Love
A Love Frozen in Time
I take a sip from my light blue mug filled to the brim with delicious hot cocoa and feel the marshmallows stick to my lip as the liquid burns the roof of my mouth. I breathe and watch as my breath mists over the hot beverage and floats up slowly to the darkening sky outside the window, where clouds cover the orange glow of the setting sun. I close my fingers around the edge of the mug, absorbing all the heat that I possibly can before I go out and face the harsh cold of winter. I take a look at the world outside my window and watch as the people of this small town hurriedly get to their destination while bundled away in coats and parkas. They briefly pause to nod their hellos and goodbyes to the familiar faces but continue marching along to get out of the cold. Scarves fly behind them as if they planned a cape to be a part of their wardrobe, and the tops of their heads buried into their hats, such as a turtle would burrow up in his shell. I can hear the crunch of the snow under their boots by just looking at the movement, and it brings me to a place of nostalgia. It brings me to a time of childhood wonderment as my snow boots crushed through blank, untouched fields of snow, marking my footprint as the first sign of life. I smile, thinking back to a time of simplicity, rolling my eyes to the many days when I envied adults and wished I was my own independent being already. God, I wished I could take it back and travel back in time to relive the golden days where my only worry was the homework assignment that had been due the next day.
By Brianna Kot4 years ago in Fiction
True Love's Reach
I knew this night was going to be different. I knew from sitting in the car outside my cousin’s house, things were going to change. There was a relentlessness in the air. I could not tell why I wanted my cousin to get out of the car, but I just wanted to go home. My fiancé, Derek, and I had argued earlier as he thinks I take everything I have for granted, and I just wanted to finish talking. I couldn’t even focus on the conversation my cousin was trying to have with me as he was busy trying to ask me to come around more, since we live up the street from each other, yet we had not seen each other in years. Honestly, I do not care to reconnect with family. I have never been close to them. I am more interested in becoming part of Derek’s family than my own. The windows were slightly down so we could feel the change in temperature. It was getting cold, so I told him, “It’s about to rain, and it’s late. I need to get home.” I knew he was going to give me a tough time about ending our conversation, but instead I saw the yellow undertone, in his melanin skin, be flushed out by a blanket of white fear. I did not hear anything, I felt it. It hit me. I touched my head to find out what had hit me in the head so hard, but there was nothing there. I looked outside my window. I did not see anything. I looked back at the passenger seat for my cousin, but he had vanished. I thought to myself, my drink must have been spiked at my aunt’s house. Damn! Let me go home and sleep it off. As I walked up to my front door and put the key in the lock, I heard a strange voice saying, “Miss Elliott! Can you hear me?” I turned around, but no one was there. I rushed into my house, truly hoping someone I love was playing a sick prank on me because I had never heard that woman’s voice before. I locked the door behind me, grabbed my gun, and frantically checked the house for intruders. It was only then, did I notice this was not a prank – my beloved guard dog and trained emotional support animal, Prince, was gone. My anxiety arose instantly. I would have shot myself, in that moment in a panic, but I felt a blast of freezing air. Then I felt my body go numb limb by limb. It was in that moment I knew I was going to awaken to a nightmare, and I knew my drink had been spiked. As my body hit the ground, in what seemed like slow motion, I heard a man’s voice say, “Miss Elliott can you hear me?” I knew I was hallucinating, but when my head hit the floor, I heard a drilling sound then I had the worst migraine I have ever had. I thought my head was going to explode. The pain made me wish I were dead.
By Diamond Elliott4 years ago in Fiction
Reflections
He is 80 and I am 72 now, but we are still just as crazy about each other as we were when we met at the young ages of 33 and 25, respectively. The year is now 2064. I cannot help but look at life differently now. The kids have grown and started to become gray like us. As we sit in our backyard for our granddaughter’s wedding, I could not be prouder of our lives. I am also quite proud of myself because I helped plan a gorgeous wedding. She picked the perfect day to have it too – springtime, March to be exact. We were so excited, when she asked if she could have her wedding here, but who wouldn’t want to? The view, from the mountains here in San Fran, is like no other plus the venue was free so clearly the baby is smart. We renewed our vows in this same spot when we moved here. You see, when we got married, we went to the J.O.P. because we were so focused on saving money and never cared to make a spectacle of ourselves, but we went on an amazing honeymoon. I still cannot believe he agreed to leave the states for that long.
By Diamond Elliott4 years ago in Fiction
El Amor. Top Story - August 2021.
Mariposa sat at the small table in a café in Tarragona, Spain, patiently awaiting her date's arrival and hoping he would appear soon. Tarragona, though somewhat small, was a busy city due to the bullfights, and it was possible that Santiago had been delayed by unforeseen events since he worked at the Tarraco Arena where the bullring was located. Mariposa reassured herself he would arrive shortly. He had promised her that tonight would be a very special evening. The two had known each other for a year, but they had never been on an actual date until this evening.
By Cindy Calder4 years ago in Fiction
Raging Mind
I can feel an itch between my shoulder blades, a heaviness in my chest, as I try to occupy my hands and mind before I give too much thought to the things I actually need to focus on. My upcoming move? No. My first time moving in with a romantic partner? No. My need for a full time job again? No. I need to pack for my move and apply to jobs. I need to apply myself to pack and pack my mind with maturity to apply to a job.
By Ariana GonBon4 years ago in Fiction
Untamed
No one in the world knew about the ziplock bag. She hid it in the bottom drawer underneath other papers and random items. To the untrained eye, it was just a pile of nothing. Yet, on these quiet summer nights, she knew exactly where to find that package of memories.
By Nicole Wong4 years ago in Fiction
The Legacy
Lauren knew the sound of that ’53 Panhead like she knew the sound of her own breathing. Without even being near it, she could already smell the oily tang of the exhaust. For fifty years Lauren had cared for that motorcycle as if her life depended on it, and, in a way, it did. She looked down at her phone again, at the text message displayed on the screen, and as the rumble of the two-stroke Harley Davidson got closer, she smiled.
By Anthony Stauffer4 years ago in Fiction
Duke
Duke is a beast of beasts. He has got to be one of the largest creatures to ever roam this God-blessed world. Pure muscle. It's fun to watch children see him for the first time and jump backward. Some dare to try to touch him, but he doesn't let them. And he sure is a dirty son of a bitch. Regardless of the terrain, you can always smell him before you see him. But he is sweet and gentle, and easy to love.
By Ryan Weingartner4 years ago in Fiction
NOT NOW BABY, I'M CHAFED!
"Oh God!, it's another scorching hot afternoon," Joshua said as he was taking his last reinvigorating break of the day. He sauntered to the parking lot to get his phone from inside his vehicle - with a blue towel draped around his neck. It was kept there constantly during his breaks - to wipe the sweat from his face.
By Dr. Totziette Slater4 years ago in Fiction
Texas Heat — Chapter 3
Corey pulled his truck up the wide, tree-lined drive of Covington Manor, home of the wealthy owners of Covington Oil. Trees towered like watchful sentinels along the quarter-mile drive. Their branches, never still in the West Texas breeze, sprouted a million dancing leaves all flashing in the sunlight as if signaling his approach to the Lady of the Manor.
By Lynda Coker4 years ago in Fiction
