Latest Stories

Most recently published stories in Families.

Rosa's Story
Life is redundant at times. That truth rarely fails me. I’m not sure if I keep missing the lessons; thus, the repetition, or if it’s just some monotonous cycle that continues to elude me. I prefer the latter, even if my mind knows the truth my heart won’t tell.
By J.Reneé5 years ago in Families
Amounting To
I guess she wasn’t old enough to be thinking about a will. 46 isn’t knocking on death’s door. 46 is dreading your 50th birthday, it’s a mid-life crisis. Dying at 46 means that at age 23, she was halfway through her life. I’ll be 23 in March.
By Kira Fennell5 years ago in Families
A Fresh Start
The deadline on the financial report her boss requested is dangerously creeping up on her. She probably (no, definitely) shouldn't have gone out for drinks with Hannah and Lexi last night, but the need to unwind and have some fun came out the winner against her responsible self. She steals a glance at her watch and takes a sharp inhale. Five o'clock is now only fifteen minutes away and she's no closer to finishing than she was at noon.
By Ciara Brooke5 years ago in Families
Leaving a Mark
Death has a way of taking what it wants. He was not going to last much longer. He had only been in the hospital for four days, but he had gone downhill so fast.
By Paul Kolak5 years ago in Families
Oblique Obituary
He always insisted his last name should be Phillips Coombes-Randall. His rum, rollie and dope habits hadn't been kind to his mental state, overall demeanour or physical appearance. He was a wreck. Round shouldered and dour, grumpy and sour, that was our Warren. The uncontrollable, tangled grey tonsure framed a permanent scowl under eyebrows set in a perpetual, baleful frown.
By Pat Miller5 years ago in Families
Lucre
“Don’t go into the woods, Daniel,” Mom called from the kitchen. She popped her head around the corner, phone pressed to her ear. The smell of hot cocoa brewing on the stovetop, of soup bubbling in the pot, filled the air of the cozy, woodside cottage.
By Ronald McIntire5 years ago in Families
Granddad's Garden
I end up in the garden because I can’t bear to listen to them anymore, the false smiles they flash at each other, the little barbs delivered in honeyed tones. ‘Remember that time, Evie, when he called me in to help with Mum even though you lived five miles away? I’m sure he didn’t want to bother you…’
By Julie Primon5 years ago in Families
One Goal That Changed Her World
It was a cold evening in November. The wind howled through the alley as Eliza rummaged through the bags in the now dark alley behind Emiliano’s. It was Friday, and she knew that there would be a large Ziploc bag of day-old spaghetti in one of the black bags in front of the dumpster.
By Missy Sorg5 years ago in Families
Letting Go
“What do you mean you found twenty THOUSAND dollars?” I pulled the phone sharply away from my ear as Iris shrieked. “You know how I like to plant my tomatoes deep so they can establish a strong root system? Well, I was digging, and I was down about a foot and a half when I found this box.” I stared down at the muddy box in my lap, the rusty lid flipped back with the sun shining on the bills like a holy spotlight.
By Mary Mesenburg5 years ago in Families
Death Wish
I was zoned out. Staring blankly at the surface of the water. I felt the chill of my soaked clothes as they clung to my body. I finally heard the sirens, those sounds that would have otherwise made me anxious, calmed me as they drew closer. I wiped away my tears on my sleeve and reached back into his right pocket to look for a key. Unfortunately, I couldn't find one, but his words "For you, Important, Don't lose this" stuck with me. Even if this was a blank black book It meant a lot to him and I promised to keep it safe.
By Victoria De La Cruz5 years ago in Families
Mystery of 1944
Mystery of 1944 As I walked eerily down the dark streets of Manhattan with the rain gushing down, I stepped on something firm. Ordinarily I would just keep walking but for some unknown reason I bent down and picked up the mysterious item. It was a soaked little black book. To say I was intrigued is an understatement. I resumed my ten block walk home with the book clenched in my hand the whole time.
By Sadie Colucci5 years ago in Families
Little Black Book
Im A Poor Kid In A Home Of Hate. Some Nights I Was Allowed In And Some Nights I Was Not. Some Nights I Was Allowed To Eat And Some Nights I Was Not. I Have Been Trying To Find A Job And Make My Way Out But Nobody Wants A, At The Time, Seventeen Year Old Who Wears Ragedy Clothes And Probably Smells. So I Just Dreamt Of Money And Getting Away From This Monstrous House Of Mines. I Said Dreamt Meaning, In A Past Tense Cause Now I Am Somewhere Better Sitting On Money. And I Am Still Shocked On How It Happened.
By Lucille Blount5 years ago in Families