humanity

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

Kismet, Coffee and A Little Black Book
James shook her phone letting out an exasperated cry. The battery was almost dead and she, just three days new to the city, was utterly lost. And on top of that, her first story for her dream job, a writer for the trendy Rambler paper and website, was due tomorrow. She never thought she’d be able to make a living writing, then out of nowhere, after months of applying to jobs across the country, she got a call from the editor of The Rambler.
By Erica Lee5 years ago in Humans
The Delivery
She was jolted awake by a loud noise. It was a familiar sound but in her sleepy stupor it took a moment to recognise it. She checked the time.
By Kate Lawson Gould5 years ago in Humans
The Pursuit
I always play jazz with my eyes closed. Partly because I know that music is shy, won’t come out if it thinks it’s being watched. Partly, I admit, because I learned somewhere that’s just what saxophone players do. And partly (maybe mostly) to avoid having to look at my surroundings: the grime-gray concrete of the subway steps, the yellowish plaque between the cracked wall-tiles, the scanty flutter of coins and ones that don’t even come close to filling the upturned fedora at my feet.
By Nora Studholme5 years ago in Humans
Crisp Air
The car resonated with Meat Loaf’s I’d Do Anything for Love. She shot him an annoyed look out of the corner of her eye and turned the volume down. Squinting like he had just glimpsed a solution to a long-standing problem somewhere above the steering wheel, he bit his lip and turned the volume back up.
By Ivana Danilovic5 years ago in Humans
Things In My Bag
I carry a lot of things around with me - everything from tissues, gum and money to a book to read in unexpected free moments, spare keys and a first aid kit. I am constantly sorting out my bag. I sort the different items into categories and rearrange which of the many pockets various things go in. My bag will be perfectly organized until the first time I open it that day; at a store or while in the car and suddenly needing something or other. Then all hell breaks loose. I pull money or a credit card out of my wallet and do not put the change back in its designated slot. I fish around for tissues and dislodge all of the carefully placed items around them. I stuff receipts and quickly scribbled notes into any old pocket and figure I will re-sort my bag later in the day.
By Margaret Chaisson5 years ago in Humans
Destiny's Call
I never expected to gain So Much at such a bargain. I was in it for the love of the hunt, yet somehow I knew my day that day wasn’t ordinary, but it was oddly familiar. As I strolled the isles of our local flea market, I saw many of my old colleagues. See, I had once had a Friday/Saturday store there. I knew all of the vendors, some of them being my closest friends, and well, since moving into the newly rented space in the newly built strip mall, I guess it was seen as a lateral move. I had made it! But my highs were stifled, and the fall of failure could be devastating, this dichotomy of high and low was always in focus in the town I was raised. My old friends and colleagues didn’t know I was struggling to get by. Every week I spent hours trying to find new ways to stay afloat. I had maybe a few months left to get it right, but my confidence was waning. My business concept was solid, my items one of a kind, but unsurprisingly, The pandemic had really hit us hard. Being that people were stuck at home, at first they really wanted to bring the beauty of great finds into their homes, but as the months dragged on, people struggled-and so did we.
By Amanda Dorsey5 years ago in Humans
The Mirrored Books
December 22, 1970 The last of the pages from the little black book turned to ash, its gleaming but well-worn cover starting to follow suite. A few moments later, it too ceased to exist. The little girl got up from her hiding place in the catacombs of the church and rushed over to her mentor as he lay slumped against the altar, broken and bloodied. He looked saint-like, bathed in moonlight through the gaps in the stained-glass windows. She put her hand on his cheek and kissed his forehead. A single tear trickled down her dark brown cheek. His skin was cold to the touch, a brutal end for a benevolent man. She said her final goodbye and rushed to the church door stealing one last look before disappearing into the frigid night.
By Shahzad Bhiwandiwala5 years ago in Humans
The Visitor
“Erik,” Stephanie’s voice echoed down the foyer of their single-story beach rambler. “There’s a man at the door asking for you.”
By Kris Breaux5 years ago in Humans
My Louise
For as long as I can remember, my Louise has been my whole life. She is a complicated and difficult woman who makes up for it with her intelligence and beauty and the most magical charm. This charm wins her many adoring friends, but she repeatedly chases them away with her conflicting actions and her temper. Through it all, I am by her side, shocked that I haven’t been chased away myself.
By Sascha Steinberg5 years ago in Humans
Kicks
I stared down at my kicks. Simple, no-name things. Worn. Blue and serviceable. They’d lasted many, many months. I’m not certain where I got them… the thrift store? Some friend who’s feet kind of were near my size? It didn’t matter now; they had protected my feet for hundreds of miles of biking and walking to and from my many jobs; they’ll last another bit.
By Jen Juhasz5 years ago in Humans
Maeve’s Morning
Maeve felt the cool of the morning penetrate the thick downy jacket she wore and her jeans did even less to keep her warm. She thought back to a moment similar to this nearly a year ago. The fresh morning air had a different effect on her then and she reflected on the irony that while she was poorer she was also warmer, better prepared for the cold. Maeve was less accustomed to the bitter dawn having lived within the four walls of a house for the last 11 months rather than the substandard shelter of an alley or a shop front. She remembered the day that had changed her life entirely.
By Liv Field5 years ago in Humans
lonely waffles
Macy grew up with one rule and one rule only: Never, and that means never, ever, talk to a stranger when you are alone. Especially a man. And even more especially, an old one. Her mom told her she’d be inviting trouble into her life and she’d understand when she was older.
By Caitlin E Sammons5 years ago in Humans