immediate family
Blood makes you related, loyalty makes you family.
So, this is Goodbye.
James, I should’ve let you know that I was pregnant. I knew you would've made me stop drinking and I never would’ve made it full term if I was sober. As I sit here and down my last bottle, all I can think about is how much better off you would've been if I'd done this sooner. If you didn't have the burden of knowing that I’m your mother, you could've amounted to more. Please, understand that I had to tell the hospital staff that you’re their father. They need you James. You’re all Kiah and Dominic have.
By Janice Daily5 years ago in Families
Concerning Ladybugs and Time
My dearest Lucy, I hope you enjoy. - Amma Lucy stared at the writing. It was on a folded up piece of notebook paper, tucked inside the binding. She shut the notebook, keeping her thumb inside. Just a plain black notebook. Nothing notable about it. The cover was a smooth leather-like material, most likely faux, with no distinguishing lettering or marks. She flipped it back open.
By Lara Isabel5 years ago in Families
Like Mother, Like Daughter
You’d never know what hit you until the time comes. At least, that’s what Elaine told herself nearly every day. Things were tough, an immeasurable amount of trying, and trying again, was in Elaine’s past, and in her distant future as well. You’d think she could handle it well after all these years, but she doesn’t, and she won’t.
By AJ Lee Young5 years ago in Families
SLICES OF LIFE
Slices of Life By Maggie Heilig Aubrey suddenly became aware of a throbbing pain in her neck. The cold plastic of the cafeteria table was pressed determinedly against her face, doing nothing to absorb a trickle of sweat that crept across her forehead.
By Maggie Heilig5 years ago in Families
The inner prize
The cold stung his eyes as he shouldered the porch door open. He stopped for a moment to listen to the stillness of the morning, not a soul was moving nor dogs barking. Every morning Arthur would make the trek from the house to his paper-box gathering the morning news for his route. Crunch, crunch went the crusted snow almost echoing off the sleeping houses with their chimneys pumping out a fog keeping everyone warm. Another delivery another day, Art was thinking of Saturday, collection day when his customers would pay him for his labor....hopefully.
By Alan Kwiatkowski5 years ago in Families
An afternoon in the theater
On a beautiful, cool autumn afternoon my son and I were driving very cautiously and competently in his red convertible Mustang. I sat next to him in the front seat and I smile. My shiny brown hair played in the breeze as I watched excitedly as the soft wind moved the colorful leaves on the trees. You could see the little birds fluttering over the treetops and their sonorous songs could be heard for miles. My son parked very close to the cinema entrance under a tree whose leaves were orange yet still full of life. We were the first to arrive. He opened my door gently. We made our way to the theater’s back seats but when I unfolded the seat to sit down I could see that it was occupied. An old black book rested on the seat. Immediately it caught my attention and I was invaded by curiosity. He wanted to know what the contents of the black book were. With great care and delicacy, very slowly I took it in my hands. I opened it and was stunned. My hands began to sweat a cold sweat, I could not believe what my eyes were seeing. He couldn't believe what was inside, the pages were yellowed from the passage of time. A myriad of dollar bills started to fall out. I could see it spread over my fine white silk skirt. My damp hands were shaking, I didn't know what to do with them. I picked up the bills and put them back inside the old black book. Grabbing my son by the arm, I rushed him out of the theater quickly. He was curious to know what was going on. Everything went so fast, the movie hadn't even started yet. He didn't understand anything but he went out with me. I told him let's go inside the car and I'll describe to you what happened to me. We opened the old black book and he couldn't believe what he was seeing. His eyes went wide as an owl's. He exclaimed, "let's count is already!" The dollars were as soft as butterfly wings. Twenty thousand dollars. After counting all the money he said "let's look inside the book, maybe there’s a dedication in it so maybe we can find whoever owns the old black book and the money." The biggest surprise of our lives was written inside. We discovered that the book belonged to a woman. It was surprising that some time ago my grandfather, who was a writer of ancient stories from the old west, had written that book to his beloved wife, my grandmother, where he captured his great love story. It started on a long train ride. He was lucky enough to see a vacant seat in front of the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. When their eyes locked