Love
The Total Package
He was down in the basement, and he could hear her walking on the floor above. Even her footsteps sounded angry. It hadn't always been this way. He used to have his own appliance store, where he did quite well. He was a pillar of the community and people respected him. That was up until the super store moved in. Two years later his business was shuttered, and now they lived on social security. People hardly knew his name.
By Carl Smith4 years ago in Fiction
Annalise
Annie stood before her mother's closet, one hand resting on the door handle, the other hanging limply at her side. All I have to do is open the door and walk inside, that's all, she thought to herself. She'd been standing before her mother's closet for over an hour, but no matter how long she stood there, she couldn't force herself to enter.
By Cameron Scott4 years ago in Fiction
Remember me in the meadow
Every time they had visited his mothers grave stone his wife had made him repeat the promise , the plan they had made many years before. That when one of them died that they should be cremated and their ashes scattered in the marigold meadow that was growing in the corner of the cemetery. They always sat on the bench looking at the beautiful colours during the spring and summer, always waiting for their return when the weather was harsh.
By ASHLEY SMITH4 years ago in Fiction
Lyla's Box
It was a morning like every other morning, except it wasn’t. Lyla couldn’t quite put her finger on what was different about this 26th day of July but from the moment her eyes opened and she rolled over in bed, she had a feeling that today was going to be different. Memorable. She arose from her bed and slipped her pink satin robe over her shoulders and went into the bathroom to splash some water on her face before making her way to the kitchen to make some coffee. She had to hurry. Her shift at the hospital began at 7:00 and it was already pushing 6:00. As the coffee was brewing and filling her house with its aroma, she went about beginning her day now that the sleep was leaving her eyes. She brushed her teeth and ran the water for her shower. That feeling in the back of her mind about today being different had not gone away, quite the contrary, it had only gotten stronger the more she tried to ignore it.
By Brianna Edwards4 years ago in Fiction
Under the Pear Tree
In a small town lives a young woman named Lyla with dreams of being a simple baker. She adored the artistry of pastries and cakes, especially the ones with fruits and fillings. To fulfill her wish she works eight hour shifts, sometimes doubles, six days a week at a diner down the road. On her only day off she spends her time sitting under a pear tree in the forest behind her house. It was planted there and cared for by her grandmother before she passed. The tree has become a loving memory and her most favorite place. She always brings with her a basket of baked goods she experiments with at home along with a pen and notebook to write down all of her ideas for her bakery. Everything she could possibly think of like the calligraphy of the menu, the source of ingredients, the color of the walls, and all the flavor combinations she could think of. She could sit there in the soft grass for hours on end as she lives everyday with imagination and possibilities.
By Brooke Freerksen4 years ago in Fiction
Paper Boats
Paper boat makes me smile. It has become part of my life. Has become part of the life of many children, indeed. When we were children, we usually fold a used piece of paper to make one and let it float inside a basin with water. Then we blow air to make it sail around its limited ocean until it soaks and slowly sinks and we could not make it move anymore. Again we build another one until we give up thrusting it with the air from our lungs.
By M.G. Maderazo4 years ago in Fiction
Don't Open Until I'm Dead
"DON'T OPEN UNTIL I'M DEAD" was written on the envelope tucked in between the twine that was tied tightly around the box wrapped in plain brown paper. The box was heavy. It couldn't have been cardboard. But it also wasn't heavy enough for it to have been made of wood. Plastic, maybe? No. After tapping the sides it definitely didn't feel like plastic. A light shake didn't do much to solve the mystery either. A harder jostle was just as fruitless. Maybe the envelope could offer a clue.
By John DeLorenzo4 years ago in Fiction
One Killer Writer
Georgina's writing was finally taking off and she was the feature poet at the annual Colorful Creator's Art Festival. Georgina had coveted the opportunity to participate ever since she was just thirteen. Now she had finally made it, and Vince was nowhere to be found.
By Korreain Johnson4 years ago in Fiction
Theodore
Daniel opened the apartment door with a key he had possessed since he was a boy. Still on the same piece of green yarn, it slipped in the keyhole easily. The air was stale. The place had been closed tightly for too long, drapes drawn on the windows shutting out the world. The hardwood floors needed cleaning. He moved slowly from room to room, taking in the smells, touching the furniture, noting the photographs carefully hung on the walls, and in small wooden frames on the tabletops. He peeked in the fridge; he sighed, saddened; there was little work to be done in there. Confirmation that he hadn't been eating properly. Finally, Daniel set his coat on the back of his favourite chair, an overstuffed club covered in dark lavender velvet. He loved it because it was eccentric and comfortable, everything that he had known Theodore to be.
By Sandra Dosdall4 years ago in Fiction
The second chance
July 23, 2021 I had no intention of opening it. I am the type of person who obsesses with everything I shop and whatever this package was; I hadn’t ordered it. I hesitated and left the package a full day in the mailbox before putting on my big girl pants and finally checking who was it address to. My hands were trembling when I saw my name and address. The handwriting was familiar, which gave me the strength and comfort of opening it. I frowned as I took the old rusted key from the package. At least there was a letter in there.
By Alexandra Garcia (She/Her)4 years ago in Fiction
