literature
Whether written centuries ago or just last year, literary couples show that love is timeless.
Stories I'll Tell When I See You Again
I swear I could see icicles on your eyelashes, a raindrop hanging off the tip of your nose. It was a cold morning when you flew into the bakery, the bells on the door chiming like leaves whispering of an approaching storm. Beneath your pale skin were bright eyes, the promise of warmth. Then you smiled that James Dean smile and my stomach fell to the floor. In the blur, you asked about the smell in the air and I replied chocolate croissants and almond torte. You walked closer and I blushed. It was a day I will never forget; Thursday, April 2, 1964.
By Jess Sambuco5 years ago in Humans
Republic
“Ship’s gaining on us, Captain,” said Joshua Biles, first mate of the Crosswind. He was climbing up to the quarter deck where the captain was currently at the wheel. His long coat flapped in the wind as he climbed the steps and, once he was stood next to the captain, he checked his pistol and stuffed it back into his belt.
By Chris Cunliffe5 years ago in Humans
The Americo Maltese Tripts To The Flat Earth.
Before leaving the port of his beloved Buenos Aires, Americo Maltese checked all the equipment that he had to carry on his long journey. An error or omission could mean death. The fragile ten-foot sailboat had been overhauled to death. The tiny converter from salt water to drinking water, the box of hooks, the dried vegetables, the first aid kit and other items, had been grouped in waterproof boxes, duly marked and attached with a system of rails and clips on the bow of the boat. The navigation instruments were, fortunately, reduced to a GPS that was perfectly adapted to navigate the flat earth monitored by the only existing satellite.
By Juan Laborde5 years ago in Humans
Dream Date With A Glass Of Merlot
I smile graciously at the shiny, plastic face of the maître d’ as I sweep through the candlelit entrance. Looking directly into the immovable gaze of his painted eyes, I thank him as I pass. I feel intoxicatingly powerful; the restaurant is an unfamiliar world where I am a celebrity, a queen, where I have some concealed power that fills me with vibrancy and vitality.
By Will Thoresby5 years ago in Humans
Beginnings
I remember your faces. I wake before dawn in the briny air. The sky is in transition from black to indigo, a crescent moon still up, the water glassy in the stillness. I hear from the next bay south the whizz of a small fishing boat; trickling down from a nearby terrace one of the European languages, every syllable decipherable in the quiet but meaningless. It’s high summer, the night is warm. An empty bottle rolls from one side of the deck to the other as I collect my things. I leave you still asleep. Seeing your head resting on a garish swan float makes me smile.
By Claire Emmaline5 years ago in Humans
A Flicker of Candle Light
It had been a long day at work. Every day was a long day. I suppose that’s what happens when you work for a paycheck rather than for something you believe in. I tossed my bag on the desk, careful to avoid the half-full glass of water sitting too close to my laptop.
By Jennifer Knighton5 years ago in Humans
Every Day at Seven o'Clock
Henry Cummings was not the most social person ever to grace the planet. As a former community college professor, he had perfected his daily routine over nearly thirty years. Classes had been in the morning, he had read and graded class work such as papers and exams in the afternoon, and then he had gone home around four o'clock. A light dinner then had followed. Everyone had known not to disturb him past seven o'clock, even his wife Charlotte when she had been alive. In that way, reading had been the passion where he had always allowed himself indulgence.
By Jillian Spiridon5 years ago in Humans
The Telltale Traits
“But how can you tell?” “Well, you can’t,” Rob said, running a hand through his hair. It stuck up on end like he’d been electrocuted. It made him look just as crazy as he sounded. “That’s the whole point, that you can’t. Unless they mess up. Justin Bieber messed up. Justin Bieber transformed into a lizard in front of thousands of people in Australia.”
By Kendra Recht5 years ago in Humans
Right or Wrong
Here is the next chapter in my book Right or Wrong Chapter 1 The Start Herbert Jenkins he was born November the 25th 1952 he was the firstborn son of Glenn and Mary Jenkins and at that time Glenn was nearly 50 years old. He had absolutely no time for Herbert when he was a small boy. His schedule kept him entirely too busy to allow for much of that. Herbert was not a spoiled child. Glenn would never allow that; it would draw too much attention to the family.
By David F Anderson5 years ago in Humans
Baby Birds
The sky was a blue so light that George laughed to himself, thinking about God accidentally mixing in too much white paint and hoping no one would notice. It was one of those mornings that came once every year just to tell you that Spring had arrived. George sat with Hattie outside, both of them slumped over on the last step of the tiny, wooden staircase like lazy, sunbathing dogs. Hattie thought about the sun and how the warmth of that morning or maybe just that time of every morning was hard to describe; It was hot and sticky, but it didn’t weigh you down. The early sun was friendlier than the one they were used to coming home to in the mid-afternoon.
By Sona McDowell5 years ago in Humans