they were struck by great love. Love at first sight. He was a tall young man with deep green eyes and very well dressed. He looked like a prince. She was a tall young woman with abundantly blond hair and eyes as blue as the crystalline water of a river. He often liked to travel by train because that way he would travel from city to city. Looking for interesting stories. She was looking for fine silk fabrics to make dresses for the most cultured ladies of the time. In his youth, he loved traveling but he did not stop writing beautiful love letters that she kept in an old trunk where she also kept her beloved old black book that her late husband had given her after they were married for 60 years. They were cinema lovers so when they got married he bought her a beautiful big house in front of a movie theater. In the center of a large room was a fireplace where they sat and drank hot chocolate every morning. The house was so warm and surrounded by a beautiful garden where different kinds of well-kept plants grew. There were orchids, geraniums, gladioli, and a variety of roses of different colors. In the garden, you could hear the whisper of little bees perched on the flowers to collect the nectar to make delicious honey and in the center of the garden, there was a small wooden bench where the grandmother used to sit every afternoon to read her black book. That afternoon in front of her stood a tall, elegant man, and well dressed, who was wearing a black gabardine suit. His shiny hair well combed back where you could see some gray hair. He was the man who had bought her one of her old paintings that was given to her by her late husband. The man had given him twenty thousand dollars for that valuable painting. She put the twenty thousand dollars in the black book but then it was time to go see one of her favorite Old West movies. She loved it because it reminded her of when she and her husband saw him together, and through the intoxicating nostalgia, she forgot that she was carrying the twenty thousand dollars and the book. Due to the 90 years of age, she often lost her possessions, for example, she lost her glasses, her umbrella, and once she lost her scarf. That's why when the movie was finished she was so excited that she rushed out of the theater and forgot her old black book with the twenty thousand dollars in it. When my son and I arrived at my beloved grandmother's house. We found her sitting on her old sofa in front of the fireplace. Gently stroking her white cat and crying unconsolably because she did not remember where she had lost her beloved black book and the money. But to her great surprise, we came and hand-delivered her most precious treasures, her twenty thousand dollars, and old black book.
By Joel Rivera5 years ago in Families
Wishes Upon Starts
My heeled boots continuously clashed with the metal, stone floor creating a cacophony rhythmic beat, as I rushed through the wide, glass airport doors reflecting a raging sky. Behind me trailed my lonely, brown suitcase, being constantly beaten by the rain. I had arrived in Toronto, Canada two days ago for my new job. I wouldn't be surprised if I got fired, but at that moment I didn’t really care. My father had called at 2 am in the morning; my mother didn’t have much longer. From the moment I’d received the call, my rational mind went out the window. My younger brother was also rushing home from college in Berlin, Germany; neither of us knew how this had happened. It was so strange. Less than 12 hours ago the four of us were on a video call, chatting peacefully together for once, and now she only had days left in this world.
By Nicole Liao5 years ago in Families
Memories of My Dad
Oliver (O.C.) Stringer was born on June 12, 1920 as the only child into a Central Illinois farming family. It was a much simpler time in our country’s history and of course there were no computers or cell phones. If you had a phone at all it used the fence wire that ran along the miles of open country roads and it had a crank on it to make it ring farther down the line.
By William O'Neal Stringer5 years ago in Families
How To Save A Life
John glanced at the calendar, staring at today’s date encircled by several thick, red rings of ink. His eyes darted to two days ahead, even more red ink ringing that one. He stared at it, just as he had done over and over again for weeks, no, months now, actually. A long time either way. He’d been determined not to miss it this year. More determined than he’d ever been about anything. Now, finally, the day was here where he would start to right his wrongs.
By Beth Croft5 years ago in Families
Letter to the Author
Samantha sat alone, as usual, charcoal in hand. Her hands and forearms were covered in black smudges, with one more above her right eye. Her black notebook was small, but somehow she managed to capture beautiful details in every image she made.
By Belle C. Fairbanks5 years ago in Families
