humanity
For better or for worse, relationships reveal the core of the human condition.
Her Feet Hurt
Her feet already hurt. She was not sure how many more of these days she could endure. However, since the rent was due in two days, the obvious answer was at least two more. A small run of bad luck had left her without a car, a shattered cell phone and very few resources. If she could just get through the rest of month, it was bound to get better. It HAD to get better.
By Dorothy Prophet5 years ago in Humans
A Chance to Give
The sun beaming through the windows bathed Layne’s tiny office in warmth. It was one of the many perks of working for a small firm; his office was likely a repurposed janitorial closet, but at a larger firm he would’ve been in some open space concept making sales calls with fifty others. Layne frowned at that thought. He shouldn’t be making sales calls at all. The firm had originally hired him as a supply chain analyst, but had eliminated several positions, including his, about five months ago. Layne was intimidated by the sales job, but he figured he’d rather learn than spend his savings paying the rent. He’d quickly discovered he had a knack for sales, which made him proud. It was 4 in the afternoon on Thursday—his weekend was about to start. He had tomorrow off as a bonus for high sales last quarter. He started tidying up documents on his desk and checking emails to make sure no issues had cropped up.
By Farah Thompson5 years ago in Humans
A Book Called Karma
A Book Called Karma Copyright 2021, Lisa Kuehl, all rights reserved. There once was a wealthy philanthropist named Stephan Beck who was nearing the end of his life, and though he had helped many people, and forged many projects to build up communities around the world, and to help those in need, he felt the need to do one last dramatic act of generosity. He had been donating all of his money, and he had $20,000 left that he wanted to give away, and he wanted to give it to someone very deserving, someone whom he could see proving their worth through an act of kindness, selflessness or generosity. He wasn’t precisely clear on what he was looking for, but he was sure that he would know it when he encountered it, and recognize that person when the time was right.
By Lisa Kuehl5 years ago in Humans
Haircut & Cigarette
I had a bunch of stupid little things to do that day. It was the kind of day that doesn’t belong to you and for some reason it was creeping under my skin. I decided, abruptly on my way out the front door, that I wasn’t going to do it, any of it. Instead, I chose to get a haircut. My friend once told me that a hair cut and a new pair of shoes will make a new man. I’ve got those expensive boots that last a lifetime so I don’t need new shoes, but at least I can get half-way there and feel a bit of dapper breeze on my neck. I remember thinking, I’m confiscating the day; I’m taking it back from the mundane. The barbershop is one of those sacred sort of endeavors. I usually cut my own hair, but every once in a while l like to get a clean slate from the professional, Geom. It’s relaxing to sit under the drape and listen to all the chattering and buzzing of the blades. Also, at some point you always get a good laugh at a barbershop.
By Jef Bredemeier5 years ago in Humans
The riddle
The riddle Today is the day. I've been waiting for so long for this day to come, it's almost unbelievable… I hope this is not a dream, someone pinch me...! My body is fueled by these mixed feelings. Happiness, fear, shock, they’re all hitting every inch of my brain, but I can do it. This is the final act and the curtain's about to go up, so brace yourselves! You must be discombobulated right now, so allow me to bore you with the story of my life and try not to pity me! I was born in South Tucson, Arizona, and this place cannot really be described as a fountain of wealth and opportunities, ask whoever you want. I am an only child, as my parents fell apart due to financial problems and their toxic lack of ambition. As you can imagine, I did not have much, nor done anything significant with my life. I am not the smartest neither the bravest, but I have realized something: money can actually buy happiness. "He is a hypocrite" you might say, but no! I know I’m right! Money can buy happiness and money can ruin love…pure love, like it did to my parents. It was not about us anymore, it was all about the money, what my mother spent, what my father earned, what I have not contributed with, and how I was a mere waste of money for the people I loved the most. As I said, do not pity me, it's getting better…and I am getting worse, so buckle up! Now it would be the best timing for me to tell you about my mother's sister: Lucia. Unlike all the people I know, she had it all: looks, ambition, power….and money. I always thought she was an angel sent on earth to put an end to my misery, and today I'll be the one to inherit all of her wealth and power. Oh, I forgot to mention, silly me. Lucia passed away. I suppose loneliness hits a woman's heart like a hammer, and she faded away day by day, right in front of my eyes. You might call me slightly evil, maybe a monster, but I need to confess to you…I was waiting for her to finally leave this world. It’s not greed or jealousy; I simply believe that creating an empire was her mission…so I could enjoy it later on. I would call it my birthright, but you are free to judge.
