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!"

Randy's Lot
It's a chilly September morning. Dew coats the trees and bushes, the morning sun sparkling in each droplet. Randy opens his eyes to the all-familiar interior of his ragged grey tent. He sits and wraps up in the only blanket he has: a big, worn, woolen thing he's had since he was a boy.
By T.A. Burt5 years ago in Humans
Driving
The truck is packed, the last strap is secure in the back holding all of their camping equipment. They both can agree that it’s been too long since their last vacation. This time, it’s a trip up north. They are camping, but it’s at a resort so there are things that you don’t normally get while camping.
By Tommy Boy5 years ago in Humans
I don't really want to be a queen
Inspiration can come in the strangest ways, like a surprise birthday party. My best friend had just moved into her home with her boyfriend. I hadn’t been to her house but finally made the drive. We stood in her kitchen and I felt like we were spinning, spinning faster than I had felt in a while. We had just started nursing school together, how did we end up having adult parties in houses that we are renting? How did we have friends that we could get together and bullshit around with? Why was I able to walk into a crowd of strangers I didn’t know and feel completely at ease? It rushed at me and I felt the familiar sense of panic; told me to run. My parasympathetic system was on high alert. screaming danger. I was a mess.
By Jazzy 5 years ago in Humans
Pixie With A Gun
Pixie With A Gun Jacob Evans was five six and rail thin with a face like Howdy Doodie, round and freckly and always with a goofy grin. He was also tough as nails and humped his shit as well as any man in the company, never complaining and when the shooting started he was always there, firing away, bringing ammo, throwing grenades, carrying the wounded to cover.
By Samuel Dana5 years ago in Humans
Love Letters from Heather
Dear Steve, I was 11 years into my career when I put in for a transfer from a tiny rural school just outside Alliston to join forces at the brand-new educational establishment in Alcona. The idea of being part of something fresh and exciting piqued my interest.
By Heather Down5 years ago in Humans
Butterscotch
BUTTERSCOTCH Alex Munoz was surprised when he learned the first stop was a club in the meatpacking district, a place called Shine. At this hour, the line of people waiting behind the rope to get in was short. Isabelle asked him to wait for her. To his surprise, she spoke one word to the bouncer at the door and he let her in. She emerged a moment later and got back in the cab.
By Peter Nelson5 years ago in Humans
Quench
“A word can be a friend. You, for example. You, Quench. Yes, I am talking to you. You could be my friend. If you wake up, come alive, jump from the page, you may discover new worlds. You are adaptable, and often charming. You capture the attention of some readers. And I have the ability to bring you alive in my stories. I may find a place for you today. I'm not sure. I might use you in my writing today, or maybe tomorrow. Don’t go away."
By Everett James Marwood5 years ago in Humans
Slice of Heaven
Slice of Heaven Diner, Chicago, January 1988 “I’m sorry Sir, I’ll be right back!”, Jenny called, as she ran to grab the lukewarm chili dog sat on the counter.
By Charlotte5 years ago in Humans
Finders Keepers
The Parisian night was frosty, as the ferris wheel came to a halt, mid cycle. Briony and her little friend George were unquestionably an odd pair. He was a child actor working on a joint French/Australian film production and she, a budding actress older in years, but smaller in stature, lacked the confidence that he and his youth exuded, was waiting for her lucky break. Meantime, living in Paris her contacts had resulted in a gig as a errands runner in the production George was currently acting in.
By Dimity Jane Wehr5 years ago in Humans
10 Hours in Vegas
10 Hours in Vegas (Or, How I Nearly Killed My Future Husband) I looked out the window of the plane as it pushed back from the gate and began its trip to the runway. My hand was gripped suddenly and I looked at my best friend seated next to me with the most panicked look in his eyes that I’ve ever seen. He was pale under the already pale makeup on his face, if you can imagine that.
By Krystle Vigil5 years ago in Humans
The Train Ride of a Lifetime
Dear Analise, It's my final two days on this train before I reach home. The trip has been long but I believe it will have been worth it. Mr. Platt seemed to like the business opportunity that was suggested by us. Hopefully, that means our farm will soon begin to see more profit. I'm writing this letter so close to being home because I feel like there is something special about this train. The people are as kind as usual, the conductor has a smile on his face, yet I cannot quite put my finger on what it is about this train that makes me settle in a way that I have not done since I've been home. Maybe it's the way the train has the faintest rumble, the way it vibrates subtly, or possibly even the scenery of this route. If I figure it out I'll make sure to let you know.
By Shari Baeuerlen5 years ago in Humans
The Boy in The Casket
We hadn't spoken in perhaps 4 years, and here I was, at his funeral. For the first time in my life (but, as it would turn out, not the last) we were burying one of our own at the age of 19.
By Elena Brooks5 years ago in Humans