Love
Partridge in a Pear Tree
Love is overrated. At least the kind of love you see in movies, she thought. No, that didn’t sound right. Freya looked up at the stars, “Ugh! I’m not sure I can write about love. Have I ever really been in love?” She had a writing assignment due for the magazine and it was all about love. There was a new line of perfume her company had acquired a contract with, and the client wanted a story to go along with the release to promote the product. All about love was the theme. She didn’t mean to sign up or bid for the writing position, but she wanted to expand her writing skills. And as far back as she could remember, she stayed away from writing about love. She didn’t even mean to raise her hand saying she would take the assignment; she was sort of pushed by her friend Emily. Emily was always talking about love. In fact, Freya often wondered how Emily could literally fall in love with every person she went out with. She was in love with love. Freya knew that Emily only pushed her into taking the assignment to get her to open herself up and have new experiences and in her words, “Be open to love.”
By Roberta DeAndrade4 years ago in Fiction
The Boy Next Door
Most of my childhood took place in his backyard. Really, most of my life in general has been lived in his spaces. In his backyard, in front of the fireplace in his living room after spending as much of the day as we possibly could outside, at his kitchen table with his parents, in his bedroom.
By Ariel Joseph4 years ago in Fiction
Frozen With Grief
I always come back this time of year, when it’s not quite as cold as it normally is. I curse the day we vacationed in Alaska five years earlier. It was a bit warmer than it is now, the ice nearly melting but not quite. We happened upon a small frozen pond. The locals assured us that it was completely safe to walk on. I sniff in sadness as I remember that day. Blake teased me and playfully called me chicken for not following him onto the ice. He jumped up and down to prove how solid it was, but I was uncertain.
By Jude Liebermann4 years ago in Fiction
Before Lena Went Missing
"I wrap my arms around the trunk of the pear tree. How many years now? " It was a long time ago when I saw them plant it. I didn't know back then it was a pear tree, but that is what it became. I try not to eat pears these days because they remind me too much of her. Not that I ever knew her very well. At first the best we did was say hi or hello on the odd occasion when I walked past her front yard and she was sitting on the fence or just standing there. Hello. Hi. I kept on walking, going down to the shops, running some errand for my mother. Buying groceries.
By Grant Woodhams4 years ago in Fiction
The romantic poet
The lone romantic poet sat under the light of the full moon and wrote a deep poem filled with passion and heart. But the people around him only laughed at his words. He never felt so alone amongst the people as did when he was amongst them. The only time he felt whole and not alone was when he was writing his poetry.
By Sara Kline4 years ago in Fiction
Frozen Pond
Love is defined by a strong affection for another arising out of kinship or personal ties or that would be the simple interpretation for such a feeling. Words can never seem to properly express the amount of love that I feel for you. Ever since the day I first laid eyes on you, I was entrapped by your beauty. Do you remember the day we met? It was 12 years ago but it feels like yesterday. It was winter. You sat alone at the edge of the frozen pond looking out at the ice as if lost by a spell that forced you to hold your gaze out into frozen space. I saw you from a distance and although I couldn’t be one hundred percent sure, I knew that you were the one that I had been searching for.
By Yusef Hood 4 years ago in Fiction
The triple romance
It was a wild summer night back in 2009 when I was dating Frank Bailey. I was a lucky young woman dating the cities most famous man around. I was engaged to be married to the billionaire of Bailey Industries. The one question people kept asking me was, are you happy? People seen in with him everywhere he went. I felt like I was on camera every second of every day.
By Sara Kline4 years ago in Fiction
A Chance Encounter
Even years later, I remember the wind being sharp as a blade the day it all started for us. Heavy clouds hung oppressively in the atmosphere, accompanied by light snow that fit seamlessly with an already frigid February afternoon. The wind chill was nearly overpowering. The cold was there to greet me as soon as I left the comfort of my dorm room, fully prepared to tag along for as long as I was stupid enough to remain outside and within its grasp. Despite the weather, campus still managed to remain picturesque in its own right – with frost covered trees swaying, unblemished snow on the lawns where we tailgated during football season, and paved walkways slick with ice under a gray sky. Clusters of students were moving every which way, walking a bit more gingerly over unsalted sidewalks. A few braver souls even zoomed by on bikes, riding at a speed that I figured just about confirmed their insanity. I was about two minutes into my fifteen-minute trek, and the regret over not waiting for a nice heated bus was nearly palpable. My mood darkened as almost each step I took prompted an involuntary shudder and a quiet curse.
By Robyn Bonner4 years ago in Fiction
The Sweetness and The Rapture
It’s so quiet and lonely that sometimes I can’t stand it. Sitting here on the wall and looking out over the beach at the sea makes me feel empty. I don’t really know if it makes me feel empty or full--too full to overflowing maybe. It’s like the sky, the sea, the moon and stars, and the soft crashing of the waves want to swallow me up and take me to a higher place where my limited understanding just can’t seem to go.
By Om Prakash John Gilmore4 years ago in Fiction
Metal Identity
When I was sixteen, I had a boyfriend, Ryan. Ryan was the definition of tall, dark, and handsome. He had green eyes and a muscular build. As typical teen romance, we held hands at school, snuck kisses when no one was looking, and drove around town on the weekends in his beater car.
By Jessica Mathews4 years ago in Fiction
Sister of Yesterday
The snow fell silently as the sunset danced across each snowflake. The snow covered landscape held a sheer, pure beauty that nothing else could compare to. As they walked toward the bench near the frozen pond's edge, his heart swelled with pride because he realized this was the perfect spot to propose. Things had finally started slowing down, and he knew with the Holidays right around the corner, her mood would be on the up. Finally.
By Samantha Neilson4 years ago in Fiction
