Love
Treasured, Mysterious, Over-Achiever, Protector and Twenty-Four Hours
Mister Treasured, I'm glad I wasn't there when it was confirmed by doctors that you couldn't be revived. You would think that that sounds cruel, and I do too, but based off of the stories I've heard of what went down then, I don't think I could've handled being there.
By Shyne Kamahalan4 years ago in Fiction
Ultimate Betrayal
I looked at the clock. Only twenty more minutes until I see her in her beautiful dress. She could be wearing rags and still look stunning. I'd waited four years to make her officially mine. So when she said 'yes' I was ecstatic. I let her plan her dream wedding. I wanted her to be happy.
By A.R. Tanner 4 years ago in Fiction
Love Among the Haystacks. Chapter.05
It was breaking cold dawn when Geoffrey woke. The woman was still sleeping in his arms. Her face in sleep moved all his tenderness: the tight shutting of her mouth, as if in resolution to bear what was very hard to bear, contrasted so pitifully with the small mould of her features. Geoffrey pressed her to his bosom: having her, he felt he could bruise the lips of the scornful, and pass on erect, unabateable. With her to complete him, to form the core of him, he was firm and whole. Needing her so much, he loved her fervently.
By Mohammad Arif4 years ago in Fiction
Ticking Clocks
Ticking Clocks He wonders if memories fade like bricks on buildings. The familiar zip on the jacket and was his armor for the cruel world. The wind was pretending to be strong and bully the remnants of winter, but spring had its feet firmly planted for it’s turn. The light jacket was perfect protection from the wind and his feelings.
By Kristopher Hayes4 years ago in Fiction
The Aspen Grove
Once she was a grove of Aspen trees. She sat nestled at the base of a mountain, just across the valley from a little boy who lived with his mom and dad and younger sister in a small cabin. His name then was Charles, which she thought was quite a funny name for such a little boy, and he played among her branches his whole childhood.
By Sarah Faeth Sanders4 years ago in Fiction
Coffee and a Party
It was already a tough day. Hot coffee stained the front of Rue's blue polo and khakis, and she wasn't sure which hurt worse; her raw pink skin underneath, or her pride. Every time a customer wrinkled their brow, looking her up and down with a mixture of pity and laughter on their face, she felt pathetic.
By AJ Langley 4 years ago in Fiction
Part 3
I wanted to move but I did not want to I wanted to turn around and just hugged him but how I couldn't unable to, what must I do. I liked his welcoming his conversation with me already I think I am falling for a spirit man not knowing at all who this is or what.
By Marian Cavazos 4 years ago in Fiction
