Latest Stories

Most recently published stories in Families.

A Box in the Park
As a single mother of two, I try to keep things interesting. Every Thursday evening following homework and an after-school snack, I take my son Carson and daughter Cassidy to a nearby park. To keep it fun I usually rotate between the five parks in my hometown of Whiterapid, Colorado. The third Thursday in September started off like a typical day. That evening at Adams Park, I stood at the base of the green spiral slide waiting for Cassidy to reach the bottom when I noticed strange markings in an Aspen tree to my right. This tree lined the edge of the playground and had never caught my eye before. When Cass got to the bottom of the slide she screeched and ran toward the swing set. At 8 years old, she no longer needed me to push her so I walked over to the Aspen that had caught my eye to investigate. I almost sprained my ankle. Some dog must’ve been digging and I was too busy examining the markings to notice before I felt off-balance standing in the dip. Suddenly my eyes locked on to something shiny beneath the surface of the dirt. I proceeded to pick up a rock to dig out whatever it was. This had just become an adventure.
By Bree Barker5 years ago in Families
The Last Night
I wake up to the flickering vibration of my phone pulsating against my left cheek. With my eyes still closed, I try to find the snooze button on the alarm. Instead of silence, I hear a voice coming from the speakers of my phone.
By Isabella Wellman-Webster5 years ago in Families
I forgive you!
As I sped out of the driveway seething with anger, I could barely remember where I was going. As I turned down the main highway I pulled over at the 7 Eleven to get a bottle water. Can I ever go visit my brother without us getting into some knock down drag out about his horrible habits. I mean at 35 he is still floundering. He lost another job and asked me to help with rent. I issued a strong rebuke but took care of the rent because my nephew was there as well. For years our parents took care of Chucky and they never made him see the value of being responsible. Now that my parents are well into their 70s they are no longer able to rescue him , so that leaves me. I suppose since I am the older sister with the Doctorate in Psychology, living on a 500 acre estate, with four cars that makes me CHUCKY'S BANK.
By KC Bass5 years ago in Families
Somewhere Off the Road
Part I Hiking was his escape, his solace in times of stress. There had been a lot of stress lately; a muddle of questions and doubts. He could try to out-walk it all, but he knew it was always there. It was even there somewhere south of Cleveland, Tennessee: one road after another, each one more bumpy than the last. He had left the old Ford way behind. Stone after stone went by – his downcast eyes stayed on the inclined dirt. This didn’t seem more than a footpath.
By Dan Clark5 years ago in Families
Daughter of a Dealer
Hello, my name is Linda and I am a hoarder. There I’ve said it. Hoarding is a way of life when you are born into a family of antique dealers. It takes roots very early as you can’t bear to see anything destroyed or thrown away. Your parents have taught you there is value to everything. My addiction is antiques.
By Linda Beaulieu5 years ago in Families
The Art of Running a Long Con
Growing up with a father who was a con man bent my perspective on the concept of wealth and personal freedom. Due to his profession of freelancing for fortune, ours was a complex family life to navigate. Each morning was greeted with an air of uncertainty: Today we retire to Costa Rica from the con of a lifetime? Or today my Auntie Helen will show up on the front porch telling me to pack a bag because I am going to be staying with her for a while. My first question to her was always, “For how long?” and Auntie Helen would just answer, “For a while. Now, let’s get you packed.”
By Kennedy Farr5 years ago in Families
Ireland.
The scene played back like a film reel, with sparkling flickers of sunlight obstructing her vision, warming her skin. The grass was even more green than she remembered it, and what were sounds like canned laughter filled her ears, overwhelming her. Jane felt herself swell with tears, and she cried out for mom. Everything was so tall from her height so far down; it was scary. But it wasn't long before loving, protective arms scooped her up and held her close. "Aw, it's okay, dolly." her mother cooed, "Don't cry."
By Miranda Marini5 years ago in Families
Eight Ball
Jackie had a decision to make, and there was only one way to make it. It wasn’t a difficult decision. But, when you’ve come across a foolproof way of making the right decision every time, it was hard not to use it.
By Adam Patrick5 years ago in Families
A Party To Die For
My great-grandmother, or Baba as we called her, was a little woman who led an equally little life. She spent most of her time in her little house, with her little dog, content going about her days with minimal fuss, or so I thought. My great-grandmother had a not-so-little secret, and she kept it in a little black book.
By L.A. Campbell5 years ago in Families
The Little Black Notebook
The Little Black Notebook Kim Kelley stared down at the book in her hand and the letter that come along with it, for she never imagined this would happen. The sun was rising on that summer morning in early July of 1987. She arose, walked downstairs in her pajamas, and turned on the light in her kitchen. She made coffee, black, no cream or sugar, just how she liked it. She toasted a bagel for her breakfast and a banana. When breakfast was made, she poured her coffee in a large mug with the words “USA” printed on it. There she was on the crossroads wondering on this day about what direction to take in life. Kim thought to herself, “I am sitting at my kitchen table with my coffee and breakfast in Sydney Australia, in a beautiful apartment, surrounded by camaras, photo albums, film containers and books for her research. I have a boyfriend, a career that I love. Why am I feeling this way?” She temporarily shrugged off her feelings.
By Elizabeth Jackson5 years ago in Families
The Countess of Montessavo
Essa ran into Sorva that afternoon, she was rushing to make it to her appointment with her great aunt who she had never met before. “I’m sorry,” she exclaimed as Sorva fell down, five loafs of bread tumbling down with him. He groaned as a few of the loafs fell into a puddle. Grasping his lower back, he shifted his weight to his right knee as he lifted himself up. “Clumsy” he muttered angrily as he glared at Essa. “This is why orphans should not be allowed to roam around the town square.” “Get!,” he barked. She scuttled away, tucking a spare bread under her skirt hoping he would not notice. This would be her dinner, she thought.
By Kara Moon5 years ago in Families
Short story compilation
Look at that picture... ...what do you see? I straight up see death! Haha okay, I may be a little bit overdramatic. The picture is actually pretty nice. I love the beauty of the earth and the perfect camera shot of this wave, it's satisfying and majestic. Have you ever ridden one? It's really fun! The breeze of the wind feels liberating as it pushes you back while the wave is moving you forward. I don't want to bag on something so serene. But I do want to raise a concern by sharing 3 stories that will help me convey a gentle warning for anybody planning to go to the beach.
By Mahonry Franco5 years ago in Families