humanity

For better or for worse, relationships reveal the core of the human condition.

Toward No Earthly Pole
James limped toward the manor, dodging a coach as it barreled down the cobblestone road. The horses never once slowed as they trotted over the stones, iron shoes echoing. It had taken James weeks to find the home of Lady Hartfield. Captain Hartfield had spoken often of his country manor, but he hadn’t mentioned the one in the city, the one his wife had apparently preferred. James couldn’t image having one house let alone two. He was renting a single room from a local family of cotton spinners, a garret bedroom he couldn’t properly stand up in with gaps in the walls that whistled when the freezing wind blew through, his tiny coal stove not enough to heat it.
By Lauren Triola5 years ago in Humans
The Sand Dark Sea
In that moment, with the sun against her cheek and the wind furious in her hair, she became more than just that morning. She became my every morning. Dasha was not one of those women who could stop you in your tracks, but if you did stop for a second glance, you would see beyond the wilt of the sun and the red bite of the wind. Like the dark blue in the deeper parts of the southern seas, her eyes would catch you and hold you. Her face was round and kind, the succulent beauty typified by Florentine visual expression, not the bone juts and hard lines of a runway culture. She was hearty and strong like the country of her birth. For me, others before, and others to come, Norway had always been a place of far northern mystique.
By Mack Devlin5 years ago in Humans
Evening Rain
Twilight always seemed bleakest in the warmer months on the coast of Delaware. At least they were bleak for Jamie, anyways. It was a long stretch from his youth, the days of no sun and nights of no heat, but still, it felt the same. Ever since he lost his wife he’d been a wreck. The last three years were rough for him and he’d been trying all he could to keep himself from falling apart completely. Today was the anniversary of her death, three full years since the disease that took her mother and her aunt had taken her too.
By Nola Kalapacs5 years ago in Humans
The Angry Benevolent Face in the Skies
Benton Cross graduated Summa cum laude with a degree in Maritime History from Old Dominion University. Soon after, he sought a publishing house or the financing to self-publish a book titled The Graveyard of the Atlantic. For almost a year, Benton mailed query letters and submitted his premise for a book highlighting shipwrecks and the supernatural in and around the eastern sea coast of North Carolina. For weeks, the postal service delivered multiple rejection letters. Finally, a small Mom and Pop publishing company headquartered in the Ozark Mountains expressed interest and pledged to publish the book, promote it and provide five hundred hardback copies for $5,000 upfront. For a recent college graduate, this amount was out of the question. The book, "Shipwrecks, Survivors, and the Spectral," would remain a dream as he focused on research.
By Bryan R..5 years ago in Humans
Choosing What To Sea
There's a ship far off on the horizon, and all I can think about is who might be on it. Is it a boy and his dad who only get every other weekend together? Maybe they like to go out at sea so they can drown out the rest of the world, and just enjoy each other's company for what little time they have.
By Emily Bartlett5 years ago in Humans
The Seven Year Switch
Have you ever set yourself on a path that you thought, without a shadow of a doubt, would be the right one? After spending years, and thousands of dollars on that path, you almost talk yourself into thinking it's the correct one even if it isn't, because the alternative is scarier. You don't want to think that everything was done for nothing and that the degree (or degrees in my case) that you've been working on for so long are nothing more than an expensive piece of wall decor. It's a hard pill to swallow, especially when the truth has been there beneath the surface for years, but you thought that by not acknowledging it, it would go away.
By Abby W5 years ago in Humans
Variola, Variola, Variola.
It started with a boat. Through the waving branches, beyond the icy blue of the great water. Floating on the horizon.
By Jude Vain5 years ago in Humans
Castaway Destiny
I laughed at my foolishness. Could it be mine? I regretted my cynicism. Perhaps, this year, I dared. My mind raced back to the day the ship set sail. I was among a crowd of faces I didn’t care to know. No names, we all held the same page. Pens and pencils, scribbled and calligraphy, jumbled thoughts and perfect verses; these pages held the dream of each soul that dared to tempt the fates and set sail with the ship.
By Diana Hayes5 years ago in Humans
FEAR OF CHANGE
Watching the hate, racism, homophobia, and xenophobia openly plaguing our nation nowadays, I realized to my surprise I was brought up to be just like that. I spent a few years in the South American nation where I was born, and aside from a different language, principles and bottom line are so much alike that it boggles the mind. We are taught to dread everything that is different, we are taught to fear change, there are names, usually, demeaning to designate members of a different culture. Dismissing insult as nothing but a jest. As far as any gay individual, they are outright insulted with disgust and condemned to hell, if such horrendous behavior is not curved. And of course, religion, is shoved down our throats as the only true way by which to exist, and abide by teachings, that superior being demands from us all, otherwise, be sent to that place of extreme suffering, pain, and hopelessness…Does this place seem familiar?
By Pedro A. Idarraga5 years ago in Humans
Take a Deep Breath
Alyssa woke up to the sound of wind blowing through the newly burgeoning buds of the trees coming out of winter hibernation. Sitting on the edge of my bed, she looked out the window of her ground floor bedroom to see the sun-kissed dew drops glistening on the grass and the jaunty squirrels and birds collecting their morning meal.
By Arya5 years ago in Humans
Wet Paint!
A few months ago, I was preparing for our first open house, after years of renovating our home was almost ready to go on the market. One Friday night after the electrician left and with day light fading, I decided that it was the perfect time to paint front steps for the open home in the morning.
By Cassie Ford5 years ago in Humans
Misdemeanor Turned Manslaughter
Terry Randolph was a good, God fearing man, father of two daughters whom he adored. The girls’ mother wasn’t very fond of him, her broken heart wouldn’t allow her to stop hurting him. Hurt people hurt people. They’re relationship remained strained through the years but his bond with his little girls grew strong through their daily activities. They fed ducks, rode bikes, made homemade ice cream cones, read books, cooked and did their extra “daddy homework”. Terry liked to expand on the lessons the girls were learning, taking them one step farther.
By Cam Rascoe5 years ago in Humans