literature
Whether written centuries ago or just last year, literary couples show that love is timeless.
In A Dream
A look up to the sky reveals a starless night with the thick smell of summer in the air. An occasional breeze passes by to help cool the sweat on the back of her neck. Something calls to her on this night forcing her to go outside and walk towards the large barn on the hill. Her dad had tried to make a go of it, to keep on the family business but in the end, there was nothing left to do but sell.
Unexpected
What could be worse than having to pay bills? Being behind on bills, now that was worse. Way worse. Rosemary stared down at all the bills that crowded her table. So many “past dues” and “due immediately” were staring back at her. She laid her head in her hand. What was she going to do? This giant headache of a mess was overwhelming it. It was as if it was enveloping her in this grief. And there was no way for her to escape. After losing her job, she had no idea where all the money was going to come from.
Erika AlmanzarPublished 3 years ago in HumansYou're Welcome
It was just a normal day. That’s usually how these sorts of stories start, with the narrator waxing poetic about how today was no different than the day before it. I went through my normal morning routine without a hiccup and made it to the Metro on time. The train was late, as usual, and conveniently empty. I went to the back and found a seat opposite a person who immediately caught my attention.
That Writer ChickPublished 3 years ago in HumansSecond Chances
Prologue “There’s Orion,” he whispered into my ear as we gazed up at the stars. My eyes searched the sky for a trace of something I’d never understand. I never cared much for astronomy, but I wouldn’t dare tell him that. All I genuinely cared about on these cold winter nights was snuggling up next to him on the bed of his pickup truck, as he held me tightly. “I see it,” I replied softly, as I glanced in his direction, engraving in my mind every inch of his beauty. He broke my gaze, as I looked away, tears welling in the corners of my eyes. I had been dreading this day for months; this would be last day I would be able to look into his baby blue eyes for two years.
Brittany BrownPublished 3 years ago in HumansThe Price
Sleep would not come to Isabelle that night. No matter how she lay, her bones ached against the hard, cabin floor after working so hard all day. She looked across the room at her husband, Seth, sleeping comfortably, albeit drunkenly, in their bed . . . a bed she couldn’t bring herself to share since she had come back home after seven years—years that she had thought her husband dead from the hand of privateers. She had been taught since she was a little girl that marriage was until death, no matter what. Isabelle groaned within as she tossed thoughts around in her head, remembering their joyful marriage and the birth of their twin girls . . . that is, until the privateers had burst into their cabin that day seven years ago and stolen their happiness.
Sheila R BoydPublished 3 years ago in HumansCuriosity On The Crosstown
I was sitting on the seat that faces the interior near the back of the bus. I love and hate these seats. They’ve been added to the new bus design in the last few years. You get to sit alone, but typically only when the bus is full. It’s comfortable and cramped all at the same time. Love. Hate.
The Box
It arrived in a seemingly ordinary gift box. Standard sized. Nothing pretty or special about it. The contents, however, turned out to be a bit strange.
Paige GuffeyPublished 3 years ago in HumansThe Englishman's Housekeeper (part 1)
IT would not be the first time for Jessamine Hill to have a stranger appear on her doorstep wishing to say hello and often, also requesting for an autograph. The stranger could be one individual or a small group of strangers, like how fans fancied seeing the person they admired in the flesh.
Josephine CrispinPublished 3 years ago in HumansSleep is for the Weak
I lay there in his stinking bed, wishing I could wash being dead off me and wondering where I lived. I could hear him running the shower, and for a long minute I ached to be the one standing under it and scrubbing away all traces of the morgue and these itchy, reeking sheets. I almost moved to go and say something to him, but I didn't want to have to fumble through another conversation, and I didn't want to be naked in his flat while he was here either.
L.C. SchäferPublished 3 years ago in HumansThe Record of Lives
He stood immobile in the middle of the busy city sidewalk. People walked past him, seeming to narrowly avoid colliding with him, but failing to take any notice of his presence. It was a small bubble of quiet in a city of noise, for while the sounds reached him physically, he paid no mind to them. They were trivialities to his kind, just things that existed but had no consequences for him. So he continued to stand their amidst the cacophony, unaware of anything except the one thing he was here for.
Scaylen RenvacPublished 3 years ago in HumansFollow Me
Follow Me By Britney Behanna
Britney BehannaPublished 3 years ago in HumansThe Owlman
Colonel Sebastian Storm, TV’s famous Monster Hunter, adjusted his safari hat and fiddled with his lapel mic. He looked up and flashed a smile—his unnaturally white teeth resembling a promotion for one of the Discovery Channel’s Shark Week shows.
Mason SmithPublished 3 years ago in Humans