.
lochleen macgregorPublished 3 years ago in HumansA Little Black Book
I’d been watching him all day. At first, with barely veiled contempt, then with a growing disbelief ending in wide-eyed shock. He was a nondescript man, with unmemorable stature and ambiguous features. His clothes were dirty, his shoes were torn and his large duffel bag was ripping at the seams. Even the notebook he took out and scribbled one line in after taking his seat on the park bench was unnoticeable at first glance; black, small, nondescript.
Kathryn DumkePublished 3 years ago in HumansJust a day
Alarm blaring, I slowly open my eyes to find the time is well past any ability to arrive to my workplace without getting a pink slip or worse… fired. Leaping out of bed I run to the shower and take the quickest shower in history, throw on clothes and run for the parking garage.
gayle savage DavidsonPublished 3 years ago in HumansThe Witch, the Cat and the Book
The Witch, the Cat and the Book It had been great for me to earn money as a child. Something to boast about in school. When I turned eight my Mother decided that I would walk our dog Bruno every day after school. I got five pounds per week for the walks. Earning some pocket money after school suited me well and Bruno was my best friend. Around the same time an old lady moved in with my neighbours, Mr and Mrs Calve. Along with her she brought a cat who lay curled on their Garden wall. It was black on the top and its belly was white. She was called Myra. The old lady was Mr Calve’s mother. When she moved in mother dragged us next door for introductions. ‘She’s an earls’ daughter’, my mother whispered to my father as he knocked on Calve’s door and made out introductions ‘he was the earl of Rochester, such a wealthy man!’. Old Mrs Calve waddled out to meet us berating Mr Calve as she held Myra purring in her arms and after saying hello, we all went back home.
Al McgillivrayPublished 3 years ago in HumansMad Money
Tap... Tap... Tap... Tap Jolting awake I sat straight up in bed struggling to recognize my surroundings. “Jaysus” I mumbled gripping my swollen face. I was still getting used to my new apartment and the unfamiliar sounds didn’t help my cause. Tap... tap... tap... Where was that encessent tapping coming from?? Ugh no bother probably another leak from my luxurious digs, I figured another 5mins before a search couldn’t hurt. Rubbing my eyes and yawning loudly I fell back into my bed sinking into my hangover and what was proving to be the most uncomfortable mattress I had ever slept on. “Free is free I suppose, thank you Nana.” I mermered. What was I expecting from an inherited mattress on a floor that was probably 30 years old. The springs sung squeaky hymns with every movement. Almost oddly comforting reminding me of my childhood summers spent at her house.
Elle deBhalPublished 3 years ago in Humans