By Bianca Mares5 years ago in Humans
The Little Black Book
Money is a fickle thing when you think about it. The green beast known as the dollar is something that controls more aspects of our lives than most of us realize. It pays for the food you eat, the water you drink, the roof over your head, our happiness, and that overpriced coffee you argued was an earned treat for yourself.
By Kayla Hicks5 years ago in Humans
Like Any Other Day
Like any other day, I sat at my favorite table at the coffee shop across from my apartment building. It’s so peaceful here early in the morning. There’s not many people, so you can hear some people’s conversations. For example, a women and a man came in and were talking about when they used to be a couple. The man was smiling as he sunk down in his chair a little when she said “it was good that we had ended things, I much rather like being friends instead.” I’d have to say he didn’t reciprocate her feelings about their relationship. At a different table two women dressed in suits were talking about their busy lives. How being mothers and having jobs can be tough. Speaking of I think I see them come complain about their husbands here about once a month. They must be pretty busy, however not as busy as the older woman shouting at the cashier, that the coffee she received isn’t the one she ordered and she’s got an appointment to be going too. I feel bad for Jeannie, I’ll usually leave her a nice tip especially when I see her having to deal with people like that. I write all of this inside my little black notebook. I do this for fun. So I had finished my coffee and headed off to work. I was tired of that job. I was always on verge of being fired for just doing my job. Today was the day they had to make an example out of someone and I was that someone. So I drove back home without a job. I had gone home and I had a date so I showered and put on my “going on a date” clothes and went to go pick her up. I got to her house and when she opened the door. She was in a robe and her hair was a mess. She said she was sorry that she forgot to call and cancel because she had gotten sick. I said it was fine and that I hoped she felt better soon. I was already dressed to go out so I went to a bar and met up with some friends. The night had gone by so fast and before I knew it I was in my bed at home. I woke up with the most terrible hangover and no recollection of what happened the night before. I took a shower and got dressed. I was getting ready to go to the coffee shop. My little black notebook was gone. In its place was an envelope addressed to me. Inside the envelope was five thousand dollars in cash. I have no clue why or how I received this money. Did I sell my little black book? I never told anyone about what I wrote in the little black book so who could’ve known and who would’ve wanted it so bad that they’d give me five thousand dollars. So I went to the coffee shop and couldn’t find it anywhere. I listened to the people and no one was talking about anything related to it. I felt lost without it. Jeannie walked over and asked me why I wasn’t writing this morning? I said that it seems I had lost my little black notebook. She said you mean the one I bought from you last night as she held my little notebook in her hand. I said “you bought it? How did you have five thousand dollars?” She said “all the times you had given me extra money for having to deal with terrible customers over the last five years.” I asked her why she would do that. She said,”last night at the bar, you said you got fired and I’ve always wanted to read what you write in this little notebook of yours. I figured five thousand dollars would help you and be an acceptable price to read the notebook.” I tried to say five thousand was too much. She still wouldn’t take it back. She left the little black notebook on the table. I flipped to what would’ve been the next blank page and she had written a morning about me. With her number down at the bottom of page.
By Amanda Jones5 years ago in Humans
Amazing Grace
Penn Station had the usual frantic feel of an ant colony under attack, but this was just another Wednesday in mid-Winter, nothing special just another day to fight through. I hurtled through Penn’s underbelly with its morning crush of commuters; everyone stuck in their own head, oblivious to the world around them. Eyes down, earphones in, playing dodgem with other commuters, but without ever making eye contact.
By Emily Price5 years ago in Humans
Between Here and There
She let out a sigh of relief when her client crossed the threshold as she felt the man was on to her. The client got up from the velveteen upholstered armchair and strode out into yet another rainy San Francisco afternoon. He wasn’t a regular, thank god. Her regulars would not have stood for the performance she just cobbled together. Well, David, your aunt tells me she is proud of the man you have become. “What was that?” she demanded of herself. The various mauve tapestries and oriental rugs strewn around the studio dampened her outburst. Ever since that woman called her a hack last week, she hadn’t been able to tap the signal. The pathways to the other side were constricted and every tether she cast into the ether returned with loose traces to the physical world. That woman wasn’t wrong, a psychic with no connection was a hack, but that wasn’t her. She poured herself a glass of whiskey from the vintage cocktail cart by the staircase. “At least I still know how to call on one spirit.” Her particular brand of celestial humor that had secured loyal clientele in the city for over a decade couldn’t distract from the feeling that something was irrevocably off.
By Emma Smith 5 years ago in Humans
