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!"
A Village Affair
One morning Sarah ran out of eggs for the quiche she was making for Peter’s dinner and went to the little post office shop down the high street. She felt cheerful, like a housewife from some period drama, as she walked down the narrow street with a wicker basket on her arm; it had belonged to Rachel, but Peter had said she could use it. She hummed under her breath and tilted her head to a fragile blue sky. It was nearly April, and the slight breeze held the promise of spring.
By Kate Hewitt5 years ago in Humans
Tragic Pasts
Travis is a kind old soul. Over the years he has been through a lot of tough times. Now that he is retired he likes to spend time at his local VFW bar hanging out with some of his veteran buddies. Although Travis never served in the military. He did have plenty of friends and family who did. He has witnessed everyone of them come back changed. For Travis hanging out with the Vets and making sure they feel apricated brightens his day. On this night he noticed a younger man sitting at the bar looking very depressed, sitting alone nursing a whiskey coke on ice. Travis hasn’t seen this man before. Concerned for this man, he walks up to him. “Excuse me brother, everything OK?” The stranger turns and looks up at Travis. “Why the fuck do you care?” Obviously in a grumpy mood, Travis is shocked at the greeting he just received. “Whoa, hold on there buddy. I noticed you looked a little troubled. Judging by your reaction I can assume I am correct. I just wanted to offer some kind words and possibly help if I can.” Surprised that Travis is still sitting next to him the stranger struggles to find some kinder words. “Look I appreciate the concern. And I mean this in the nicest way… GO AWAY!!” Reluctant to give up, Travis shrugs and simply says “Ok man, as you wish. I truly hope your evening goes better.” The stranger without a word raises his glass as if to offer a toast, then throws back what is left of his drink, slams the glass on the counter, and then turns to walk out of the bar. Shaken up a little by this Travis rejoins his friends.
By Shawn Ross5 years ago in Humans
I'm Counting On It
Rebecca sat on the top porch step of the cabin, gazing out at the light illuminating the peak of the Tetons. Her mood in no way matched the serenity of the setting. She checked the time on her phone for what felt like the seventeenth time and called out impatiently,
By Janice C Molinari5 years ago in Humans
The Bus Stop
“I’ve always wanted to go to a jazz fest,” she said while on the phone with her father. Morgan was ready to get out of the house. Working from home, lack of sleep, and stress all contributed to her purchase of a jazz fest ticket. Every year, historic Central Ave in Los Angeles shuts down a few blocks so folks from all over can gather together to enjoy a weekend of soul.
By Alexa Harris5 years ago in Humans
5 Ways to Make Friends As Bookish As You Are
For so many reasons, bookish friends are among the very best kinds of friends there are. For the extroverts among us, books present an endless supply of conversation – from what you’ve been reading lately, to how a movie compares to the novel it was adapted from, or what your favourite local bookstore is. If you feel a little socially anxious, “what are you reading?” is an easy way to springboard into conversation. And if you love companionable silence, what better way to achieve that than by sharing a sofa or a stretch of beach, each quietly turning pages and caught up in your own worlds?
By Claire Amy Handscombe5 years ago in Humans
A Secret Space
Sandra glared at a bright spot of blood welling around the tiny splinter that had burrowed into her index finger. Wiping it onto paint-crusted jeans, she snatched up the work gloves that lay on the worn top of the antique dresser she had been sanding.
By Pamela Darbyshire5 years ago in Humans
Coat Tales
"Your mission should you choose to accept it," said Tess "is to be the voice of reason, to steer me away from the temptation of the crazy and wonderful coats that are hiding on this glorious rack and force me to buy what we came to this hallowed place to obtain: a sensible workplace appropriate jacket."
By M.K. Caudle5 years ago in Humans
Building My First Treehouse
It was spring break of seventh grade back in 1997. As a curious 12 year old who didn't have a whole to do except play video games and hang out with friends while school was in recess, I had found a cool place in the woods a few streets down and behind my neighbor's house. My buddies and I used to walk through the woods throwing rocks and sticks like most kids did back in those days, however on this day we had stumbled across a large stack of old wood that looked like it had been torn off the tree and thrown aside unwanted. Now normally I wouldn't have thought anything of it, but there was this growing urge to build my own home away from home. The thought of having my own spot of refuge to go to when I didn't want to deal with parents or schoolwork was overwhelmingly great.
By Robert Reinert 5 years ago in Humans
My Daddy's Friend, Tom
Tom was my father’s closest friend when they both lived on Cedar Street in Powderly, Alabama, in the 1940s. In their late teens, when they were out on the town my father would often drink beer. Tom drank milkshakes; that’s not how I remember him.
By Bill Coleman5 years ago in Humans
