Love
Maya’s Smile
On the last day of summer, I watched over the lake. The breeze skipped over the pale waves, chopping them into little ripples. The sun was setting, and the orange light began to fade into a dark blue dusk. I sat alone on the lakefront taking in the warm air. After school I would always go there to get away from home a little longer. It wasn’t that a disliked being there; I just enjoyed the peace and quiet of being away from the commotion. The breeze was gently brushing against my face like a feather when suddenly I heard a voice behind me.
By Christian Johnston4 years ago in Fiction
The Green Light at The End of The Storm
The sound of rain pattered against the hood of Claire's beat up old Honda. She sat listening to the sound as she wondered how her husband Mark would react to the news. 120 seconds is a long time to sit and ponder when your dreams are coming true. She imagined what would happen once that red light turned green.
By Crystal Nicole4 years ago in Fiction
My Charming Vegan
It was the winter of 2007 and another cold, damp day in March. I had been separated from my husband for over a year now, and I began to fall into the same old habits. My monotonous pattern was one that occurred every Friday evening. It actually excited me…a trip to Hollywood Video, a bowl of popcorn (heavily salted, of course) and my Boxer, Bandit, on my lap perfectly completed my peaceful and cozy evening.
By Lori Armstrong4 years ago in Fiction
His Wife Asked If We Could Be "Just Friends"
When I stopped speaking to him, I constantly worried that I might run into him somewhere. I kept imagining scenarios where I'd be out to dinner with friends and look up to see Jack across the restaurant, or I'd be at a gas station and he'd pull up to the pump next to mine, or something. But as months went by without incident, the less I thought about it - it hadn't happened yet, so it wasn't likely to. We clearly had lives that were different enough, separate enough, that simply ending our connection was enough to cut off contact completely. Sometimes that made me sad, but mostly I figured it was a good thing. It saved me from unplanned interactions with Jack; I didn't know how those would go anymore.
By Shea Keating4 years ago in Fiction
Blink of an Eye
Happy music danced through the night sky, weaving in and out of the ship’s twinkling lights and up to dance around the moon lost forever somewhere in the night. The cruise ship plowed through inky black water away from anything real, causing a cold and forceful wind.
By Colleen Sincavage4 years ago in Fiction
Last Chance
You cannot escape until you fix your mistakes and find your life’s path... A voice boomed over an intercom. Jon ran down a hall unsure of what he was running from or where he was running to. It was like a dream; one minute the world was black, and the next he was running.
By Colleen Sincavage4 years ago in Fiction
Crab and Bull
(Claws, Sea, Shell) Being a Dove, people always ask me about true love & the secret to a perfect relationship. I look every one of them in the eye & say ‘There is no such thing as a perfect relationship & the only way you find true love is to love truly.’ I explain that it is simply impossible for it to be perfect but that doesn’t mean it can’t be amazing. No one will ever be able to love another exactly the way they want, the key is to just try.
By Amber Trudeau4 years ago in Fiction
Going Home
Margaret waited until the coast was clear and pressed her frail body against the cold brick wall. She hoped if she made herself small, moved quickly and quietly, she could get to the front door un-detected. The long hall’s overhead lights were turned off to “conserve energy.” Or so the residents were told, when they pleaded to not be left alone in complete darkness. She suspected the lights were kept off so the night crew could sleep through their shifts. The only illumination for her flight, was the rusty green exit sign hanging over the porthole to her freedom. Tonight, Margaret was grateful for the green tinted darkness, that barely lit her way to the door. While enveloped in tinged shadows, Margaret, or Maggie as her beloved husband Ted called her, stopped to listen to the familiar sounds of the lonely night, one last time…
By DeEtta Miller4 years ago in Fiction
