literature
Whether written centuries ago or just last year, literary couples show that love is timeless.
Damp Fire
On the first day of my life as Maria Garcia, they told me skin was fish food for days, but the baby was safe. Smoke enough tobacco, and you'd have heaven itself smelling like your local pub; that was precisely what Doctor Jones did wherever he went, and on that day, the first day of my life as Maria, he chose to satiate the ashtray by my hospital bed. Oh, I knew I ought to be used to the smell of wet cigarette ends--I knew some things I know I always knew. And thus, as Doctor Jones carried on narrating how the kind fishermen of Carmarthen spotted my body floating along the shore where Laugharne Castle stood, I knew I missed out on something somewhere. Doctor Jones told me how among suitcases, champagne bottles, jewelry boxes, hardbound books, leather-bound notebooks, hollow ceramic icons of gods and saints, cans of Pepsi-Cola, cigar cases, and shards of the plane I went down with, my belly swelled out to the chill and seagulls. My hands got nibbled to the bone, so they couldn't know if I had a ring.
By T.M. García-Reiș6 years ago in Humans
The Second Death of Mr Arlington-Locke
Olive Arlington-Locke was four years old when her father died for the first time. Her family lived in Edinburgh at the top of a Victorian townhouse, in an apartment tastefully decorated by her psychologist mother. It had been a straightforward accident: a shifting of space, a window mistaken for a mirror, and a fall. After the funeral, the neighbours across the hall had gifted them a vegan casserole. It had sat, stubbornly, on the kitchen counter for ten days before its own burial in the food waste bin. Olive remembers watching the progression of decay on its mealy surface and imagining her father succumbing to the same process.
By Laura Croenen6 years ago in Humans
Copi
They pushed her off the cliff. All assuming she had fallen to her death, the crowd dismantled. No one waited long enough to see that she had survived properly. The fall was fierce. Instant gushes of wind maneuvering her flow for landing, hair as velvety as can be; she thumped. Into a head of lions feasting on an already dead body for supper, she thumped. “Oof”, murmured Copi as she slowly scurried away from the herd. No blood pierced through a pore on her flesh of fate. The lions were too consumed thrashing into the flesh of another, Copi managed to crawl out from under. During her escape, she saw a little black book. Drenched in blood, it embraced Copi’s intrigue to grab it swiftly and run.
By Maude Carruthers6 years ago in Humans
The search
Past It’s the 1800’s . A woman who was once married to a very rich man is now a widow. When her husband dies, she inherits his wealth, something that angers his relatives. For the rest of her life, she fights against his greedy family and before she dies, she hides all the money. She never marries again, fearing suitors are only interested in acquiring her fortune.
By Becantie Kouame6 years ago in Humans
Time Capsule
33 year old Vice Principal Denise T. Franco stepped up to the podium outside Tubman Middle School. “Welcome, school board members, parents, former students, and current students to the day we have all been waiting for...” She scanned the crowd of onlookers and was impressed with the attendance. “Twenty years ago, when I was a student at this very school, we buried a time capsule. To preserve the memories of what life was like at our school.” She paused again to survey the crowd. Quite a few people were in attendance. She had hoped for more but was satisfied. “We took the time to select items that represented not only who we were but who we wanted to be in the future. Items that would show what made us into the people we are today.”
By Mark Herbert6 years ago in Humans
How I got rich and always looked back
September 3, Labor Day Weekend It is a truth universally acknowledged that every college student is in need of money, especially if you study history like me. It is also well known that simply working a job to obtain money is a rather tedious, slow, not to mention utterly dull way. I simply don't have the patience for it, or at least, I intend to put up a fight before resigning to this old-fashioned ideal. If I have learned anything from my studies, it is that whoever writes history literally dictates it. It is for this reason that I have decided to commit my quick-easy-big-bucks-money-making-ideas to this little black notebook I am writing in. Perhaps one day I will look on it as the beginning of greatness and publish it as a genius’ memoire with the following dedication, “To all those who believe in the power of laziness to drive innovation,” or maybe, “to those with a dwarf’s zeal for gold as well as his lack of heroism in obtaining it.”
By Simone De Cleene6 years ago in Humans
The blink of an eye
“If I had one wish, it would be to rewind time. I just don’t understand why life can take such a toll. She was just here, and now she’s gone forever.” I thought to myself as I waited for the shuttle to get me to work. It’s been two long months since my mom, my best friend, has died. Now, I’m forced to move either with my drunk of a dad, or my dummy of a sister. Honestly, I believe I can do it myself, but I’m just a broke girl trying to get my GED at the moment. So yeah, I don’t have many options.
By Taylor Bryant6 years ago in Humans
