Latest Stories

Most recently published stories in Families.

As fate would have it
Her fingers curled around the cigarette butt, and although she tried desperately, she could not quell her shaking hand. The rain fell unevenly through the thick canopy of trees, droplets absorbed by the mossy blanket beneath her feet. She inhaled, drawing cigarette smoke through her teeth and filling her lungs, while savoring the deep earthy scent created from the damp greenery.
By Starshine5 years ago in Families
Birdy
“Don’t tell anyone Lilly.” “Why, gramma?” “Because it’s our little secret, that’s why.” My late grandmother Birdy left me some of her most valued treasures. Her round green silk hat box she bought in Japan was full of her favorite trinkets. I also kept some of her antique furniture with her items still in them in my garage. I didn’t have the room for them but I couldn’t give them away. I kept thinking that one day I would have a special place for them.
By GINA NEMO5 years ago in Families
The Little Black Book
The Little Black Book Bethany Williams That damn black book. He corrected himself, that darn black book. Even with his grandma dead and buried, standing in her house, he felt the hair stand up on the back of his neck. She always had a newspaper ready to whack him and his brothers with—for cussing, for being too noisy, too dirty, too alive. And later she would smile and point to it. Her little black notebook. She was always writing in it. For twenty-eight years Alan had watched her. She would point to it and say, “Someday this will be yours, Alan. Someday you’ll understand everything” And he would say, “Yes, Grandma Baker.” Never Granny or Gran or Maw-Maw. She was always Grandma Baker to her grandchildren.
By Bethany Williams5 years ago in Families
Thank you Dad
This is a story of a very rich person and billionaire almost trillionaire mogul. His name was Anthony, Anthony Ohaus. He started his empire over 60 plus years ago when he was in his late 20’s, early 30’s. He started building his fortune from a gift of cash given to him by his well off father. He didn’t want to take the gift as he had something against his father due to him not being their for him his entire life, as he put work first always. This effected him emotionally.
By Alfred Cosme5 years ago in Families
Wynter Day
Wynter Day Is her name. After all, she was born on a winter day and her mother could not resist the irony by naming her Wynter Day as she has a wonderful sense of humor. Although they were from the Caribbean, Wynter's mother, Alesha, was born in Jamaica and expected to give birth in warm, sunny Jamaica as well. However, fate had a different plan and Alesha gave birth in the middle of winter in Brooklyn at Aunt Flo's house.
By Simone Hardy 5 years ago in Families
Problem Solved
Tim eased himself into the wicker chair and placed a black notebook on the matching table next to him. The porch looked out to the quiet late afternoon scene, idyllic and peaceful. The gentle symphony of insects humming danced in an out of the wind. The sun sank lower on the horizon and the breeze ruffled the pages of the open notebook resting in Tim’s left hand. The book was old, but still in good shape, and each page bore the evidence of a problem solved. Tim ran his fingers across the ivory-colored pages, the rounded corners curving inward after all the years together.
By Aimee Jamison5 years ago in Families
Better Days
The neon pizza sign on the corner of 1st and Lafayette flashed through the window in my small second-story apartment. The relentless wind of the city whistled through the cracks in the sill. A tiny soul that occupied all of my heart slept one room over at the base of my bed in the same crib I slumbered in 25 years ago.
By Spencer K. Prescott5 years ago in Families
The Megaball Slip
23, 32, 61, 53, 68, 19 5, 14, 21, 66, 27, 10 41, 56, 63, 12, 59, 22 64, 3, 45, 11, 47, 20 17, 36, 62, 29, 8, 3 Antonio jotted the numbers swiftly down onto the next fresh, blank page of his small, black notebook which was gifted to him by his AP English literature teacher. He befriended his teacher, Mr. Robertson, and bonded with him over his love & passion towards writing. Mr. Robertson gave Antonio the notebook at the end of class one day, as a little surprise, since earlier that week he admitted how he developed a habit of writing everything on his phone, for which he jokingly scolded him for.
By Noah Madrigal5 years ago in Families
Moleskine's Grand Challenge
I stared at the last question on the test, searching my head for the answer. If I get this right, I will move on to the next round of Moleskine's Grand Challenge!
By Melanie Rose5 years ago in Families
Up and Down Ladders
Jacob often thought that all painters were a little odd just like his uncle Moses was. The typical sort of lonely fellow who never married yet worked very hard and never seemed to spend a dime from it. He was from a time and place where maybe it was easier to settle down alone than to do anything else. Moses was quiet and tall, he had a grave face and when seen about the town Jacob’s friends would say he creeped them out. As far as Jacob saw it, his uncle was generous and warm, come Christmas and birthdays a card would always come to him or his siblings with at least a ten pound note taped to the top. Beyond these polite gestures and the odd question about school, Moses was unknowable to his nephews and nieces, in fact many people would have said something similar. He had a few friends from playing bowls but they never seemed particularly close, he was well liked by the wider family but rarely invited for dinner. He lived with Jacob’s grandma, his mother, up until she died and he solely inherited the family home, causing small but not insignificant tension throughout the wider family. This hardly mattered to the grandchildren or Moses’ brothers and sisters, it would always be grandma’s house to them.
By Caleb Scott5 years ago in Families
Scratch
Dermot helped his mother onto the bus by her elbow. She was small now, sharp and firm like a porcelain doll. In her old age, she had shrunk to the size of a child, her back hunching over; the talon of a bird of prey.
By R Reid5 years ago in Families
My Mother's Gift
Church bells ring in the distance; the noise oddly comforting. I had never been one for religion – I’d taken after my father in that sense. My mother, however, was a firm believer until the end of her life. Her final wishes insisted on her funeral being as full of religious love as possible. Last week I fulfilled her wish.
By Stephi5 years ago in Families