literature

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

Burnt Journal
Motivation does not come easily anymore. Dragging myself from troubled dreams and fitful sleep has developed into a battle no one wins. Once I am up a quick look at the bed provides the first painful reminder that I am alone. From here it can only get worse. Five short steps, a turn of the knob and the water begins to cascade from an oversized showerhead purchased for the pleasure of the woman who once cherished the little things I did for her. The water washes not only the soap from my hair and body, but the nightmares that have filled each erratic night of sleep these past nineteen months.
By Tod Belt6 years ago in Humans
Where the Story Ends
Friday, January 1st, 2021 It's the beginning of a new year, hooray! (That was sarcastic btw.) We're still in a pandemic and...surprise surprise...it's 2020 again. Mom gave me this small, black notebook and a funky pen with a globe on it for Christmas. I didn't ask for it, well...I didn't ask for anything because times are tough and I'm 16 which is a little old for gifts. But she gave it to me and told me to write in it until I filled all the pages up. I rolled my eyes and groaned because writing is the last thing I want to do on winter break. But she said just scribble a few thoughts here and there and that "it could even be a drawing of your Auntie Zabine vacationing in Mexico with her 3 chihuahuas". I snorted chocolate milk out of my nose when she said that. I’ll explain Auntie Zabine later. Mom asked kindly and promised that she wasn't going to read it (frankly she doesn't have the time to do so since she works 3 jobs so I believe it). I didn't want her to feel bad. So far it’s not the worst thing in the world. But yeah, that's why I am writing to you now.
By Malina L6 years ago in Humans
Your After Death
Nothing is about, what we think it is about. That is life, the unwinding of fate, and the hindsight found only in the future. So many things have begin unexpectedly for me. Some have good out comes, and some have bad. These realities are only known after the fact.
By R.S.M6 years ago in Humans
A Little Black Book.
A Little Black Book. It was a normal day in eternity. Souls were at absolute peace awaiting their turn to return. Meanwhile, they were radiating love and gratitude all around them. There was sparkling light shining on every single soul, illuminating their unique intrinsic gifts, and enhancing their perfect medley of colors.
By Elia Santana6 years ago in Humans
Witchfully Yours
I had to wait a couple of days for the pages to dry naturally. And even more to be able to distinguish the strange symbols written in the little black book that I found on that gloomy Sunday morning alongside the dried up benches of River Lee.
By Dorin Dumitrascuta6 years ago in Humans
Wildcard
I’ve been checking my watch for an eternity now and not a single minute has passed. He’s late and he’s with another girl. I’ve never seen Johnathan Franks with the same date twice, this exclusively makes me his bitch. I’m just thankful the rich prick showed up.
By Jake Edward Lange6 years ago in Humans
The Little Black Book
“The Little Black Book” by Cheyenne Brown “Kate, get up! You’re gonna be late for your first day of college!” Mom hollered from the kitchen. I looked at the clock. It was only 7:30 a.m. I didn’t have to be there until 8, and I only live 5 minutes from the college. You know how moms are, though. I rolled my way out of bed and drug my feet to the closet. What should I wear today? Honestly, if it wasn’t for the fact that mom wouldn’t approve, I’d just wear pjs.
By Cheyenne Rhea6 years ago in Humans
A Book of Names
“A concerned citizen just donated twenty-thousand dollars in cash to my effort to recover my Hosaurus. In turn, I’m offering all of it as a reward for its safe return,” Dillard McTeil told the press.
By Skyler Saunders6 years ago in Humans
The Iron Key
Tom contemplated the crumpled five-dollar bill in his hand, weighing its true Saturday-afternoon value carefully. It wasn’t much to make his trip to the Westsider used-bookstore a great one, but he figured that an hour looking through the shelves should get him something worth reading. With the school holidays not yet over, and the New York weather managing to be not too hot, it was a perfect day for sitting in Central Park with a good adventure novel, or maybe a travel-book. Either way it was going to be fun finding out, and the five-dollar limit seemed more of an interesting challenge than a limitation.
By Erl Johnston6 years ago in Humans
Nina lights a candle
Nina followed the toll of the church bell all the way to the heavy iron-latticed doors at the top of the church steps. Each bell toll laying down the soundtrack to her uneasiness. It wasn’t a conscious decision to walk into the church, it was more steps guided by her uneasy, sad subconscious looking for peace and some meaning to the last five difficult hours of her life.
By Anna Dimitrakopoulos6 years ago in Humans
George, The Little Black Book
Perhaps I should not have, but it just sat there, lonely. I picked it up, not of my own volition, really, just because it didn’t seem right to leave it there, new, unused, neglected, abandoned. And now that it was in my hands, what should I do with it? Just open the cover, find the name and return it to its owner. But inside the cover, blank pages gave silent witness to its newness.
By Chris Wildgen6 years ago in Humans
Sunset and Sunrise
She opened the journal, its black leather cover roughened by age, pages worn and thin. She skimmed through it once more, desperately looking for its secrets.
By Ruby Heart6 years ago in Humans