Love

Write In The Middle Of It
The coffee shop always had a strange orange hue to it at night. It was almost like a warning to those that entered that if they came in they would be in a caffeine-induced illusion the next day. From the street, Stephen Gibson looked in and saw only two or three people inside and that included the man behind the counter.
By Majique MiMi4 years ago in Fiction
Rail Spiked Tea
“One or two?” Jack lifted his little tin teapot from the fire and filled two mugs. The steam from the tea blended into the night mist that covered the floor of the graveyard. It had been 3 hours since Jack started digging. He counted four graves in total, taking him an hour to dig up a grave and he could save an hour if he really pushed.
By Sital baniya4 years ago in Fiction
Café Confusion
"What's taking him so long?" I muttered to myself as I sat impatiently tapping my foot. This was his favourite café, and we came here all the time, it had gotten to the point where we always know what we're going to order before we walk in the door. "Hurry up Tyler! You just need to say; the usual, and you know Mitch will bring our food to the table!"
By Immie 4 years ago in Fiction
A Warm Cup of Kindness
Cameron had decided not to return to the Coffee Shop for over a week. The influx of new manuscripts seemed to increase each day. Most of everything had been slush and quickly tossed but they were able to gather quite a few gems for the E-book Promotion. Sam's book had been returned to him and sat in Cameron's desk. Jacob had agreed with the quality.
By Steven Olson4 years ago in Fiction
A Warm Cup of Kindness
Mason carefully stocked the counter with all the essentials for the day. The familiar smells of his mom’s pastries tickled his nose as she baked them upstairs. Dad helped her, moving around slowly. After so many months Dad seemed to be steadily getting his strength back. His parents ran the shop by themselves with the occasional part-time helper. They had always done so even before Mason was born. But after Dad got sick, his mother knew she would need a more permanent helper until Dad got better. His sister lived too far away, and had a husband and kids of her own. So Mason had dropped out of college and returned home to help. Some people said they felt sorry for him, giving up when he had been so close to getting his degree. Yet being back in the coffee shop, with the warm taste of Mom’s pastries and the fresh aroma of coffee...it felt like home. He had left to pursue his dream, but this shop had been where he really belonged.
By Steven Olson4 years ago in Fiction
A Warm Cup of Kindness
Cameron walked into the coffee shop the next day rubbing his hands against the cold. Mason stood behind the counter busy helping a couple other guests with their order. Cameron's eyes though searched through the shop. Mason glanced over and shook his head. Sighing Cameron sat down in one of the nearby chairs. Mason came around the counter to stand next to him.
By Steven Olson4 years ago in Fiction
A Warm Cup of Kindness
A cold wind tugged playfully at the bottom of Cameron's coat as he walked down the road. Winter had decided to arrive earlier than expected, bringing with it a thin blanket of snow. He kept his hands firmly in the pockets of his long coat head bowed against the chill, mouth buried in his scarf. The leaves on the tree stood dressed in autumn colors. Pumpkins sat in store windows looking out over the streets. Once he would have been thinking about what costume to wear, now he merely thought about what to say once he got to work. He finally walked underneath the familiar sign of a warm cup with a couple music notes on the side and a music staff instead of steam. Ducking inside he was greeted by a tinkling bell and the warm earthy aroma of freshly brewed coffee mixed with the sweet delicate smell of pastries. Behind the counter a young man wearing an apron, gloved hands covered in flour looked up and smiled.
By Steven Olson4 years ago in Fiction
You can go now
For two years, I walked past this house daily on my way to clean houses for clients in my neighborhood. I loved everything about it, like, the sky blue wooden shingles with white trim, the bedroom windows above the front porch, the driveway on the left side leading to the back yard, a long rose bush bordering the right, and the maple tree providing shade for the back deck. Then one morning, there was a FOR RENT sign on the front lawn. My heart filled with joy, I wrote down the real estate agent's number and called as soon as I arrived at my first house of the day. I was informed by the agent to complete an application form online and pay a non-refundable $200 deposit, after which, if selected I would be interviewed by the owners before being able to receive any more information, including a showing of the house. After I hung up, a seed of doubt had been planted but I remained optimistic because I knew this house was special. I felt it.
By MRH4 years ago in Fiction
Secret Wives
CHAPTER 1: “May I speak to Tameeka?” I gripped the cell phone tightly in my palm, willing this ordinary voice on the other end of the line to not be her.
By Sakeena Abdul-Hakeem4 years ago in Fiction
Write In The Middle Of It
“Whoa”, Erik said through a chuckle, “Heavy talkin? About what now?” Erik took his platter over to the pillows and turned up the volume to the television hearing the familiar theme song of Law and Order filling the loft.
By Majique MiMi4 years ago in Fiction
The love story of Mandakini.
The love story of mandakini There is a disobedient love that awaits him in a strange arrangement, and his philosophy is fair, but when his arrival is not only unexpected but inconvenient, he sits across from Tribhuvan.
By Nikhil Bhowmik4 years ago in Fiction
Narcissus
Narcissus Love - Eternal love, especially for men and women who don't know how wonderful it is. About two-thirds of the world's literature is about love. The same goes for the diversity of love. Love, reunion, estrangement, alienation, violent or blunt, fragrant, platonic. Dante becomes anxious after seeing a teenager at a wedding. He never saw the girl again, he didn't even know her name and identity, but he wrote a Divine Comedy about her and is still alive today. The venerable Beatrice also survived. Devda Sarattabo is one way, Dutta is another. The variety of love makes it expensive. Our blog is decorated with these different best love stories.
By Nikhil Bhowmik4 years ago in Fiction