Love

The First Night of Winter
He entered the one-room garret to find Marla in front of the floor-to-ceiling arched window with her right side to the doorway. Neither spoke as he walked across the garret's cold wooden floor. He stopped about ten feet away from her. The time was 5:20 PM. Without turning to face him, she softly said, "sundown is 5:22 PM." The last rays of sunlight of this, the first night of winter, struggled to glimmer through the window. Marla stood in shadow; her ribbed woolen sweater clung tightly to her body, accentuating her figure. Her full-length pleated skirt fit snug on her hips and then draped loosely down to her muscularly toned calves. Her hair, now cut to shoulder length, appeared colorless in shadow. She stood there motionless as the last arrows of sunlight shot across Paris at a sharp low angle, barely reflecting off the city's zinc roofs below.
By Pt Spano4 years ago in Fiction
Lost and Found
Sometimes it just can’t be helped. People move on. Life moves along, but still I can’t stop this nagging feeling that something, somewhere veered off the rails. Something that I could have stopped, despite everyone's insistence that it was out of my hands.
By Tina Rose4 years ago in Fiction
His Art, His Music, His Notebook Pt. 2
It was a very hot day in Chicago. It was not one of those “cooler by the lake days”. It was hot throughout the entire city. Hot with no relief. I sat outside the cafe drinking iced oolong tea to help reduce the anxiety I was feeling while I waited for the stranger. I was also praying that the stranger, would not stand me up. Then all hopes of me finding her lover and receiving $20,000 would disappear. I want to pay off my student loans and build my business. There was a lot I could do with $20,000. But I actually really wanted to help her. My desire to help her find her lost love was so genuine. I was living through her; I wanted him for her. I wanted a happy ending.
By Sonja Camille4 years ago in Fiction
In Love With An Older Man 28
May 1997 "This is Rebecca and Jonathan Greenberg. They'll be starting kindergarten in the fall," Cindy told the receptionist at the elementary school.
By Angela Denise Fortner Roberts4 years ago in Fiction
In Love With An Older Man 29
Cindy was crying so hard that for a long time she couldn't say anything at all. Deeply concerned, Gary held his wife as fantastic notions of Jonathan's possible diagnosis went through his mind. Brain tumor? Surgery?
By Angela Denise Fortner Roberts4 years ago in Fiction
Cherry On Top (chapters 1-3)
Chapter 1 Cherry slammed her car door of her old, usually reliable, black, Chevy. She muttered to herself, while pulling her rolling suitcase from the trunk.
By Whitney Sweet4 years ago in Fiction
An Unsinkable Love
The whole thing was surreal. An hour had passed since the Titanic had struck ice, and only the first of the lifeboats were being lowered into the freezing waters below. Shrieks and cries reverberated out into the vast nothingness of the Atlantic Ocean for no one to hear; only to be silenced by the booming crystalline white rockets exploding overhead.
By Aaron M. Weis4 years ago in Fiction
Letter 1
Dear Ghost, You might be wondering why you are receiving this letter, fortunately, this is not a “Dear John” letter. Instead, I am going to write these letters to you in hopes that our words and the meaning that is scattered behind them will paint a better picture of our story or at least a story that is worth telling and being able to remember.
By Devin McGurk-Nixon4 years ago in Fiction
A Dream Come True. Top Story - April 2022.
August 10, 1912, was a dream come true. My aunt and uncle had third-class tickets to board the RMS Titanic for a one-way trip to the USA. Uncle's illness was an ironic tragedy, for all his life he had dedicated every spare honest and ill-gotten penny toward his and his wife's emigration. When it came time to put up the 14 quid for the two tickets, he was more than prepared. Truth be told, his plan would launch him across the ocean just a step ahead of the regulators who would soon discover his embezzlement adventures and other fiscal misdeeds.
By Gerard DiLeo4 years ago in Fiction
A Grave Called Home
A Grave Called Home As I walked through the familiar streets of my decaying city, the grisly sights of what remained only a haunting memory of the life this place once held, I began to search for myself in dissonance. Where once stood memorials and shrines, now shakily leaned the marred attractions that remembered no heroes. A place where nature and beauty once met structure and machine had become the solemn wasteland where the dreams of the damned would rest. The vile, voracious vulgarity of the villainous vermin that vexed this place with their tyranny had laid ruin to the fallen construct that was once a garden for life. A sky once so blue had turned ash-gray against the silhouettes of the concrete and steel creations we all once climbed for safety, to live and work within and call our homes. The smell of reality rotting away from this place filled every breath, and the pain of realization with every exhale came. The structures which touched the skies with pride now crumbling in on themselves as if their hearts and spines had been crushed from the weight of what had come to pass. The passageways to the undergrounds had collapsed, and the pathways above were but a framework of sadness seemingly outlining in broken ways the sights of where they once led. The seemingly invincible city that I once called my home…was little more than a grave. The verbose desires of man had met the horrid desires of the demonic, and hell was born through the volition of those who sought power but knew what they wrought. The intrinsic nature of such beings poisoned the very collective consciousness of our people until it spread like a disease across our planet and swallowed a world once filled with life. Cataclysm soon became the expectancy and destruction the norm. While we had great strength, it was misplaced along with our hope and belief in those who made promises that faltered under the weight of their decisions.
By Alastor4 years ago in Fiction
When Your Ex Understands This, Everything Changes
When Your Ex Understands This, Everything Changes If only your ex really understood what you want. His attitude would change instantly.
By Abhijeet Pandey4 years ago in Fiction
EMPTY
What a lovely evening it was. In no way cold as the stars were out in full force. You might even say that it was the near perfect night if you felt like a stroll with the one that you hold most dear.
By Paul Westlake4 years ago in Fiction