literature
Whether written centuries ago or just last year, literary couples show that love is timeless.
How a lost little black book led to revealed wealth
Over numerous years, Kim’s books had been disappearing. Green books and read books, hard books and soft, books rigid in posture and embarrassingly stained, they all were drawn to some secret place that was not at hand to Kim. These losses included the history texts of his degree in history, the law texts from his degree in law, the clinical therapy texts from his attempted Masters degree, his draft thesis in another and many other collections of words, bound and digital, literary and semi-literary. If the school bookish items were largely discarded by Kim himself as an assurance against ever getting too close to the emotional drains which those subjects represented to him, others were simply and definitely purloined. His year book from the International School of Dempasar, his family tree and the computer within which it was stored and each and every address book he ever tried to put together, including a number of little black books.
By Budsy Huggys6 years ago in Humans
The Mysterious Man
She had been so engrossed in her book she didn’t realise her train carriage was empty. Strange for a Tuesday, she thought to herself. Megan looked down at her watch: 7:42 am. The train is usually rammed at this hour. Hmm. She went back to reading. Twenty minutes later, she closed her book and began to gather her things to get off the train—which meant stepping into the cold winter morning.
By Hannah Sassi6 years ago in Humans
Nightmares
Lightening struck and the ground shook, I was pacing in my small camper waiting for the storm to end. This nightmare night after night is haunting me, tonight during the storm it felt like my dreams are real. Every lightning shakes me to the core, the flash of lights flashback to the dream. I could feel my sweat clinging to my light pj’s, all I can see is the tiny ashes light at the end of my cigarette with every inhale. I can’t stop pacing.
By Leslie Strom6 years ago in Humans
The Black Little Notebook
It was a quiet evening, and Sero was in deep thought at family dinner. His brown, beachy curls are pulled back into a ponytail. His deep brown eyes hide behind a worn stocky pair of glasses as he stares at his plate, playing with his food. It is his 16th birthday today, and his mother made him his favorite meal: smoked roast pork, carrots and peas, potatoes with cheese, and fresh milk. But today, he is not feeling hungry. He had a strange dream last night, and he cannot stop thinking about it. Grandma noticed his perplexed face and asked him, "Are you okay, darling? What is troubling you this fine evening?" Sero looked at her and muttered: "I had a strange dream last night. I was out in the field, and I kept hearing someone call my name in a low, deep, but almost inaudible. It was almost like it came from within me." He paused and threw a big chunk of pork chop in his mouth. Then grandma said, "Who was calling you." Sero says, "I do not know. Each time I turned my head towards the voice, I saw this blue light that looked like a shiny object attached to a black book."
By Jackie Cross6 years ago in Humans
Lettuce Bacon Burger
"Overcast again, what's with this weather?" thought Kei as he navigated his bicycle through the droves of sedans and garbage trucks occupying the roads on his way to work at the paper store. "What gives? Did the whole world decide to move to the city at once?" Kei continued to consider this as he weaved past a woman, howling at her husband in front of a small bread shop on the corner of the intersection. He quickly managed to avoid trampling their small dog, in the process, losing hold of the brown paper bag carrying his meticulously, but thoughtfully, prepared lunch. "Dammit!!" he said, frustrated as the bag broke open and scattered over the sidewalk below. Turning back to see the damage, Kei saw the small dog, quite happily nibbling away at his delicately prepared meal, much to the amusement of the women he had just so narrowly avoided a collision with. "Well...I suppose I should grab something else on my way to work then...damn dog.." he muttered to himself as he continued on his way to the paper store. The sky ahead seemed even more overcast than before, there was a foreboding tension in the air.
By Edward W. DuClos6 years ago in Humans
Someone Like Lorenxo
1 Allison “SHIT!” I SWEAR OUT LOUD in annoyance when the back tire on my bike gets punctured. Trust it to happen now, just as I reach the foot of the steep hill. Now, I would not only have the exertion of walking up but would have to haul the bike along too. Could this get any worse?
By Ashley Zakrzewski6 years ago in Humans
Revenge
She woke up in the morning, and he had already gone to work, like every other time she had stayed there. He had always told her that he wanted to feel welcome in his home. As she started to get ready she couldn't help but to look around. She wondered for a moment why the place had so little things in it. Though he had told her that he was a minimalist, such an attractive quality she always thought. She wished that she could be more like that, be able to live with less stuff. Maybe he will rub off on me, she thought to herself. As she went to grab something to eat before leaving, she saw a black book on his desk. Something that she had never before. She went to it and thought about looking at it. He must have forgotten it, she thought. But knowing that it was wrong she walked away, she had no reason not to trust him, she thought. She grabbed something to eat and went about the rest of her day.
By Talara Nolan6 years ago in Humans
A Little Black Book
A Little Black Book The sledgehammer broke through the final panel of drywall sending bits of plaster and concrete flying. Lani removed her safety goggles to take a break before finishing for the evening. She gingerly picked her way across the hardwood floor trying to avoid debris. Picking up her water canister she took a deep drink of the still chilled water. Demolition was a tough process but she was used to it. Renovations were a part of her interior design business in New York. This, however, was a daunting project. Revamping a two hundred and twenty year old apartment was by far her biggest challenge. She knew that she was fortunate to have inherited this astonishing place from her grandmother. The location of the apartment in the Marais was perfect. She and her grandmother had always shared a special bond and much of the same taste. The apartment had been redone in nineteen ninety eight. It was overdue for an update. Lani felt obligated to preserve her grandmother's legacy.
By Karolyn Denson Landrieux6 years ago in Humans
O'Oide Làmhan
Born deaf, the old man, lived in silence and would draw my gaze by clicking his fingers and gesturing. I would watch his craggy hands form their tactile communication and create a solitary canvas through which he weaved his voice and brought a string of his being into the fabric of others. The sentience of these ideas entered into the mind with each symbol of this silent language imprinting itself to create a pattern that dried onto one’s consciousness and revealed a living philosophy that explicitly expressed the present as it truly is.
By Isaac Forsyth6 years ago in Humans
