Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Families.
Now and Then
Doris overheated a cup of leftover coffee in her rush to get to the nine-o-six on time. It would be a long ride into the city and she did not like running for a train. Running was the folly of youth. A folly she had long ago used up. Now as she sat in the tightness of a window seat on the train, working hard not to make eye contact with the commuters across from her, she felt the slight graininess of the coffee burn on the roof of her mouth. She ran her tongue over the spot that was sore, did it again and again, and reminded herself that she was the reason for this slight pain. She reminded herself that this small incident was a mere memory, not a catastrophe waiting to happen.
By Janice Maves5 years ago in Families
One Last Time
Dappled sunlight reflected through the coloured glass panels of the conservatory. Books sat, piled in impossibly high mounds. Papers were strewn haphazardly about, a single clean path set out between the door and my Aunt’s writing desk. Nothing here seemed out of place, nothing would have told the truth.
By Erin A. Sayers5 years ago in Families
Notebook of solace
I’m laying down in bed wondering when she’s going to come into my room. Right now, she’s smoking, sniffing, and drinking, she’s so high she’s stomping as if she can’t see where the ground stops. When she does finally come in, she doesn’t hit me, she never has, instead she says “Kahyler don’t be afraid to dream above what you see on the streets”. I said “yes mam” because momma don’t like to feel unheard, so I listened as she went on and on about how the streets offer you no love. I eventually began dosing off waking up occasionally to say, “yes mam”.
By Zin'nia Owens5 years ago in Families
Cost of Living
Whoever gave them rich-sounding car names in the Bealy family was a fool. Middle sister, Alexus, shook her head as she stared at the paperwork to do the tax return for her baby sister, Mercedes. The papers piled on her modest home office desk from the night before mocked her by the aging computer. Did they even make this brand anymore?
By Jeanette W Smith5 years ago in Families
The Disabled Miracle
Sitting in the valet area of the hospital on a cold morning, I began pondering on the events of this past six months that led up to this day. Starting with the night my wife and I were awaken by the cry of my eight year old son, Bryant. We jumped out of bed and rushed to find him fallen in the hallway.
By Terrin Stafford5 years ago in Families
Butterfly Key
On a warm spring day, a baby girl was born at a local hospital in Houston, Texas, to a lovely couple, Jack and Amber. They named the baby, Michelle. Soon the couple went home with their beautiful little girl. The parents loved and nurtured her. They were a close-knit family. After several weeks, Jack returned to work as a high school geometry teacher. Amber, however, did not return to her job as a childcare worker at a local daycare facility. Both parents agreed that she should stay at home with their little girl for a few years.
By DELON DELAFOSSE5 years ago in Families
My Small Black Notebook
Sir Elliot Winthorp III wrote all of his poems in a small black notebook. It was an old and romantic habit that he had developed as a young man when he was studying law at Cambridge. He liked the texture of the rigid marbled cover against his fingertips; and the way the pages absorbed the ink from his Montblanc Meisterstück Hommage á W.A Mozart platinum-coated fountainpen adorned with a hand-crafted 18K solid gold nib. The stark juxtaposition between the cheap notebook and the luxurious masterpiece fountainpen gave Elliot a giddy feeling of insouciant adventure – which, in turn, he was certain, helped him write his beloved poetry.
By MICHAEL PAARUP5 years ago in Families
