humanity
For better or for worse, relationships reveal the core of the human condition.
Be The Change
The little black book watched the woman carefully. It had been waiting for this moment, having been remarkably patient, watching event after event unfold. It had wanted so badly to interfere but knew the outcome of the situation must unmask itself naturally. The time had now come for the truth to reveal itself, uncovering whether the lesson it had been trying to teach, had been learned, or if its entire existence had been for nothing.
By Rikki-Lee Carlson Hill5 years ago in Humans
Open for Business
Savor this day, he told himself. Savor this day. The sun had started rising and light threatened to creep in. He took a long, deep and purposeful breath in through his nostrils. There was the sweetness of the yeast, the earthy spice of the cinnamon and the slight hint of nuttiness from the flour. Layered on top of the pride for his work – a sense of professionalism he carried with him wherever he went – there was an extra tingle of excitement. He tested the ring of the doorbell and took the sign gently in his fingertips, turning it slowly to declare the place open. Today was reopening day.
By Anthony Brockbank5 years ago in Humans
As children we are set up for disappointment
When I was a child there frequently came the question “what do you want to be when you grow up?” I was only in primary school but the conversation began there. This is also where the seed of hope was planted that would eventually rot, lifeless, instead of growing into a healthy plant.
By Eloise Robertson 5 years ago in Humans
Abandoned
Small town life had never been anything special. If you drove far enough to the west, you could stumble across some hills. But go too far, and it continued on to become flat brown fields and dust. Bland and tasteless; home of manufacturers that bulldozed and demolished what little history might have been salvageable. Miles of gravel roads turned into miles of dirt roads, back to gravel, and eventually pavement.
By Linda Wiebe5 years ago in Humans
The Dreamweaver
The sound of the purple, yellow, and green flag perched on the balcony awning outside was flapping in the early morning breeze. It wasn’t overbearing, but it was enough to stir Dre awake from her sleep and the dream that she was having. It had been this way for the last few months ever since she found herself sleeping on the sofa in her best friend’s tiny, one bedroom apartment. Dre looked around in the dim light and spotted her journal on the tattered coffee table. She forced herself to get up, grabbed the notebook and a pen, opened the balcony door, and stepped outside. Settling into the wicker futon, Dre found the next blank page and began to journal her latest dream.
By Laurie Leigh 5 years ago in Humans
The Woman in the Notebook
The morning’s flurry of activity had exhausted him; this morning was like all others. But now began one of his favorite rituals: reading the morning paper. He sighed heavily as he took his seat on the commuter train and quickly opened his newspaper so that no one would strike up conversation. It was such a disappointment when someone chatty sat beside him and he felt obligated to engage. “Monday, June 3, 1935...”— and he was lost to his surroundings. He timed his reading perfectly; he could read the entire front page before the train would arrive at Paddington Station. However, an article detailing a volatile but rallying stock market grabbed his attention. As a bank president, he had been consumed by the global depression, and he was hungry for good news. He glanced out the window while deep in thought. Almost too late, he realized the train was at the station. Swiftly, he swung his legs out of his seat, tripping a young lady who was hurrying to exit the train. She could not brace her fall and fell facedown. Overcome by embarrassment, she avoided looking at anyone, and quickly she straightened her hat, grabbed her handbag, and scurried to the platform. Try as he might to apologize, the gentleman could not catch her. At the end of the aisle, an elderly woman grabbed the sleeve of his coat, and said, “Here, Mister. She dropped this.” In his hands, the woman placed a little black notebook.
By Rebecca Hayes5 years ago in Humans
The Wizard's Little Black Book Of Security
Liam sat despondent, looking somewhat dishevelled as he explained his dilemma. The therapist, Sarah, nodded as he talked about his security job. He had an appointment just before he had to go back to his job agency, and was fretting. People had been depressed, and anxious, and taking out their frustrations on each other since being allowed back into bars in Australia after the COVID-19 pandemic.
By Veronica Woodward5 years ago in Humans
The Spirit of a Leo
There are 12 zodiac signs that have been shuffled throughout the planet and I was lucky enough to be born a Leo. I believe I embody the spirit of a Leo due to the way I carry myself and love others. Despite Leo’s notorious attributes of being selfish, arrogant and dominant, Leo’s can be one of the most beautiful, most loving people you will ever come across (inside and out)
By Isabelle Loobie5 years ago in Humans
Hope
The bag itself screamed rich, leather; soft as butter dyed a deep amber. It was like a holdall but smaller, two handles. Basically what wealthy people took to the gym only it wasn't monogrammed and didn't smell like crappy men's eau de toilette. It smelt new, brand new, and it was at least half full and that's why I had no problem sliding it over from under the seat in front of me and casually picking it up as I walked off the bus. Well that and I also thought whoever left it didn't seem to have much use for the contents anymore, otherwise why leave it? Really, they were just asking for trouble. It somehow did not occur to me the damn thing could’ve been a bomb or something until I was about to open it. Literally the second my hand touched the gold zip. Right then was the moment my brain clicked. What were you supposed to do with unattended luggage on a crowded bus? Report it to the police or pick it up? Dumb and Dumber both shouldve all been played by me right then. So I hesitated, for a minute just holding the cool metal between my fingertips. Was it too late to not open the bag? Did I hear any ticking noises from inside? No and no. I let go. I put the bag down carefully on the concrete of the underground parking lot I was currently in. Home sweet home. The only place sort of warm enough and dry enough to set up for the night, I'd found a little spot away from the cameras and close enough to the stairs to make a quick getaway if anyone started poking around my humble abode and set up camp. Looking at the fancy bag next to the old ratty sleeping bag and musty pillow I called a bed I figured a bomb might actually be an improvement.
By Sancha Grant5 years ago in Humans
The Strong and The Faithless
The spotlight in the small arena lit us like we were performers, not fighters. Shadows and yellow light made every moment look like either a sepia or noir painting, but I couldn’t enjoy it in that artistic way. The room itself was dusty, dank, dark, and full of rambunctious people. It was the kind of room that gave you the feeling you weren’t supposed to be there.
By Moses F. Merino5 years ago in Humans
