humanity
For better or for worse, relationships reveal the core of the human condition.
Ditch 'em Denver
“Seriously!?” A question, and an outburst; a single statement loaded with all types of meaning, generally used in the most unreal of moments. Moments just like this one. As I sat there, I asked myself how I ended up here, but I already knew the answer to that. It all started with me being what I like to call “fabulous and frugal.” I’m a girly girl, that likes nice things. Shoes, purses, and fragrances. Dresses and jewelry all the other accoutrements that girls like, but it’s the labels. Dior, Gucci, Tori, and all of my other friends that make life fabulous. The only issue, the price tags. My current employment situation works, just not for my designer desires. Think champagne dreams, wine cooler reality. So, when I saw my last credit card bill, I knew something had to be done; and that something was get additonal income. I know that’s just a nice way of saying I got a second job, but it sounds better, so we’ll go with that.
By Karlene Edwards 5 years ago in Humans
The Little Black Book
How did my life come to this? I asked myself as I tried to stare out through my balcony window which was steamed up because of the cold. Oh how I envied the steamed up window, it was at ease...I didn't remember how that felt like, being at ease. I looked back on to my bed where I had tucked myself in surrounded by envelopes that enclosed bad news and that felt like letting the cat out of the bag when I opened each of them. My credit card, Overdue. My health insurance, Overdue. My Rent, Overdue. All my bills were overdue but at least my landlord was understanding.
By Ropafadzo Thokozani Zinyuke (Fadzo) 5 years ago in Humans
Two Fallen Leaves
The first thing I noticed was the deafening silence. What happened to the sound of the birds chirping? The sounds of the woodland creatures rustling through the blanket of freshly fallen leaves? The crunch of those leaves underfoot as I hastened my approach? Where was the wind that sent whistling crescendos through the creaking canopy of intertwined branches, or the soft whir of the reds and oranges and yellows as they made their slow, lackadaisical descent to the forest floor? Where was my breath, which had been audibly evident in short, steady bursts of rhythmic huffs and puffs as I hiked along through the crisp autumn air? … Was I still breathing?
By Sara Musgrove5 years ago in Humans
Little Black Book
There once lived a boy in a faraway town. He was gifted everything he ever wanted; he didn’t have to lift a finger for he had his parent's wealth. With his wealth, he was able to command respect from his peers at school, in public, and at home. Living every day surrounding himself with only the finest luxuries and filling his room with the thing he loved the most: books. Through his books he could visit distant and bountiful lands, full of adventure maybe even a little mystery, he spends all his time reading like an alcoholic drinking away their life. Every day after leaving the gray-toned halls of the school he would visit a small library compared to his room’s marble walls used solely for bookshelves, this library held both miserable and joyous memories for the boy. In his younger days he faced bullying form his faceless classmates before he wore his mask of confidence, he would only escape them by running into the quite of the palace that held the books. He held onto so dear to his crumbling quaking heart, closing off his heart from the sorrow of socializing with the distant world he called home. All of this came to an end one fateful rainy day, the downpour would change the life of the boy.
By spirit hunter aj5 years ago in Humans
Willow’s HeARTwork
Watercolors. Oils. Pencils. Paper. Canvas. That’s all she needed to be happy. When she was around those things her spirit soared, and time ceased to exist. She felt abundant and blessed when immersed in her tiny studio that doubled as a bedroom. The only telltale sign of a bedroom being a twin bed tucked away in the corner. The rest of the space she reserved for canvas and easel. She cherished her sacred space. When not outdoors drifting on the breeze of daydreams, Willow was sure to be found in her studio. One glance, seemed to reveal all that took place in Willow’s tiny studio bedroom. However, look deeper for there is a cosmic tale. What Willow experienced in her sacred space, only a few knew, but many would find out.
By Stephanie Stanley5 years ago in Humans
Fifty-Year-Old Apples
Suited up in their usual spiel of black and white, carrying these trays and cups to and from, they encircle us. We are ensnared in a prison of a most eccentric design. The hours and minutes may pass freely, that granted, the scenery outside changing and the roads convulsing... Pushing its citizens out of view, anywhere and anytime. Yet these waiters and chefs remain, serving and observing habits as to increase their service quality (customers never move, but are stationary objects; and from the views of chefs behind metal structures they resemble bills).
By Hayden Hartman5 years ago in Humans
Little Black Book
A doorbell rings, catching the man's attention. He gets up from his seat and slowly makes his way to the door. He opens it to be greeted by a smiling man in a white suit holding a big check, with several witnesses and a cameraman in tow. "Moe Kinsel," the suited man asks. Moe looks at everyone for a moment, in confusion, before answering, "yes." The man in the white suit declares, "Congratulations Mr. Kinsel! You have been awarded $20,ooo for your story." Moe, increasingly confused, "what? I don't..." The white suited man cuts him off and leans in, "take it, so we can get going." He gives Moe the check by one end and holds the other, as he smiles for a picture, with Moe completely dumbstruck. The people begin to leave as Moe calls out to them, struggling to find his wording, "wait, I.. I." The man in white waves, "see you later, Moe."
By Adam Franco5 years ago in Humans
A Wellness Check
The glow of Times Square at midnight gave off the strangely warm feeling of sunset. Nestling his beanie over his headphones and throwing up the hood of his jacket that was much too old and much too big, nineteen-year-old Felix leaned into that feeling of digital warmth while the baseline of ‘Come Together’ took him to another place.
By Zachary Peless5 years ago in Humans
Test of Character
Ann, a 27-year-old redhead, poured a steaming cup of coffee and sipped. Today was the first day she had off in the past 10 days, and she was blissfully ready for a lazy day. She carried her mug to the living room and sank into her favorite lounger with a contented sigh.
By Eric McDougall5 years ago in Humans
