Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Families.
One Last Adventure Together
Sitting in my husband’s armchair, I flip through another photo album. Stacks of them sit by my swollen feet. Our life together is summarized in the sum of these albums. Unfortunately, all good things come to an end. I close the last album.
By Wesley Lai5 years ago in Families
Imagine a Garden
Imagine a Garden When I was a little boy our garden was a jungle. Father worked very hard to try and make it a paradise for us. He told us that there were going to be water features, greens to play ball, a labyrinth, a big swing and beautiful flowers all year around. We enjoyed listening to Father dreaming it all out loud for us. And, although we quite liked the jungle as it was, we looked forward to the day when this dream of his would become a reality. Our father had responsibilities away from us and our garden, and as the garden was large and under siege from all sides by thorny brambles and stinging nettles, the passing time often undid a an entire season of his work in his periods absence. So we soon lost faith in the realisation of his dream.
By Markus Thonett5 years ago in Families
Last Words
“I’m so sorry…” Those three words, followed by the off click of the loudspeaker, bounced around the cabin as the tight gasps and random screams evolved into complete panic. Ephram, who had always considered himself a collected man, clenched his armrests so desperately he lost feeling in his fingers as he replayed the pilot’s final words.
By Katie McNeill5 years ago in Families
SOAR-R-R-R
AND THAT VERY day it rained. No, not the fine cold drizzle common for this time of year in late November, with the air chilled to a crisp and a mist so fine you can wave your hand through it and not feel wet. Today’s rain was different, and Bryan was aware of it the instant he cracked his eyes and squinted at the curtains. It was an all-out downpour moving swiftly, and strong. Big angry raindrops pushed by wind, splashed on rooftops, pavement, cars; slamming hard like pebbles against Bryan’s windowpanes as he lay listening to its noise. He knew today was going to be messy.
By Jyme Pride5 years ago in Families
Rainbows
The forest swallowed her up like a gulp of lemonade. It was a summer day, and her mouth felt the parch, but the taste of the day ahead filled her to the brim with dreams of reckless adventure and dauntless imagination that only exist for a mere season known as the age of thirteen. Ambition drove her to the hills, crunching through fallen leaves and feeling whimsical next to the hidden gems in the babbling wooded brook. Anything could happen here if she wanted it to, and anything could not happen here, too. She followed her normal dirt path and put her childish dreams on play as she passed the third line of trees and followed her heart into the wilderness’ abyss.
By Alyssa Victoria5 years ago in Families
The Inheritance of Marcus Thomas
The four siblings crowded into the small office of their father’s attorney. None of them looked at each other, each despised the other one. They had collected to see which of the four of them would inherit from their billionaire father.
By Sam H Arnold5 years ago in Families
Strangers
The table wobbled as Julia sat down, placing the large, beige ceramic mug on the table. Smoke from her latte drifted into the air, catching a ray of sun peeking through the coffee shop’s window. On a typical Tuesday, this would have made for the perfect Instagram photo. But today Julia was distracted.
By Rob Totaro5 years ago in Families
THE MIDNIGHT RIDE
THE MIDNIGHT RIDE Elijah smiled and watched his family sleeping in the flickering dim light of the candle on the table. Deep in thought, he wondered, was the box the answer to his family’s dreams and his dad’s prayers? A still small voice broke the silence to ask, “Elijah, why are you awake?” Elizabeth said, walking closer to him. Placing her hand on his shoulder, he kissed it and asked her to sit with him.
By Dollie E Abernathy-Mason5 years ago in Families
Golden Phrases and the Cosmic Grammarians
“He’s ready for a relationship – and you are a sinking ship.” I try not to laugh as I transcribe the words into my Moleskin. I don’t want the woman who said them or her friend to know I’m listening – even though what I’m doing can hardly be considered eavesdropping. I’m just sitting here, sipping my overpriced coffee and letting the world spin around me. They are the ones talking loudly enough for half the café to hear. But I don’t mind. Afterall, I come here every morning just to listen to people like them.
By S. Baer Lederman5 years ago in Families
A Grand Man
This particular Sunday morning I decided to take one last walk around the lake before my father would be free of his earthly body. It's best to come out around 5am to lessen the chance you'll see another live creature. It's not so bad running into a squirrel or two I suppose. Or to have an ever skittish coyote meet your gaze and make a quick decision to freeze then dart back to the bushes with purpose. I always feel guilt for disturbing them. It's their lake. The serenity of this massive body of water is always being confronted by the urban environment. The heavy gaze of downtowns massive buildings, the angst of the commuter, and the dirty and dense smog coming down wind from the other decaying city on this massive water mass that goes on and on. On that morning the clouds hung low, dull, and grey. Some would say oppressive but I would say comforting. A means to spend the day in bed but remain outside. As I sought comfort outdoors I knew today I had to leave my peace on this lake shore and go confront a singular and sharp pain. On this quiet day I knew I had to go to my fathers apartment for the last time. Two years ago he was given a finite amount of days to finish his journey on earth. Fast forward to two weeks ago he had three to four months. And every day the hospice nurse shortened that time dramatically. Your father has a month. Your father has a few weeks. A few days. Any day. Any hour. Any minute.
By Jay Williams5 years ago in Families
