literature
Whether written centuries ago or just last year, literary couples show that love is timeless.
Fielding's Choice
Fielding's Choice The office faced north and in the good winter light, Marshall Fielding studied a photograph mounted on the wall behind the desk. The picture depicted a starving, naked boy who had leaned forward on his haunches while behind him a vulture squatted on the ground waiting for him to die.
By Luke Jon Isbrecht6 years ago in Humans
Adam's Magic Notebook
Adam wakes from a very strange dream with another hangover. Pulling soft blankets around him, rolling himself into a protective burrito, he buries his face remembering how much he drank last night. "Drink some water, you dehydrated cucumber" — the meme flashes through his head. He wants to obey, but that means getting up, and he doesn't want to do that. He doesn't want to do anything, if he's being honest.
By @choosethesmiles6 years ago in Humans
Little Black Book
Peter finished up with the last coat of paint, looks at the city skyline from the living room bay windows. ‘Worked on this job for a few weeks gonna miss that view. Must be nice to come home to view like this.” He thought. Peter has been working on this job for over a month. Finally putting the finishing touches. The apartment once belonged to a spiritualist/ Archeologist. He died, leaving most of his things to the nearby museum. The rest went to goodwill or the dump. He cleaned up and got ready to go home. His boss asked “ Hey Peter could you do one more thing for me before you go?” Peter hesitant but nodded yes. “Thanks bud, there’s a box of old books that needs to go down to the basement, set that to the side near the compacter” Peter gathers his things and picks up the fairly heavy box. Says good night and heads to the elevator. He gets to the basement places the box down next to a few other boxes that look like its from the same apartment. “Wonder why they’re getting rid of these books. Seems like a waste.” Peter shrugs and starts to walk toward the door. But he stops. Something grabs his attention. In one of the other boxes he notices a little black book. He picks it up flips through the pages, Blank. He looks around and thinks “well I mean they are just going to destroy it anyway”, places the book in his bag and heads out of the dank basement.
By Elizabeth Loibl6 years ago in Humans
The Medium Through Which I Saw Her
I don't recall truly how I began. At some point, I just was. There became such thing as 'me' and 'I' in an explosion of awareness of myself and my beingness. But this grand awareness happened because I was noticed by her. She was quite small compared to me and she had no trouble moving. I, on the other hand, could only be put in motion when I'd politely ask the warm breeze to move me. And even then, my draping leaves would be the only thing moving and the greater part of me remained motionless.
By Dream Silas6 years ago in Humans
A New Life
My hands were shaking when I turned the keys to the front door. All of my hopes and dreams were riding on this very moment. I had every penny of my savings on this house at auction to start my flipping company. I was handy and loved repurposing something old and making it beautiful once again. This house held all of my dreams and my future. I had stomached my mindless accounting job for years to be able to save enough to make this dream purchase possible.
By Ashley Lauren A6 years ago in Humans
Voice of Reason
I am such a broken, twisted, sickened, little creature. I stare at the hollow eyes reflecting before me. Deep maroon, blue, and purple splotches litter the surface of my epidermis. Oh, how so tender they are... I wince in great pain. Bittersweet it is, like molasses coated ink. The mark of love swells on the surface with inflammation deep beneath. I have come to believe in broken bones and scars. Hollow eyes and empty lies. Easy highs and grey skies. It is only now that I find salvation writing in the pages of my little black notebook. There is a subtle, sweet release with every syllable. Agony melds with every phrase. Swirling the lines of misery into a casket of hope that encases my soul with the promise of better days. Not once did I tremble, not once did my loyalty waver. For my kingdom stood tall in sight. No transgression casted, no broken bone received, nor any blood lost could cull the love I gifted for my king. It is now as I reflect on the six long years a pain. I have found myself rising above to an ethereal plane far above this existence. It is here I reminisce on the events that transpired my enlightenment.
By Misty Atchison6 years ago in Humans
The Art Session
The Art Session Gavin is determined to keep track of everything from now on. He feels that the little black book he received from Ellen is just the job. What happened and how did he end up in this place? Time is slipping by and he is none the wiser.
By Markus Thonett6 years ago in Humans
All Thats Left
It was a cold but beautiful day outside, as I went to the park closet to workfor lunch, that I liked to do on days like this. It was a small park that offered a few benches to sit, but was rarely used, like some hidden oasis in the desert that is the city. There was one bench I liked that faced the small pond that was half encircled by various trees, which lend to the feeling of peace within the park. It was a late lunch, and the sun hung lower than the trees this day, casting golden streamers through the branches. The gleaming bands of sunlight hit the water and exploded into countless tiny, gilded sparks that danced across the slightly moving waters surface.
By Arjen Hulstra6 years ago in Humans
