literature

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

The Last Page
You almost walk by it. Many probably had. After all, there’s not many who’ll pick up trash that isn’t theirs, even fewer still that would leave the nature trail to do so. You wish you could have said it was good intentions that made you do it but, truthfully, it was curiosity. Plastic bags were, unfortunately, plentiful enough. This one, though, called to you. Maybe it was the way the freezer bag stiffly held itself or maybe it was the past autumn leaves that had been gathered and piled around and on top of it. Something about it lured you over, making you take a closer peek.
By Ms. Annie Nohn6 years ago in Humans
Finders Keepers
Had I known, back then, where my discoveries would lead, I don’t know that I would have ever investigated any further. I would have thrown that damn book as far away as possible.
By E.A. Feld6 years ago in Humans
The Stories We Keep
There were two things I remembered most from my childhood. The first, and the main reason I was paying good money to see a therapist twice a month, was that my parents were incredibly inept at, well, parenting. It seemed they’d had me as some sort of bizarre challenge to fulfill some picture perfect family ideal, but as soon as the high from their achievement wore off, they’d grown bored of me. When silly little me finally figured out they were never really going to be an active part of my life, I found other ways to keep myself occupied. This led me to the second thing I remembered most as a kid.
By Shaw6 years ago in Humans
Little Black Book
The doorbell distracted me from unpacking. I sighed in frustration and went to answer it. What could only be described as a little old lady stood on my doorstep.
By Vanessa T6 years ago in Humans
Winning Big
Lyndsey’s RV space was towards the front of the RV park, where the manager also had her old RV up on bricks. The manager’s name was Donnamarie. Her hair hung around her face and down to her midsection in greying waves that obscured her face. Donnamarie seemed to have bloomed out of the 1960s. She wore tie-dye and jeans, and from the management office, a cloud of aromatic pot smoke followed her outside like a trail of personalized perfume.
By Lisa Dryer6 years ago in Humans
The Trials of Juanis
January 12th, 1966 New Orleans, Louisiana Juanis Laton was a child, 13 years old, barely graduating 7th grade. The boy lived with his mother in a small house next to the bayou. They didn’t have much and the most expensive item in his home was a medium sized colored TV. Summer had just migrated in and the air was damp and smelled of algae and must. Everyone who lived in the bayou during the summertime had shining skin due to the humidity. Their skin glistened as their faces were covered in restlessness and contempt for themselves. But, Juanis was different, his face gleamed with hope and his head filled with aspirations of grandiose feats and desires.
By K.L. Wilson6 years ago in Humans
What’s It Like To Hit The Jackpot of a Lifetime
The last day I can remember, I went to a gas station before heading to the plasma donation center, in hopes of getting enough money together to get a cheap hotel room for the night
By Jessica Bugg6 years ago in Humans
The things he left behind
It was blank. Come ON! You have GOT to be kidding. Miriam threw it across the room, narrowly missing the mirror, and immediately cursed her stupidity.
By Julie Hosking6 years ago in Humans
Little Black Book
There it was, just sitting there. Wedged between the chair cushions. It was crumpled, slightly faded and abandoned. One of the main reasons I like visiting old bookstores is because I secretly hope I will stumble across something out of the ordinary, like a small note that someone has slid inside a book with their deepest, darkest secret written on.
By Lionelle Galloppa6 years ago in Humans
The Allotment
The old woman’s prophecy came true only after he’d forgotten it. It was grim January. The sun was retreating from the frosted earth, moving crablike in its backwards shuffle. The dim light filtered through cotton-dense clouds, gray as a feline mood.
By Gregg Newby6 years ago in Humans
What happened to the Little Black Book?
Chapter 1: Matthew I’m awakened from my sleep by the sound of my alarm clock beeping loudly. Don’t get me wrong, I love being an apprentice baker, but I definitely don’t love getting up at 3:00am, six days a week. I roll over to the other side of my bed and slam my hand over the snooze button. Five more minutes of rest is all that I can allow myself. If I showed up even a minute late to work, Pierre, my boss and the owner of Grand de Paris, would have a fit.
By Tara6 years ago in Humans
Marty's Paw
Marty sat on the same New York corner where he always sat. It was fall, but one of those fall days that lets you know that fall will be ending soon, that it will quickly turn into winter. And winter is the worst when you have nowhere warm to go.
By S.J. Morey 6 years ago in Humans