literature
Families and literature go hand in hand; fictional families to entertain, reflect and inspire.
A Father's Gift
Young Love In a small farm town in Illinois, what served as a safe place for a younger woman was the company and live-in relationship with an older man who had been a husband in a previous marriage. The man was a busy farmer who owned two farms and had full custody of his 4 sons from his previous marriage. The two met at an in-town local diner where the young woman worked as a waitress.
By L.R. Marmor5 years ago in Families
Treasure Hunt
“Mornin' Snickerdoodle, it’s time to wake up.” My Mom says in her soft morning voice. She understands how difficult it is to open my eyes first thing in the morning. “It’s Friday sweetie, yay! I’m going to pick you like a little radish, right out of bed.” I give a little grin because she’s trying. My Mom says dorky stuff like that all the time. “Ugh ok” I utter in a quiet groggy voice. To be completely honest, I’m not ready to leave my warm snuggly bed behind, but I wrap my arms around her neck and she pulls me away from the top bunk. She smells nice having already gotten herself ready for the day and now she’s completely focused on me. The warm smell of fresh coffee invades my nose. I hear our dogs whining to be let out, and the chatter of news reporting coming from the TV in the living room where my Dad hovers over a bowl of cereal. My Mom’s focus remains on me. In a flash, my PJ’s are off and my school clothes are on… I have yet to open my eyes.
By Jennifer Slack5 years ago in Families
My Father's Gift Horse
It was summer in Florida, and the days of August were hot and sweaty. The air hung thick with moisture, clinging to the skin and dripping from the brow. The damp heat was something I was well accustomed to, but the feeling that accompanied it was far divorced from my childhood. Back then it meant dripping ice cream, sandy shoes, and long, dehydrated days at the beach. It meant my mother, brandishing a newspaper like a bat, trying to corral me and my siblings back into the apartment. Now, however, the sun was angry and so was I.
By Anya Rallison5 years ago in Families
Fate
It had already been six days since he had a shower, but the water bill was $300 the previous month and Mario had it turned off for half of it. He was trying to get the kids funneled through first. All three of them had autism, so he still had to help wash their hair and ensure they were properly cleaned. Sometimes the simplest things people take for granted would take so long for all the boys, like tying shoes. Having a water pipe bust underneath the house forced him to think outside the box, and today’s solution was skipping his own shower again.
By Michael Novak of Saint Petersburg5 years ago in Families
Moleskine
Moleskine Maria was born an only child to an English Mother and an Italian Father in 1967. Raised in Italy until her Father suddenly passed away when she was 18, her large Italian family were typically considered “the working class”, as Maria was constantly reminded of this by the other children at school in her younger years and how poor she was. Maria was also constantly reminded of how terrible the many moles that covered her skin looked too, as she was bullied about them for years, having gained the nickname “Moley Skin”. Maria’s Mother always called them “beauty spots” however and would constantly remind Maria when she was upset, that it is always whats on the inside that counts.
By Leighanne Garvey5 years ago in Families
Then It's Gone
Every day is predictable: I wake up at 6:00 am, brush my hair, brush my teeth, and put on my clothes. Make breakfast for Nick and Max. Start coffee. This is my morning, every morning since Max was born. I once had a life where I had to wake up early and rush out the door before eating. I’d grab a coffee and a pastry from the local drive through coffee lounge. I was a nursing assistant. I loved my job; I loved the people I worked for. Then I became pregnant and became a stay at home mom with Max. Max is my world. Nick always wanted a wife that stayed home with their children, and could teach them the alphabet and their colors. He wanted that wife who gave up everything for their child and had a hot dinner ready for their husband when they came home from a long day at the office. I never intended to be that person, and now I am that wife.
By Jen Thompson5 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
