friendship
C.S Lewis got it right: friendship is born when one person says to another: "What! You too? I thought I was the only one!"
Lost and Found
It was an unassuming backpack, and I didn't really give it a second thought. Sitting at a busy park, I was trying to catch some early Spring sunlight while writing a paper that I'd been putting off all week. I had vaguely noticed the bag by the tree near me when I sat down, but it hadn't really registered. About an hour later, as day gave way to dusk and a chill started to set in, I looked around the park and realized it had emptied out. I had started to pack up when I happened to notice the bag again and realized the owner was long gone by now. After gathering my belongings, I walked over to the tree to have a look. Nothing special; no markings, tags or pins. Just a plain black backpack. I decided to open it up and have a look inside, hoping there would be some ID so I could try to contact the owner.
By sarah rosellini5 years ago in Humans
Tiny Tenant
Jeremy, a short and curious blonde-haired 7-year-old boy, had a fascination with critters. He figured a bright shiny summer day like today would be great to get outside with his notebook, a smooth small journal with a black face, and fresh white pages to write on. Shuffling out into the yard, Jeremy spots a modestly small snail on a bush. His new little friend wiggles from one leaf to the other, munching on bits as he passes by. The snail, green in tint with a beautifully intricate brown shell, lifts its head towards Jeremy. Jeremy is thrilled to have caught the attention of his new pal, begins to write. "This snail loves to eat leaves!" "He saw I was looking at him!". Jeremy decides it's best to leave the snail to his business for now. He carts his book further into the backyard with him to note the butterflies and stick-bugs wandering around.
By Thomas Spence5 years ago in Humans
Black Is A Lucky Color
He paced around the room for what must’ve felt like hours. Occasionally he would glance back at the small black pocketbook on the coffee table. Finally, he stopped pacing and stared at its contents once more. At that moment he decided that this was a sign, it had to be because how else could he have been this lucky.
By Paloma Gallardo5 years ago in Humans
Side Bar
I enter the tracking code for the umpteenth time and my package is definitely being delivered this afternoon. International Express Post. I paid extra because I fell in love with it online and would complete the room I was redecorating. If it looked that good on the screen in that dusty warehouse surrounded by other auction house junk, certainly it’ll pop on my Instagram and people will ask me where I got it and I’ll scoff, ‘you’ll never find one.’ Unique, quirky, functional, is how I like to style my home and this item is everything.
By Erin McKay5 years ago in Humans
The Great Awakening
“Bloody hell, this is going to be a mammoth task” Magda thought to herself. Why she had offered to help the eccentric, elderly gentleman she knew only as Earl was now escaping her. Because I AM a caring neighbour, she reminded herself and besides, he really has no one else. So, with that thought, she girded her loins, took a deep breath, and firmly knocked on his front door. Whilst waiting for Earl (which she knew from experience would take forever), she used the time to glance around their Walthamstow suburbia. Today felt, smelt, and appeared different to her, it was her favourite time of year, blossom on the trees, not a cloud in the sky, spring had sprung and by the look of it most people were feeling the benefits. She was just mentally planning a sunny, care-free afternoon at the park lying under her favourite oak tree when she was jolted back into the present moment by a quiet but firm, “Can I help you”? As Magda turned around to see a stranger on the doorway, she knew instantly in the pit of her stomach she was not going to help Earl go through his prized possessions, box up what he could take to what would reluctantly be his new and probably last dwelling.
By Deborah Jane Coates5 years ago in Humans
My Friend Melinda
The first time I meet Melinda is in line at the supermarket. She’s in front of me, searching for a two-dollar coin in the mound of her emptied purse on the counter. The woman behind the cash register twirls her hair into multiple sighs. The look on her face says Hurry up, geez, just pay with your card or something, you old kook. As if she has something better to do.
By Robert Poposki5 years ago in Humans
True Colors
Three years. That's how long we had been friends. Three long years. Practically to the day. We'd been through so much together. We laughed. We cried. We shared the same experiences together. We'd go out on the town and have fun. We'd turn heads walking down the street together. We had thought about what we'd be like when we're old. We made a pact that in 10 years if neither of us were married or had children, we'd have one together. We made each other so happy. Then one day, he texts me " let's meet for coffee and have a chat".
By Melissa Lenox5 years ago in Humans
