family
Family unites us; but it's also a challenge. All about fighting to stay together, and loving every moment of it.
Words Unspoken
If it were up to me, I would never attend another funeral in my life. Or rather, never again submit to the constant badgering and shaming of my family and allow myself to be dragged into such a grim celebration of life, if it could even be called a celebration.
By April Potack5 years ago in Humans
fountains
Dear Joy, Suffice to say I never found the fountain of youth. I believe you began to suspect as much at your white coat ceremony two years ago – when you held my hand and felt that it was cold in that sweltering Galveston day. You’re a trooper for handling that weather. I don’t think I could ever do it. Back then, I still hadn’t told anyone. But you held my hand and looked at me like I was your grandmother’s fine china. It’ll be yours one day, that china – selfishly, I hope that day is sooner than later, though I suppose time will no longer concern me as much then as it will you. I guess I can wait. So I hope for your sake it is a long time before you set your own Easter table with those blue-ivy cups and plates and ridiculous gravy-boat. Your grandmother loves it. Remember her, and your grandfather, when you make the table. I am so sorry we never made it down to see you again. I thought I’d box myself up and have Loretta slap a “Fragile: THIS SIDE UP” sticker on me, ship me right down to you. She didn’t go in for that though. I don’t suppose you found any fountains on the Gulf?
By Seth Grant5 years ago in Humans
The Page Horizon
I’m looking down at the world from atop the globe and for a very long time, it is quiet. The glass is thick and clear, and small flurries of snow are whirling this way and that, settling down upon mountains and rooftops until ever again, it spins. I am happy here, but I do not know what that means. I do not understand the absence of joy, not yet, and so I cannot know how tightly I should cling to it. I am you, though I do not know what that means. I do not yet understand the absence of everyone else.
By Justin Boyce5 years ago in Humans
A Life On The Page
Marcelo scanned his card and stepped onto the bus, taking a seat across from the open space for wheelchairs. It was well into spring, but that day it felt blustery and cold. As the bus sulked along, Marcelo’s mind strayed to the grading that awaited him at home, and he felt an abrupt, unusual desire to postpone this work. He pressed the tape to indicate a stop request. He wanted solitude before getting home to his mom, their apartment, and the grading. Stepping out into the afternoon, the doors closed and the bus huffed away.
By Jacob Kiryk5 years ago in Humans
The Alchemist's Diary
Solemn tears were flowing down my cheeks like a river. My hands were shaking as I wrote each word down in my journal - my little black book. The creased black leather cover shows how far we have traveled together through my soul's valleys of darkness and light. Its brown-looking paper records stories of tears and laughter, thought-provoking reflections, and hidden feelings. My diary is my dearest friend, a reliable friend who has tirelessly been my safe harbor. I loosened my grip and followed my pen's flow. Rumi's beautiful poem came to my mind, 'Choose Love, Love! Without the sweet life of Love, living is a burden - as you have seen.' Life has never been easy for me, and when I thought it couldn't get harder, the universe challenged me to grow onto the next level.
By Yuliana Francie5 years ago in Humans
Something Old, Something New
It was a bittersweet day. Hae-won, a 65-year-old Korean-American woman with ageless beauty, moved into a new house―a decision she made after losing her husband of 45 years. She had lived a hard but fruitful life. Hae-won and her husband were Korean-American immigrants, and along with raising three children, they ran a small local store and restaurant for over 35 years. They were a staple amongst the community. Because she had lived a life full of established routines and familiar faces, moving into a new house felt like the beginning of a new life.
By B.A. Slyter5 years ago in Humans
Bathtub
She used her finger to scrape the last bits of peanut butter out of the jar and divided the smear amongst two slices of toast. Thank god neither of the twins is allergic, she thought to herself. She really couldn’t afford another breakfast option. She called up the stairs once more and finally heard the dull thud of a child leaving its bed. Then another one. It was now safe to grind coffee and not end up with two grumpy little beasts, startled by her morning fix. She heard their hooves stampede towards the kitchen and laid two mismatched plates on the table.
By Jessie Leigh5 years ago in Humans
