humanity
For better or for worse, relationships reveal the core of the human condition.
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
I'm Not A Kid Anymore
“Back in the day when I was young, I’m not a kid anymore But some days, I sit and wish I was a kid again”--- Ahmad Utica Avenue was concrete and Caribbean accents. As long as I’d known myself, it was a long stretch littered with roti shops and dollar vans, always abuzz. The ‘U’ never did make an “uh” sound. Always, and I do mean, always an “OO” sound ...”OOTICA, OOTICA,” the Jamaican, or sometimes, Haitian heavy-tongued dollar-van drivers would bellow. I often suspected that some of them—-those heavy-tongued men—- were neither Jamaican or Haitian or Caribbean at all. They were just Brooklyn boys who grew up knowing it, hearing it —it just was— "OOTICA.” It was never up for debate, it just was.
By Melissa Matthews5 years ago in Humans
Legacy of the Sea: Chapter One, Part One
“That went better than I expected.” “Are you saying you didn’t think I could do it?” turning, I glanced at Martin. “I’m not saying that,” the man said. His weathered face wrinkled as he smirked at me, and his white hair was tugged playfully by the light breeze.
By Tristan Palmer5 years ago in Humans
Smooth Seas Don't Make Good Sailors.
I stood motionless, my breath painting pictures in the cold night air, waiting, waiting, for the energy to move. That gut wrenching feeling in my stomach, the one I'd come to be so familiar with showed no signs of letting go. A car honked its horn. People bustled past. The world had moved on.
By Paul Heder5 years ago in Humans
A Crack in My Windshield
I don’t remember how the windshield crack began. At some point, some bit of something from the road had struck it just right to set it in place. Initially, it was just a short jagged line. Then it slowly meandered its way across the entire windshield.
By Shawn Ingram5 years ago in Humans
The River
As the waves crashed near our feet, I looked at the soaking wet girl that I had just saved. I had no idea who she was or how she ended up in the harsh current of that river. All I knew was I had to save her and I didn't want to let her go. I didn't understand why, but there was this connection. A connection I had never experienced before, but one I knew I could not lose.
By Alicia Lenea5 years ago in Humans
The Temperamental Resonance of Squidward Tentacles
It’s funny, just like the genre of the show itself, how our childhood appreciation of ‘Spongebob Squarepants’ – our once giddy adoration for the animated protagonist – is, in adulthood, bewitched to that of an antithesis, where we find more temperamental solidarity with its bitter antagonist, Squidward Tentacles, than we do with show’s eponymous hero, of whom we may retrospectively view, in our more cynical and adult moments, as an idealistic Pollyanna of epic, fictive proportions.
By Brandon Lever5 years ago in Humans
A Mudlark Remembers
A man is standing on the lip of the Thames with a watch in his hand, gripped tight. There is a girl behind him. She knows not to go too close, she knows he is crying. His back has broadened to hide the shame of his emotion. She can see the constriction in his muscles from where she is stood. There is a faint sound of gulls and heavy machinery but its deadened by thick London fog.
By Nathalie Limon5 years ago in Humans
Life And Death
Death. A simple word – five letters but fills the consciousness with dread. It is a morbid thought, yet it draws the curiosity and interest of so many. Perhaps because it is inevitable, unavoidable, and what we cannot avoid, we explore. The thought of it sent a chill down my spine and riddled me with trepidation, but as I matured – and continuing to do so – I learned to regard it as a symbol of power and even contentment. People around me disregard the change I have undergone, maybe because I know in a way that they never can.
By Zain Rehan5 years ago in Humans
Rules of Breakup
Stress hallucinations, the shimmering treetops haze before me, my breathing is laboured, I whisper to the vase space of nothing, “don’t give up”. The swift gust captures between the ridges and savannah basin as the balmy wind whips around my face and hair. I feel a refreshing relief giving me a spurt of coolness. I take a small gulp of water from my thermal canister. The magnificent cliff looms above me, my clambering down this ridge seems like an eternity. Overwhelmed with sweat, screaming pain from my muscles and dread. I wonder, what possessed me? why am I here? the brochure said “a quest for paradise” deception. I look out at the vast landscape before me and speculate, am I going to die? The image in my head of a deadly fall, my body spiralling down the amass. I am desperate to control my fear in a dire need for preservation. My guide ahead, calls into my consciousness, “everybody alright?” I think, “this is not the spiritual realm of the rainforest paradise I imagined, the eternal bliss of elevation”. My focus drills back into the harsh reality of manoeuvring my foot to safety, I shout back, “Ok”, I persist my journey down.
By Shanie Walker5 years ago in Humans
