family
Family unites us; but it's also a challenge. All about fighting to stay together, and loving every moment of it.
Sometimes They Call Back
Sometimes They Call Back By Shannon M. Burke The phone was ringing. Racing into the kitchen to grab it before the machine picked up, Kate glanced at the caller ID. The call was coming from her mother’s house. Jamming her finger down onto the ON button, she answered just in time.
By shannon m burke4 years ago in Humans
A Peek at ME
How do you tell people about yourself without being “wordy”? I have no idea. I’ve been accused of being "wordy" so many times in my life that I just accept it now, and I do me better than anyone else anyway. So I’m going to get really wordy in this nitty gritty bio about myself because I literally know no other way.
By Dannielle Nelson4 years ago in Humans
3 Times I Was A Jerk During My Teenage Years
I have heard from some people that they never regret anything in their lives, as everything that has happened has led them to who they are at the present. While that premise is solid, I'd argue that it's a coping mechanism for some to not let regret drown them.
By Chau Trieu4 years ago in Humans
I Was Only 12 When Dad Got Dementia
He came home from his job as a cook at the prison–it was an odd gig. His voice cracked as he admitted to my mom that he had been fired because he was smuggling cigarettes to inmates. A look of defeat and hopelessness hung over him. My mom, a woman with a fiery temper, immediately started screaming. She couldn’t fathom the idiocy of my dad’s careless choices that would eventually force us to move out of our beloved home.
By Susie Pinon4 years ago in Humans
Saudades
I hate the number 8. I moved to the United States and left my entire family, friends, and language in Brasil when I was 8. So, when 2020 came around and we “celebrated '' spending 8 years in the US, I was unhappy. Coincidentally, 8 years is also how long we lived in the States before getting our citizenship. That's where this story begins.
By Beca Damico4 years ago in Humans
Red Rain Boots
A young girl sits beside her grandmother on a front porch swing. She sits still and patient, listening to her grandmother tell her, what she believes to be, a tall tale. Clad in her usual purple coat and her cherry red rain boots, the little girl looks out past the front yard, across the road to the neighbor’s field. The field has been dormant for quite some time, overgrown with grassy weeds and arbitrary stalks of corn.
By Cecilia Gross4 years ago in Humans
