Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Families.
Who Says Luck Can't Strike Twice in One Day
Who Says Luck Can’t Strike Twice in One Day? By Joyce K. Faul “How could you? Danielle Marie shouted! You knew that money was intended for the down payment on our next home.” Tears flowed abundantly down her soft pink cheeks. She grabbed a tissue and stormed out the back door, leaving a thick cloud of disappointment hanging in the air behind her.
By Joyce Faul5 years ago in Families
And So It Happens
Florida put her hands over her face. It was enough. It was too much. She could no longer pretend that everything was okay. It wasn’t. It had not been for a long time. She blew out a breath, or maybe she should be taking one in. Either way, she felt calmer. She almost broke down for a minute, and that would not do in front of her sixth-grade math class.
By Fatima Hyman5 years ago in Families
The Passing.
21st January 2021 The oul man passed four days ago. The on lookers, both friends and family lined either side of the streets. Crows on a telephone wire. The smooth pined pressed firmly down against six shoulders, each one holding the other up with his own emptiness. I watched those who gathered around bowed their head in respect. The air hung moist with dew, and the frost speckled the tarmacked pavements which created a shimmer in the low light of the morning. He would’ve been proud of us, as we always were of him. Such a grafter. Never workshy or lazy. Four o’clock in the morning, up and out, back for tea at six. That was always the way of it. God, I have to laugh, if he could see us now, he would be wondering what had gotten us all down. The black masses of black suits, black ties and black moods, the old black dog was surely mixing through the crowd. But he’d still be smiling. The long walk began from the house to the chapel began; a chorus of marching feet met the road with matching rhythm. We wept silently, held our heads up high and tried to make you proud. Were you proud of how we stood? Shoulder to shoulder, holding one another up with the chains of mutual grief. The slow rolling sound of the wet tires on the black chapel tarmac seemed to be magnified tenfold in the silence as we approached the station from which we would accompany you on your last journey. The marble floors, high stone walls and wooden pews seemed daunting. I whispered to ma, “Are you okay”, she squeezed my hand and nodded, a pillar of strength in this time of grief. And we never appreciated that enough. The chorus of beautiful voices serenaded the ceremony and ushered us into a new way of life. Not one which we wished to enter, but the hand was dealt, as they sang, we walked the aisle a final time we came to terms. The service was beautiful, everything was just as he would have liked it. The final walk seemed like a dream, we moved as if we were attempting to walk under water. We knew what was coming, yet we did not wish to see it. His body was bore down, and as the brass handled pine was passed from flesh to earth, we felt a sense of ease.
By Kevin Christopher Canavan5 years ago in Families
They Go in Our Places
The café was much busier than normal. Cigarette smoke covered the ceiling and shrouded the room in a fog, and every table was occupied. Chairs screeched against the hardwood floors, and the smell of coffee permeated the air more heavily than usual. As the man and the woman walked in and ordered their drinks, they heard a radio playing in the background:
By Noah Roush5 years ago in Families
Cece And Me
The dense Dorset mist tightens its grip around the house, creeping in through keyholes and disappearing with the woodsmoke that warms the inside air. The faint clank of stacking china echoes down the corridor, and an image of the lamp on the side table forms on the frost-bitten window pane: an ornate, gold-plated mask over the hostile night. It’s just the two of us – Cece and me – the small black notebook on the floral footstool between us. Embers pop shyly in the fireplace, as if hoping we won’t notice. Theresa, our old chocolate lab, is snoring on the low, striped sofa which lines the wall on the far side of the sitting room.
By Winnie Stubbs5 years ago in Families
Unchosen
The first part is a mystery. I was there, but the memories are inaccessible, like a dream I know I had but can’t remember. We are not built to remember those months in the womb, that first explosion of light and the beautiful warmth of our mother’s body when we are placed upon her chest. Those memories we don’t get to keep, but they are all I have of her, so I imagine them.
By Susan McAllister5 years ago in Families
Empty & Full
“Ding!” The fridge opened with an eerie chime that reverberated through the air, notifying those in the audience that the show had started. Empty shelves housed ghostly outlines of the contents that were once there. The light in the top right corner glossed the shelves, displaying them in all their barren glory, longing to be filled with food that would nourish those who lived at 43 Hall Court.
By Nikki Iyayi5 years ago in Families
Writer's Block
I was sitting on my couch watching the rain cling to the windows. The little beads sounded like pebbles against the glass. I was afraid the window would break. The heavy blue curtains let only a streak of light from the outside world in. I tried not to let my gaze wander across the dark living room. I didn’t want to see the pale yellow wallpaper peeling away at the edges or the ugliness of the cluttered papers, bills, and junk.
By Emily Wohlstadter5 years ago in Families
Karma
All her life, Shay was the type of person who looked out for everyone, even giving up her childhood of playing with friends to help raise her brothers and sisters so their parent could enjoy life. She spent her time with her family and pining for the boy next door but he never noticed her. When she finally turned 18, she felt her life would become her own and she could live it the way she wanted. If she knew then what she knew now, she would probably regret making some of the choices she did make but elated her life changed for the better and that she found happiness.
By Jason Bozeman5 years ago in Families
