literature

Whether written centuries ago or just last year, literary couples show that love is timeless.

The Widow and the Doctor
Tonight was the night she was going to meet her future husband, she was sure of it. He was perfect, at least as far as she could tell from his picture on the dating app. His eyes were a mischievious blue and his smile was more of a playful smirk. He had a boyish charm about him, but his button up shirt and suit coat displayed a confidence and power that she found sexy in her men. No he wasn't the first, and he probably wouldn't be the last. Patrice had unfortunetly been widowed more times than any thirty something should have been. Her last husband had been killed in a shooting accident while he was out hunting with his buddies. Her husband before him was her highschool sweet heart and he passed away while they were on vacation celebrating his most recent promotion. Patrice tried not to let the past bring her down. She was going on a date tonight with Dr. Alex Hartte.
By L.A. Kirchheimer 5 years ago in Humans
To Only You, This is Left
So, I crawled inside myself, while the spiteful words you spit, hit my chest, ears, and heart. Knowing you are talking out the side of your neck about my character and wit. Cease and desist with your reckless ramblings. I take that for insecurity and dependence, see, I’m just going to tell how it is. Traveling down this road, time has come to tell the tale of how we met and fell for each other while standing. I was busy chasing knowledge, wisdom, another reality when you crossed my path. I was pursing what God had for me and so were you. I looked around and we became inseparable friends. Taking trips, enjoying ministry, learning more about one another each minute we invest.
By Mary R Holt-Willis5 years ago in Humans
Sabrina Salad
Everyone in town knew the Demarco family, a bunch of liars, thieves, and drunks. I went to school with the four kids, and the oldest one frequently got suspended. The youngest was in my grade and always kept to himself doodling on every scrap of paper he owned. The teachers feared parent-teacher meetings because the dad always brought a flask and a knife. Their mother thought they were perfect children and would defend her oldest until she turned blue in the face.
By Stephanie Watson5 years ago in Humans
Dream Seam
The darkness hovered over Jean like a black hole from the void. She couldn't move; she couldn't breathe. Invisible sweat trickled down her forehead, the feeling spreading over her as oxygen perspired through her skin like the wind on a cool summer's day. She shivered and tried to relax as time stood still and hour hands marched in her mind.
By William Bundy5 years ago in Humans
Changing Lines
Snowfall mutes the roar of the flames on my apartment to a soft and contented purr. I stand here numbly, not only from the cold, and watch my rent burn away.
By Asahel Spotten5 years ago in Humans
Uncovering True Love
I had just touched the rim of my Merlot glass to my lips when the doorbell rang. "He's finally here," I thought to myself as I set my glass down on the end table next to my books. I hadn't been this excited in months; my belly effervesced with anticipation as I headed toward the front door.
By Gabrielle Neavin5 years ago in Humans
Dear Maya and Toni
Dear Dr. Maya Angelou and Ms. Toni Morrison: I imagine that, in your places of rest, you’re unburdened of the tragedies and injustices of the living world. I imagine you’re sleeping peacefully under the stars. I imagine your days are full of laughter, food that edifies your bodies and souls, passionate discussion, and art. If you’ll indulge me I hope you’ll read the letters that I’ve written to both of you.
By Takeia R. Johnson5 years ago in Humans
LOVE
Start writing... December 10, 2018 She was looking adorable, more extraordinary than usual. Her elegant face with a million-dollar smile flickered her innocence. Her eyes were deep, mesmerising and pretty as lotus petals. They were sparkling and full of joy and happiness. Her halfly curled hair was tied loose. It was falling by the side of her neck, back her ears and down the shoulder. She was looking beautiful in that white dress with a bouquet of white lily flowers.
By Deeya5 years ago in Humans
Goodnight, Beverly
I discovered the public library at the age of six. I had already been introduced to the school library, which was certainly impressive to a youngster who would rather read than play, but the public library was something far beyond my little-girl expectations.
By Paula Shablo5 years ago in Humans
THE PREDICTOR
In Africa, there are several masks and different types of masks. They are not the same. These masks are very different. These masks prices vary. They do not cost the same thing, and the value of these masks is different and important.
By Sandra Bongjoh5 years ago in Humans
Her Name Is Joan
I laid on the table smelling the burning incense. Her warm hands touched my cold body. I shivered on the table as the temperature dropped around me. My late brother paced around the table watching this shaman woman work.
By Em Short5 years ago in Humans
I Died to Myself
I knew there was a life breathed within me. I was led to such truth in the perceived highs of my life. Status held in corporate America, good education, good income, highly desired and respectable career, a home I lived in a neighborhood I loved, time, freedom. Those highs can actually be the lows when you're digging deep to find something inside, seeking to capture the worldly things becomes so shallow. Though I was always in tune with the creation and that still small voice within, it led me to another way, a deeper one that blessed me with more intimacy and love for and from the life within me. I was drawn near to the deeper parts inside myself, my heart was ravished, my soul was watered, as I listened to that still small voice inside. I was disciplined and taught obedience. I learned to listen, hear, and follow the still small voice, the yearning heart, and that gut instinct.
By Faith Ann Coates5 years ago in Humans