literature
Whether written centuries ago or just last year, literary couples show that love is timeless.
The Doc Martens
It was the early 1990s. I was in my twenties and not exactly miserable, but not happy either. My world was changing too fast, and the change was precipitated by too much loss for such a young heart. My days were full of routines that felt alien to who I thought I wanted to be, but I didn’t know how to become anyone else or fight the inertia. Get up, go to work, go to night classes at the local City College, after class maybe get a drink with friends, but more often go home and watch television and then bed. That is if no one was in the hospital; otherwise, after work, I would head to the hospital to sit with whichever ailing loved one it was; my uncle (AIDS), my father (AIDS), my best friend (brain aneurism), my aunt (another surgery). Or on the weekend, maybe there was another funeral or memorial to go to or a family friend who needed comfort and company. It was the 1990s, and death was practically de regueur.
By Laylah Muran de Assereto6 years ago in Humans
Faded Print
I started working with Mrs. Edmunds as a favor to a neighbor that was working as a private duty nurse and could not do both jobs. Mrs. Edmunds didn't need a nurse really, she was actually in very good shape and health for a woman in her 90s. Octavia Claire Edmunds was a wealthy widow that did not have family in the area and they didn't seem too eager to ensure if their stepmother/step-grandmother was fairing well.
By Nykia Threlkeld6 years ago in Humans
Wet Socks
It was the lack of shoes that had paved the path of most of her life. Not that she hated shoes, quite to the contrary, but rather just not wearing them seemed to be the thread that one could follow through the majority of her life. Not quite as dramatic as the guy who builds homes in his bare feet, risking stubs and mud on the job site. And not like Tammy Duckworth whose prosthetics are their own special kind of shoes. Or certainly not a dramatic as Simone Biles whose tiny, naked feet launch her into the stratosphere while she flips and spins to her hearts content.
By Susanne Williams6 years ago in Humans
The Little Black Book
RINGGGGGG!! The alarm on my phone blares and I immediately halt my work to figure out what’s going on. I finally reach my phone to read the reminder going across my screen and, the realization hits me like a ton of bricks. I’m supposed to have brunch with the girls in an hour! I rescheduled so many times for work already. I have to go. I sprint to my closet; they instructed me to dress up a bit. They specifically said, “not your normal leggings, t-shirt, and comfy non-slip sneakers.”
By Victoria Johnson6 years ago in Humans
Lost
It had only been five minutes since she sat down, and she had already drank half of her smoothie. The room is quiet, besides the ticks from her keyboard and the quiet murmurs from the others in the library. She stops to rub her face, and huffs a sign. She finally places her head in her hand.
By Cheyenne Wood6 years ago in Humans
Little Black Book
I remember the first time I saw them. I was in the front window booth of the coffee shop, cleaning off the table from my last customers. Anybody who caught a glimpse of them could tell they were in love. He chased her until he could grab her from the back and swung her around a bit as she let out a soft scream accompanied by laughter. Watching them interact with each other made me feel as though I was watching a live filming of one of the greatest love stories ever told. Almost every day around five in the afternoon, I would see them pull up in his black 1967 Convertible Mustang. He was always such a gentleman. He would park the car and immediately run to the passenger side to ensure that she would never touch the car door. And she was such a lady; she would sit there until he came around to open it. They would then head up the hill hand in hand until they disappeared under the long wispy arches of the willow tree branches. Without fail, I would get stuck in a trance as I watched their every move until the moment any trace of them was impossible to see. Even after I could no longer see them, I would gaze in their direction for another 10 minutes recreating the tale of their love story. I realized I was beginning to become a bit obsessed with them. I would practically plan my break around their arrival to make sure I didn’t miss them. I would try my best not to allow anyone to sit within my perfect view of them if it would interfere with the time of their arrival. Then one day, I saw him arrive alone. It felt weird not seeing them together. I almost felt as though I was cheating on them by watching him there without her. He didn’t stay very long. He disappeared into the trees and came back to his car about 30 mins later. About an hour passed by and then I saw her. She rode up on a white and blue moped and then she too disappeared toward the willow tree. She stayed about the same amount of time as he did and then she got on her bike and rode off. When they were together, I could effortlessly put together an exciting tale of what they were doing beyond that willow tree, but with them apart, I found it much more challenging.
By I Will Use My Words6 years ago in Humans
That Crazy Old Man
Sarah groaned as she saw the call light for room 215. She had just been in there, trying to soothe Albert Johnson, who insisted his car had been stolen. She tried to hide her irritation as she entered his room. The old man was gazing out the window, which faced the parking lot. "Oh great," she thought. "Stolen car part two."
By Dawn Kline6 years ago in Humans
What She Lost
Tessa struggled to open her eyes. She blinked as she focused on the unfamiliar room. Panic began to surge in her throat and every nerve in her body hummed anxiously. She pushed back the heavy gray comforter and glanced at the clock: 7:00am. Tessa felt a pang of familiarity that disintegrated a moment after she had grasped it.
By Liana Nemiroff6 years ago in Humans
The Benefactor
Aurelia ‘Ory’ Brooks, 32, was working as a waitress at Hammond’s Caribbean Café in East Harlem for five years. Friendly, charming, helpful, confident were the words of her customers, most of whom would confirm her good looks, disarming smile, proactiveness and social skills as her trademarks. She was the first to open up shop and the last to leave. She once talked an armed burglar from robbing the restaurant.
By Obi Anyanwu6 years ago in Humans
And Then, It Happened
Rachael left and I ran upstairs. Crystal was right behind me with a million and one questions. She wanted to know everything. My response was to say nothing. I was digging through all of my things without even thinking. I started by looking through my work bag, I usually put it in there. I never left the house without it. Clothes were flying across the room as I was trying to get words out. “First, (throwing another armful of clothes) I noticed that none of it made sense. Then, ( there goes my headphones and my wallet) When I started looking up dates there was nothing.” Crystal was standing in the doorway looking even more puzzled now than she had been downstairs.
By Aleah Peplinski6 years ago in Humans
