Love
Divine Pair
The pounding in my chest has spread to my ears, eluding that this could be a dream, which I'm still finding hard to believe this isn't. Smacking right into each on this trail, after almost 8 years. It's almost degrading how quickly I remember the feeling of being beside him, but even worse, how quickly I relished in it.
By Kaitlyn Bajus 4 years ago in Fiction
Blue Summer
Blue stared at her reflection. She squinted her eyes, angled herself, saw the bulge of her stomach, turned back, and looked at the sliver of exposed skin between her high-waisted jeans and striped crop top. She liked this shirt. The sleeves weren’t too short, and it didn’t cling to her sides like a python trying very hard to murder its really cute prey. But showing any part of her midsection made her heart race with anxiety. Her final verdict was that she could not, in good taste, wear it to a party where there would be another actual real live lesbian.
By Brittany MacKeown4 years ago in Fiction
Scent in the Wind
Feeling the soft breeze announcing, just barely, the beginning breaths of Spring, Beatrice walked into her courtyard, wishing for the first blossoms to bring their scents into her surrounding evergreen garden. In Brazil, Spring first arrives in late September, especially in the higher elevations; although, she is only a few hours north of the warmer year-around Sao Palo.
By Cynthia L Fortner4 years ago in Fiction
Beneath the Pear Tree
Penelope Washington had never distinguished or reckoned what true love really felt like until the summer of 1995. She would be turning 16 in June. Her grandparents Ulysses and Ethel Washington always kept her during the summers. Penelope's parents had moved away from this country town, but they always sent Penelope back to visit.
By Adrianne Kirksey4 years ago in Fiction
The Other Side
As Christmas carols played in the background, Claire stood frozen, staring at the colored lights blinking on the green, snow-flocked Christmas tree and realized the great irony of her situation. She had been here in this exact location, a few weeks ago, just a handful of steps away on “the other side”. She recalled the day she saw hopelessness in a young mother’s face when she didn’t have enough food for her small child to eat. She watched as the mother took the biscuit from her own plate, tore it into bite-size pieces and put it on her child’s plate. She observed from a distance the deep, heartfelt pain when a father was told he had to sleep separate from his wife and baby. He would sleep on the cold hard floor in the gym so that his wife and baby would have a threadbare blanket and a cot in the hallway. She had silently watched, with tears in her eyes and an ache in her heart, as a young boy licked the last tiny morsels of a biscuit from his plate and begged the volunteers for more. The workers refused his request because they had to follow the rules. “One biscuit per person.” All that had been when she was volunteering on the serving line. Yet now she stood among them not to serve but to be served. She had cooked, encouraged, and loved them with no real understanding of how they felt with no place to call home, never imagining that she would find herself in a position to receive rather than give. Suddenly, it hit her, she was walking in their shoes and the stark reality of what they endured had just begun to reach to the tip of her very soul. She looked around again through different eyes. She felt her heart breaking as she watched a young child cry from hunger. A lone tear ran down her cheek as she saw an old man carrying around a plastic bag full of all his belongings. How could someone fit everything he owned into one small, brown, plastic grocery bag? Then she glanced down at her own suitcase and realized all that was precious to her was in this one small case.
By Sara Lindsey4 years ago in Fiction
