Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Families.
It Cost To Know
In a small town mysterious town named Afrodite Falls lived a 60 year old librarian named Faith that owns a bookstore. Faith and her fellow employee Gilbert worked there from sun up to sun down. Gilbert is half human and half frog. Nobody knows his age, not even himself.
By The Vizual Genius | Samaya Rector5 years ago in Families
That Which You Need Most
The funeral was the picture of taste and grotesque wealth. It was equal parts my mother’s intricate, overbearing hand and my stepfather’s wallet. That’s what a long-term battle with cancer affords you: the gift of micromanaging your own farewell. The chapel stank of lilies, my mother’s namesake and favorite flower. Personally, I think they smell like a urinal, but nobody asked me. Naturally, it was her dying wish that I take home the most obnoxious of the arrangements, her last opportunity to saddle me with a reminder that I wasn’t her, that I’d never be her.
By Whitney Stone5 years ago in Families
Safe Haven
Mama got her monthly courses again today. Each time I close my eyes, even so much as to blink, the image of Papa striking her wields itself more and more potent. Her jarring wails persist to poison my ears. At times I wonder whether I too have succumb to Papa’s indoctrination that this is proprietary, just as Mama has. The disappointment runs just as deep through her soul as it does Papa’s, if not deeper. Her obsession with producing a male heir consumes her, leaves her sleepless, impotent. I know she loves us, but often Eugenia, Patrice, Clementine, Margaret and I, Angelica, occupy their conceptions of failure and futility. It will soon be my time to become a debutante, be courted, and eventually marry. What will become of me if I am to face the same fate as Mama? Desperation? Misery? Mental affliction? I fear my mother’s demons.
By Joanna Angeletos5 years ago in Families
One Last Adventure
My grandfather was my best friend. We did everything together. I remember him telling me stories about his childhood, about how he and his father would go on all these little adventures. When I was younger, I loved to sit on his lap and listen to all the great treasures he found. How much was real, and how much was make-believe, I don’t know. That doesn’t matter. What matters is the excitement that he felt telling the story and the excitement I felt listening. As I got older, I was able to go on these adventures with him. I remember running around all over town looking for clues. He even paid people to be a part of the story; the crazy shopkeeper, the one-legged pirate, and the undercover treasure hunter posing as a school teacher. Everyone knew him. My grandfather’s name was August, so he nicknamed me September. On every treasure hunt, the town’s people would say, “there goes August and September.”
By Felecia Brown5 years ago in Families
Cherries
It feels like the cheap brittle white plastic chair I’m sitting on might break at any given second, but right now I’m sitting on the front porch of my grandma’s chipped yellow house. The chairs had gone through a tremendous winter. I’m surprised they lasted this long, she’s had them since we moved here five years ago. The cherry blossom tree in my grandma’s yard is in full bloom as well as the lilac bush. Sweetness filled the air as the cherry blossom flowers danced their way off the trees swirling and twirling in the air. Bees are excitingly buzzing, the birds are chirping, and the gentle warm breeze gives me chills of joy, it just makes my heart swell. I feel like a kid again.
By Claudia Valella5 years ago in Families
You Did What?
When I answered my phone, my cousin’s panicked voice cut me off before I could say a word. “Shawn, you gotta help me! Oh my, God, Shawn! I’m in so much trouble! You gotta help me, Cuz! I’ve really messed up now! Oh my, God, I can’t believe it! You gotta help me!”
By LaShawn Neighbors5 years ago in Families
A 60's Tale
A 60’s Tale 1962, Friday, 2:15 pm. Barbara sits in her car, her long dark hair hangs limp in front of her face. She stares out the window at nothing as she replays that last forty five minutes in her heard. She walked into her estranged husband’s offices, as she walked through the beige, dim lit corridors towards his office she noticed the sympathetic looks from the secretaries, even other business men. How could they know? Did they really know who Stanley is? She reached his office. Time seemed to warped and grow foggy. The words “keep the damn house, do what you want with it, sell it. But don’t contact me again” ring and blast through her ears. A traffic warden taps on the hood of her car, bringing her back from her thoughts. She begins the slow drive home. In her rearview mirror she looks at her son and daughter’s clutter on the backseat, wrappers from rhubarb and custards litter the floor and sandy footprints line the interior. Barbara smiles to herself thinking the freedom they must feel, her smile fades when she thinks of them for too long.
By Charlotte Gould5 years ago in Families
Beaty
"Along the wall, behind the park, but never attempt after dark", Thea smiled, reciting a poem her quirky Grandma Beaty had helped her memorise as a child. Unlike the last bazillion times she had made the journey to her Grandma's house, today Thea was in no hurry to get there. She was well aware that today would be the last.
By Anna Carla Searing5 years ago in Families
Keeper of Secrets
I grew up in the city. Life was past paced and hectic, so full of noise and people. Everything I needed was close at hand. Just a short walk to pick up a few groceries or even eat out, and getting things delivered was just a phone call away. Every day was filled with, bright billboards and honking horns, even at night, everything was lit up, so it seemed like day.
By T. C. Murphy5 years ago in Families
