literature
Whether written centuries ago or just last year, literary couples show that love is timeless.
The Great Peach Dust
The light has a taunting, silver hue. I woke up vexed, a static in my head. I stretch, taking time to pursue the cause of discontent. I head to the fridge for a glass of milk. The door suctions shut, and I glare at the reason. Richie, I love you, and I know you love me. But I need to do this. Goodbye.
By Sophia Boian6 years ago in Humans
The Weeping Willow
July 1, 2009 T-Pain is heard playing on the speaker system as Janette works tirelessly serving tables. She’s pulled another double so she can save up enough money to start her own branding business, but this penny pinching is putting her in a bind.
By Tanaya Vang6 years ago in Humans
Eight years of Love
The Shatters are one of the most influential people in the world. The family consists of the CEO Ashton Shatters, His wife, Amanda Shatter, and their young child named Lilly. That’s what the public knows about them anyway, little did they know Mr. Shatters had another child and wife before his new family. The first wife died of illness and the child was kept in a separate house far from the publics’ eye or her fathers eyes. She was left all alone, with no name, no family, just a house to live in; she learns how to cook, to clean to survive. At the age of ten, she was in the woods when she came across a boy around her age, maybe older, he had nice ginger hair and freckles from head to toe. The boy happens to see the girl, after that he came back every day; his name was Liam and they would play together, he even gave her a name. Willow, that’s the name she was given, nothing made her happier than to have a name and a friend. Months go by and they would play together. One day, Liam came over in a rush telling Willow to keep something of his incase of emergencies; A big bag filled with paper Willow had never seen, but of course, she agreed. Liam never came back, Willow waited, a week, a month, years, Willow became impatient after she turned seventeen, she just wanted Liam back. Willow decided she would look in the bag for clues, The paper was all she could see, throwing it out of the bag Willow finally found a book! She was so happy. Maybe this will help me find Liam before she could open it; there was a note. “To the Love of my Life, Willow. If you are reading this, I am being forced back to the city to live with my father. He is not a nice man until I know it is safe, I want you to stay as far away from me as possible. I will find you when the moment is right, just wait for me, my love.” Willows eyes never went back to normal after that night or week, or month. She felt like Liam would never return, summer left and winter was fast approaching, with little to nothing to eat Willow rushed to stock up on supplies. Winter came like usual but this time it didn't leave, Willow didn't have enough time to gather food for this winter, She had no wood to burn, She was alone and she only felt the darkness. Willow watched as her fingers could not move, or her legs, she just laid there praying for someone to find her body at least. Willow wondered if Liam remembered her? Or if he would ever come for her? It didn’t matter anymore, Willow thought, she could not even move, she was going to sleep. The darkness had taken over and willow unconsciously huddled into a ball for warmth, little did she know the man in front of her was the one she has been waiting years for.
By Yuna Anderson 6 years ago in Humans
And For What Price?
Julius sat on the park bench staring at nothing in particular. It was as though he were looking into the distance; but he hadn’t the luxury in this city, everywhere you looked were brutalist deco-ish buildings scraping the sky. A life with a view constantly obstructed, literally and figuratively. He was stuck in more ways than one, both to this bench and in his path of life. Julius knew there was something more out there than what we see physically, but what? He didn’t even know where to begin, what questions to even ask. It was always a shaky subject, and today shook his world enough to push him over that curb and start asking a better question. What else is out there? He didn’t simply wonder what was beyond the George Washington Bridge any longer, but who engineered it, and what gave them the drive to do so? What fed that person’s soul?
By Taylor Long6 years ago in Humans
Sultana
Kimi sat in the laundromat and turned her eyes away from the television screen that interrupted their regularly scheduled programming to announce the death of a prominent Arabian ruler. She didn’t want to be bothered with other peoples’ grief. She had plenty of her own at the ripe age of 31. LIfe just seemed to happen to her - no rhyme or reason, just disappointment and the stubbornness to keep going until it was over. She counted the change from the pocket of her worn jeans once again, debating whether to use the dryer or let the clothes air dry by hanging around the room she rented at the motel. $65 a night and she was already behind payments by 8 weeks. The people there were kind and understanding, but she knew business people don’t stay like that for long. This was not her first motel. It felt like a luxury to even have her clothes clean. Then again, what good would $1.75 do except a meal that would last only one day? How long can someone live on a cheeseburger and fries, minus the soda? She was pulled from her thoughts as someone tugged on her jacket. “ ‘Scuse me, miss.” A girl, about 17 years old managed to claim the seat next to her without her notice. “Can you spare some change? I ain’t eat since 2 days ago.” The girl’s brown eyes looked tired and void of hope - judged way too many times to try to explain anymore, rejected way too much to expect anything good, yet, she tried again. Kimi could almost see her reflection in them. Seems the decision was made for her. The girl walked away and wet clothes were packed into plastic bags to be hung around the motel room 2 blocks away.
By A Rose Williams6 years ago in Humans
Forgotten Dreams
The bed sheets formed a labyrinth around Lexi’s legs, constricting her movement, as she gasped awake. She grasped at what little bit of reality she could reach, digging her nails into her thigh with enough strength to almost draw blood. The gesture was meant to be grounding, but did little to ease the frustration she felt, as the terrifyingly vivid experience she had just moments ago was already fleeting. She woke for the 37th night in a row with nothing but a faint recollection of the essence of her dreams. It felt as if each night she was abducted, taught the secrets of the universe, and wiped off her memory shortly before her return. She couldn’t abandon the thought that she was supposed to remember something. That somehow, her life hinged on understanding a journey she could not recall, and that absolutely devastated her ability to function during her waking hours.
By Sasha Chernyshova6 years ago in Humans
