Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Families.
ALEXIS
Alexis always knew today would come. She ran around the house looking for her purse as she grabbed for her wrap-around pants and loosely fit blouse. Some might say she dressed to open, and casual but Alexis was a free spirit. God only knows she had spent enough of her life confined. Running out of her apartment, which was a large country cottage that once used to be the towns maternity house. She was on her way to the hospital. Running across the street to the steps she stopped. Standing at the door she closed her eyes. With great anticipation she could not wait another moment. She reached out to open the door. She walked the hall of the hospital so many times. But for some reason today her feet could not seem to find their way. So many memories, and now she is coming out the other side. She was so overwhelmed! So deep in her thoughts, Alexis was unaware of the man speaking to her. “Do you need some help? You appear to be lost.” Lost! Now that was funny! If anyone knew this hospital, it was certainly her. Looking up barely taking notice, she said, “excuse me.” This stranger had taken hold of her arm. Where he touched her, the skin was burning. Alexis pulled back, as if this strange man was invading her space. “I am a student here I have come to get my final grade.” You have been interning at this hospital? “Yes, and tonight I will be graduating.” “Excuse me” Alexis muttered, and she found herself running down the hall. Alexis wondered why she felt such an urgency, as to run from this stranger. Feeling bothered by his touch. It burned her right through her skin until every nerve and fiber in her body was on edge. He probably thought she was quite rude running off.
By Julie Hanft5 years ago in Families
Moleskine and Jam
Carla had scoured every stationary shop in Biars-sur-Cère for the simple yet durable pocket notebook she had come to rely upon in her almost decade of literary prowess: a 9x14 cm. dotted hard cover easily stowable at a moment’s notice into her grandfather’s dilapidated Italian leather messenger bag she refused to replace despite years of judgmental eyes.
By ANITA RACHELLE5 years ago in Families
A Mother-Daughter Bond
Plink, plink, plink. The silence in the room is cut by the constantly drip of water from the ceiling. If I listen close enough, I can match the rhythm of my breathing to the sound. The water, like everything in this house, is a result of neglect.
By Madison Bishop5 years ago in Families
One Last Day
“He’s just out there…waiting for you. He knows what is going to happen, he knows this is goodbye for both of you.” Her heart stuttered, stalled, then started pounding a hard unforgiving rhythm. This all started with a letter…no, this all started with death…but that wasn’t entirely true either…this all started with love…
By Jennifer Renee5 years ago in Families
The House of Wonders
Most of my childhood memories aren't clear. I couldn't even tell you how old I was that day, though I would guess five or six. And I can’t recall how we got there; if Mother had purchased that old Pontiac yet, or if we’d taken the bus. But from the moment we stepped onto the property, my memory is alive. I am there, fully, counting the bricks of the walkway as I place my feet squarely inside of them, Mother at my side guiding me briskly towards the emerald green front door. I shifted my gaze upwards as we neared the steps, absorbing the enormity of the structure, feeling diminished in comparison.
By Emily Merz5 years ago in Families
Ruby Rift
We came into the world together, knowing we would depart it alone as we grew older and understood we were two and not one. We were born an hour apart, but a day and a month separated our timelines. I arrived on the last day of April, she on the first day of May. We were named for our respective months; identical in image, contrasted in idea.
By M.A.L. Pittman5 years ago in Families
The Beginning at the End
I laid on the bed, eyes closed, clutching my mother’s favorite scarf. I had sprayed it with her perfume and was daydreaming of laying beside her, chatting as we always had. The cream and blue floral curtains allowed a thin sunbeam to reach my face. I felt a brief moment of peace.
By Brandi Johnson5 years ago in Families
Another Chance
Part of me wishes I could go back as the person I am today, and stop what happened from ever happening in the first place. Although then I wouldn’t be sitting here writing this story at all, I’d likely have remained the same person I once was. I guess everyone was right about the whole hindsight thing after all.
By Sierra Mann5 years ago in Families
HEALTHY, WEALTHY, AND WISE
Frank and his wife, Miranda are in their late 60’s, living on their meager retirement pensions and government subsidies. Frank goes out for his daily walk after having a major heart attack in his 50’s without missing a day. While he takes his walk around their large energetic town, Frank likes to collect aluminum cans. The town’s people have become so accustom to Frank’s can collecting that many just set the bags of cans on the curb for his walk. When Frank returns home from his walks, he puts the aluminum cans in his classic Oldsmobile Coupe, changes out of his walking sneakers for his relaxed loafers, drives over to the next town to recycle the aluminum cans and collect the money for each can recycled. Miranda and the rest of the town’s people do not really pay attention to the money that he collects for their aluminum cans but feel rather relieved that they, themselves do not have to make the unnecessary and out of the way trip to the recycling center. To most people, the cans are just trash so they discard them but for Frank, it keeps him walking and he has a little extra pocket money. Once he has turned in his days collection of cans, Frank takes out his trusty little black book, writes the date in one column, number of cans that he turned in for recycling in another column and in the last column he writes the amount of money that he received. Only Frank knows about this little black book, that he keeps in his glovebox of his classic car.
By Jocelyn Wheeler5 years ago in Families
Book of Inspiration
Everything was dead around me. The tree branches loomed in the sky, bare, like skeleton fingers stretching out searching for something to grab hold of. My boots crunched in the snow as I climbed the ancient steps up the hill where my ancestors were buried. I had never met them, but their final resting place, a family plot dating back to the 1800’s, always seemed to bring me peace. I would come here when I was younger to get away from the world, but this place no longer held that same appeal. Now, this place where I once drew solace served as a bitter reminder of how cruel the world could be.
By Cari Scalise5 years ago in Families
The Gift From Beyond
My uncle Bentley was a kind and gentle man. Bentley Buxton, apparently my grandfather loved expensive cars. I remember my uncle as a quiet and contented man the few times he came to visit when I was younger. My mother often said that when she was young, he would sit with her and patiently listen to her problems after she had a difficult day and he always made her feel better just for the listening. They had not seen each other in quite some time so when we got news of his death it was an understandable shock. He didn’t have any family of his own and he left everything to my mom. Today was the day that we were to go to his house to organize it’s final sale and go through his things so that mom could keep what she wanted and arrange for the rest of it to be either sold or given away. She asked me to come along to lend a hand and more than likely some emotional support as I am sure she knew it was going to be difficult for her. He was her only sibling and now it was just her. Her parents long gone now, she was what some might consider an orphan. I could tell that this was weighing heavily on her. So we each packed a bag and jumped in the car and started on the three-day journey to the other side of the country where my uncle had lived.
By Peter Wright5 years ago in Families
