literature
Whether written centuries ago or just last year, literary couples show that love is timeless.
Second Chances
Prologue “There’s Orion,” he whispered into my ear as we gazed up at the stars. My eyes searched the sky for a trace of something I’d never understand. I never cared much for astronomy, but I wouldn’t dare tell him that. All I genuinely cared about on these cold winter nights was snuggling up next to him on the bed of his pickup truck, as he held me tightly. “I see it,” I replied softly, as I glanced in his direction, engraving in my mind every inch of his beauty. He broke my gaze, as I looked away, tears welling in the corners of my eyes. I had been dreading this day for months; this would be last day I would be able to look into his baby blue eyes for two years.
By Brittany Brown6 years ago in Humans
The Price
Sleep would not come to Isabelle that night. No matter how she lay, her bones ached against the hard, cabin floor after working so hard all day. She looked across the room at her husband, Seth, sleeping comfortably, albeit drunkenly, in their bed . . . a bed she couldn’t bring herself to share since she had come back home after seven years—years that she had thought her husband dead from the hand of privateers. She had been taught since she was a little girl that marriage was until death, no matter what. Isabelle groaned within as she tossed thoughts around in her head, remembering their joyful marriage and the birth of their twin girls . . . that is, until the privateers had burst into their cabin that day seven years ago and stolen their happiness.
By Sheila R Boyd6 years ago in Humans
The Englishman's Housekeeper (part 1)
IT would not be the first time for Jessamine Hill to have a stranger appear on her doorstep wishing to say hello and often, also requesting for an autograph. The stranger could be one individual or a small group of strangers, like how fans fancied seeing the person they admired in the flesh.
By Josephine Crispin6 years ago in Humans
Sleep is for the Weak
I lay there in his stinking bed, wishing I could wash being dead off me and wondering where I lived. I could hear him running the shower, and for a long minute I ached to be the one standing under it and scrubbing away all traces of the morgue and these itchy, reeking sheets. I almost moved to go and say something to him, but I didn't want to have to fumble through another conversation, and I didn't want to be naked in his flat while he was here either.
By L.C. Schäfer6 years ago in Humans
The Record of Lives
He stood immobile in the middle of the busy city sidewalk. People walked past him, seeming to narrowly avoid colliding with him, but failing to take any notice of his presence. It was a small bubble of quiet in a city of noise, for while the sounds reached him physically, he paid no mind to them. They were trivialities to his kind, just things that existed but had no consequences for him. So he continued to stand their amidst the cacophony, unaware of anything except the one thing he was here for.
By Scaylen Renvac6 years ago in Humans
Follow Me
Follow Me By Britney Behanna David lived in a small town his whole life, he walked the trail over the railroad tracks behind his home frequently. Today as he was beginning to take his usual walk, he was crossing the tracks and seen something unusual sticking out of the rocks and dirt, it glimmered and called to him. At first he was skeptical but went for it anyways. He picked up the object, it was a little black notebook, dusty on the outside but the ring that bound the pages is what caught his eye. David began to open the book, it contained a story of riches. He was puzzled at first but began to read, the lettering jumped from the pages under his skin, goosebumps all over, it was directions, but to what?
By Britney Behanna6 years ago in Humans
Magic Numbers
Angela sits on her usual seat on the train. She sits there every day on her journey to her city job, at the back of the carriage, where, usually, nobody disturbs her. Angela enjoys these daily moments of peace before arriving at the hospital, where she will be on her feet all day long, tending to those who are ill and some who just think they are ill. Sometimes it is a rewarding profession, but mostly it seems like a thankless task. Yet she has always wanted to work in this industry. Caring just seems to come naturally to her.
By Gillian Kirkbride6 years ago in Humans
