humanity

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

The Desert Girl and the Deep
I was still in bed when the first explosion went off. We had been told to prepare so I was mostly dressed. I jumped into my shoes and grabbed my pack. The second explosion took out the power grid and the hallway was dark. A woman carrying a child careened off me as I headed to the stairs. Plaster was raining down as the stairway filled with panicked guests.
By Gaylon Emerzian5 years ago in Humans
The Eternal Dilemma
He sat there with his lonesome self. Although he still had a glimmer of hope inside, he remembered he sat with his two best friends — Stella on his right; Mary on his left. It was the subtle manipulation of how he categorized and defined things that kept the flicker of hope alive. And it was this faint light at the edge of tomorrow that kept him trudging on.
By SocrateZ5 years ago in Humans
Written in the Stars
On September 18th at 9:24 am and 22 seconds, my own personal universe was created, the one inside of me at least, the one in which I’m the sun and the planets in astrology, including the signs surrounding me. On that day I was considered what the concept of astrology would deem a Virgo.
By Summer Baldwin5 years ago in Humans
The Hardest Thing To Ask
August was tired. That was the only way to describe what he felt through his monotonous daily trudge through his monotonous daily life. He wasn’t depressed anymore, he wasn’t angry at the lack of progress or the inevitability of his failure at any goal, he was just tired. Ironically, he couldn’t sleep. He was supposed to be someone reliable and dependable, a relative genius who outshone all of the small people from his small town that he wanted to be nothing like. He was destined for bigger and better things, yes he was. Until he realized he wasn’t. He was just like everyone else, and all the hopes and beliefs his family wanted him to shoulder were ill-placed.
By Richard Belarde5 years ago in Humans
The Journal of Extraordinary Tales
November 27, 2006 We all walk paths that diverge at a crossroads. We make choices that open every new door that we step through. In this case, it was a window for me. A window of opportunity, if you will. It all started on a typical day that ultimately became a pivotal moment that would change the rest of my life for the extraordinary. Something so simple as the need to go to the library. It was approximately 8:45 am. It was November and chilly. Fall had finally changed the leaves' color and surrounded the town in hues of reds, oranges, and yellows. As I walked down the street, I gazed towards the older buildings noting how tarnished they looked, and with a bit of TLC, the town could revive their beauty.
By Anicka Winfield5 years ago in Humans
Covering the Fare
I’m not a bad guy. I just have a bad job. When people die, I am there. I reap their souls—not with a scythe; that equipment was retired long ago. A clipboard is a lot less intimidating.
By Teresa Boykin 5 years ago in Humans
The Customer
Being a waitress in one of the most popular diners in my part of town, I have the privilege to come in contact with so many interesting faces. You have the customers that think of you as a pet and speak to you as such, loosely supervised children who view me as nothing more than a food bullseye and a manager that passively aggressively encourages harder work--as if I am not working hard as a radiator as is. Most people come in, eat their food and leave. Some people may even leave a tip, in their unfinished food. One customer, though, was very different.
By Drayshawn Kerford5 years ago in Humans
Sunset on Campus
The quiet light from the old desk lamp shone on the old wooden desk in his dorm room. He enjoyed keeping the overhead lights off; it carried a certain feeling with the contrasting light and shadows. He had just taken a cold shower after the gym, and had the single window open to the oncoming evening. He turned his head to look out towards the campus lawns below. There were a couple of groups of people speaking quietly in the dusk. The sound of laughter occasionally splashed across the night sky. Looking West, towards the sunset, the sky was a royal purple, fading into a deep navy the higher it went. Immediately along the horizon, there was an orange hue burning the distant mountains. It reminded him of summer nights back at home. Twinkling fireflies and a sky drenched in starlight. Throwing on a t-shirt, comfortable shorts, and flip flops, he headed out on a pleasure walk around the small college town. The air was rich with the fragrant smell of flowers and freshly cut grass. Sprinklers had turned on all around the campus lawns, making the air humid. The dorms were silhouetted against the oncoming dark now, and small ground lights were beginning to come on. It was a perfect temperature, comfortably warm with a small breeze descended from the mountains. He made a mental note to write about this exquisite evening in his journal. A first year student in college, he had decided to record as much as he could for when he got older. Memories, he had learned, were precious things in life. They could leave just as quickly as they came, and it was only the senses of the events that would remain. A certain smell, the way the light bends around the buildings, or the voices of friends. He walked uninterrupted for a while longer, looking in through the shop windows along main street. Later, back in the dorm, some other guys were playing a card game down the hall. Usually he would join, but tonight he felt like getting to bed earlier. He sat down to check his emails for one last time. Muffled comments about someone cheating and the score drifted into his room. Flipping open his laptop, he checked some messages from work, just coworkers discussing a recent project at work. He worked part-time during school to keep up with the cost of living and tuition; although he still had to take out student loans, like many of his peers. He was paying for himself without help from his parents, which was new for him. Musing over these things, an email caught his eye. The subject was from a drawing he recently entered for scholarship money. He opened it, not expecting more than the usual comments of when the next monthly contest would begin. However, a thrill of excitement began to overcome him as he read on. When entering, he usually kept low expectations, as promises of money attract many competitors. He smiled as he read his name listed as the grand prize winner. He sat stunned for a moment, not believing what he thought he saw. After making sure he was reading it right, he let out a joyful laugh. A victory dance was in order for this occasion, even at the age of 23. Nearly a year of tuition could be paid off. A car, vacation, an apartment, a ring for his girlfriend. The possibilities for twenty thousand dollars seemed endless to a college student. After some celebration with his roommates, they went to bed. Of course, he couldn’t sleep. Reaching behind his head to the top of his desk, he grabbed his black journal. It was a leather imitation journal, designed to be compact. His roommate entered the room from the outside hallway and remarked on the sunset they had earlier. They talked about the coming spring weather, and their individual plans for the weekend for a bit before his roommate fell asleep. Ken recorded the incredible chances of what had happened, and his feelings of overwhelming excitement about the day ahead.
By Daniel T5 years ago in Humans
Cracked earth
Cracked Earth He slowly trudged along the side of the road with his arms crossed behind his back. His worn leather sandals slowly dragged in the sandy dirt of an unpaved road. The tired pair of sandals he wore were too big for his feet, making his big toe uncomfortably rub against the worn straps. His feet often blistered and bled, calloused over, and then blistered all over again. He noticed the beginnings of a hole forming in the sole of the shoe, so he made sure to shift his weight when he walked to avoid putting pressure on it - careful to prevent the hole from further expanding. He knew all too well that wearing his brother's old sandals was better than walking barefoot.
By Shazia Rahman5 years ago in Humans
Count
The sun was just getting to work over Watsessing Park on a warm February morning. Joe decided this would be the perfect time to try his hand at a new fitness routine outdoors. As he worked through it, his belief in exercise as a recourse to a healthier life, waned. Spent, he walked to a bench and plopped on it.
By Moosa Khan5 years ago in Humans
The Experiment
“Look, it’s very simple,” said Dr. Keen, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “All you have to do is decide whether you’re going to keep the $20,000 for yourself, or give half to the participant in the other room. If you both choose to keep it, neither of you gets anything. If you give half away and they don’t, you get to keep what you have left. But if they give half away, and you don’t, you get to keep your own money, plus what they gave to you. Do you understand?”
By Harriet Riley5 years ago in Humans
A Noteworthy Account
The past two weeks had been a constant onslaught of grey, misty, chilly fog, making it somewhat unusual that today, with no warning, had dawned crystal clear with not a cloud in the sky, the air crisp and fragrant with the scent of spring.
By Zainab Rasheed5 years ago in Humans