family
Family unites us; but it's also a challenge. All about fighting to stay together, and loving every moment of it.
The Ritual of Bones. Winner in The Ritual of Winter Challenge. Top Story - October 2025.
I have a pile of bones in my freezer, just a small one right now but it will grow. Winter comes like a seizure in Scotland; first the mellow summer starts to chill, then the morning air starts to smell of wet rot, and all of a sudden some of the nights and dawns are shockingly cold. Biting cold. It passes over and heat seeps back in. Then it comes again; fits of cold... And when the grass crunches underfoot every morning for a week and the sun doesn't rise until I'm on the bus to work I know its time to collect bones.
By S. A. Crawford4 months ago in Humans
The Silent Language That Connects Us All
In a world divided by borders, politics, and endless arguments, there exists a language older than nations, older than words, older even than history itself. A language that belongs to no one yet is understood by everyone. It is the silent language of humanity the language of a glance, a tear, a smile, a helping hand.
By Article Writing Master4 months ago in Humans
Why Does Everyone Doubt Love?
There's a quiet hum in our collective conversation, isn't there? It's a low, persistent sound, and if you listen closely, it speaks of disillusionment. It suggests that perhaps the beautiful, enduring, life-altering love we read about, the kind our grandparents promised us, is nothing more than a lovely, antique myth. We glance around at the fleeting connections, the easy exits, the perfectly curated online facades, and we start to nod in agreement with that cynical hum. We become convinced that the genuine, messy, lasting commitment is an impossible standard, a setup for inevitable heartache.
By Sean Korlead4 months ago in Humans
A Love That Grows Right
A Love That Grows Right How Two Hearts Found Wholeness, Balance, and Joy Together Maya never believed in perfect love—only in real love. The kind that’s patient when life gets messy, honest when things get hard, and gentle even when there’s nothing left to prove. She had seen too many relationships around her burn bright and fast, only to fade into silence or bitterness. So, she waited. Not for perfection, but for peace. Then came Daniel. They met on a rainy Thursday in a local bookstore, both reaching for the same worn copy of The Alchemist. Their fingers brushed, and they both laughed—awkwardly, then genuinely. It wasn’t cinematic. No lightning bolts. No music playing in the background. Just two people who shared a mutual love for stories, silence, and strong coffee. Their first few conversations were cautious. Both had pasts, but neither carried them like baggage. They talked about their dreams—not just the big ones, but the small ones too. Daniel wanted to learn how to cook something other than pasta. Maya had a goal of visiting every botanical garden in the country. He listened like it mattered, and she spoke like she believed he really cared. What made their love different wasn’t the romance, though it was there in abundance. It was the respect. Daniel never tried to fix Maya. He never suggested she “calm down” when she got passionate or “let it go” when she was frustrated. Instead, he listened, even when he didn’t fully understand. Maya, in return, never expected Daniel to read her mind. She asked for what she needed. Kindly. Directly. And he appreciated that. Together, they grew—not into different people, but into better versions of themselves. They had disagreements, of course. Like the time they planned a trip and forgot to book a hotel, ending up sleeping in the car. They laughed about it the next morning over gas station coffee, agreeing that it made for a better story anyway. Love, they learned, wasn’t about agreeing on everything. It was about how they showed up for each other in the disagreement. Maya never felt smaller with Daniel—only safe. He never felt the need to be anyone but himself with her—only seen. They encouraged each other’s dreams, even when it meant spending time apart. When Maya got accepted into a writing retreat across the country, Daniel was the first to celebrate. “Go chase your words,” he said, with a proud smile and tearful eyes. And when Daniel started therapy to work through some of the pain he hadn’t talked about before, Maya held his hand without asking for details, simply saying, “I’m proud of you.” They built their relationship on shared values: kindness, honesty, growth. Love, to them, wasn’t a finish line. It was a garden they both chose to water every day. On their second anniversary, they planted a tree in Maya’s backyard. A flowering dogwood. Maya read that it symbolized strength and affection. They didn’t need rings or grand declarations—just something that would grow with them. Years passed, and the world continued to spin in all its chaotic beauty. Jobs changed. Friends moved. Life tested them, as it does every couple. But their love remained steady—not because it was easy, but because they nurtured it with intention. One evening, as they sat under the tree they planted, Daniel said, “You know what I love most about us?” Maya looked at him, her head resting on his shoulder. “What?” “That we didn’t rush anything. We didn’t try to make it perfect. We just... let it grow right.” Maya smiled. “Like this tree.” “Exactly,” he said, intertwining his fingers with hers. They watched the leaves dance in the breeze, golden light wrapping them in a soft, fading glow. And in that simple, quiet moment, they both knew something deep in their bones: Love doesn’t have to be loud to be powerful. It doesn’t have to be dramatic to be true. It just has to be honest, kind, and chosen—every single day. And that’s exactly what theirs was. A love that grew right.
By Muhammad Saad 4 months ago in Humans
Something Old, Something New, Something Borrowed, Something Blue
Committing to Ourselves You may or may not have heard this 19th century good luck rhyme for newlyweds. Family and friends give the bride each of these items to incorporate into her attire for the big day. They're each symbols of family tradition, purity, love, and luck. These can be physical things, or spoken advice, blessings- however creative and meaningful your family would want to make it. They're pretty easy to remember, and it doesn't have to be your wedding day to incorporate their messages into your life. We're going take a creative approach as we flip this inwards, towards our own commitments to ourselves.
By carmina jasmine4 months ago in Humans
