literature
Whether written centuries ago or just last year, literary couples show that love is timeless.
A Minor Obsession
“Hey?” I whisper into the quiet darkness of the bedroom, “Are you awake?” He doesn’t answer. Asleep. His steady breath sounds strange and unfamiliar in the intimate ambiance of my bedroom. I poke my finger into his relaxed side and he jumps groaning to a sitting position. Whoops, maybe I poked too hard. “What do you want?” I think he is angry at me for disturbing the glow of his sleep but I say it anyway. “I want to talk.” He sighs, “God, Beth. You always want to talk. Can’t we ever just relax and enjoy some peace? Or sleep? Like people do at night?” Hurt, I turn my back to him pulling the blue blanket that my grandmother made for me up to my chin. “Never mind, then. Just go to sleep. Forget it.” And I deliberately turn some more so that my blanket pulls away, leaving him cold and I can feel him glare at my back. “Yes, I think I will.” He is really mad and he slams his feet down, probably waking the baby that sleeps in the apartment below me, and he stomps to find his clothes in the dark and he swears while he puts them on. He doesn’t say goodbye as he bangs the door shut behind him. I get up to lock it so nobody will come in and steal me. Then I jump back in my bed and pull my knees up to my stomach and nestle into the hollow left by his body. I press my nose into the silky pillowcase with embroidered flowers (Grandma again with the win) and it smells like I him.
By Shelly Slade5 years ago in Humans
That Dark Cloud Still Lingers
8:48 a.m. Sunday I am sitting here trying to figure out how to finish a story I had started around two months ago. I can not figure out what to add to the story as my mind is rushing on just to a type of way on nonsince. I have been writing on "iwriter," in which case I get paid every week on Tuesday's but it isn't much. My experience with the platform so far sucks ass.
By Audie Edwards5 years ago in Humans
Sahirah's Strengthening
A rush of air flowed through the room and a low whisper seemed to come in with it, "Are you always this loud?" came her low tone, arms suddenly risen with chill bumps. To the onlooker, such things would appear as if they came in with the draft, but the truth was electric sensations flowed through her body all because of the static that seemed to linger within the air.
By Sai Marie Johnson5 years ago in Humans
I Have Never Seen a Gray Sky
I have never seen a gray sky. There was always some semblance of a memory of the colors that existed before we were left with simply gray. These were the days when possibilities were of an endless variety and my heart wasn't shattered into crimson fragments. I searched for any trace of some hint of the celestial blue that was present this morning, when the heavens were the perfect flush of daydreams and sunshine still existed in my world. Yet there was no tinge of color to be found other than gray.
By Kiana Livingston5 years ago in Humans
Uptown Downtown
She is from Chelsea and he is from Speke, two very different parts of the UK. Emily meets Daniel on a night out in Liverpool, they like the look of each other, but will their personalities clash? Uptown, Downtown asks the old age question; do opposites really attract? In this tale full of romance and glamour, we go on a journey through Liverpool's night life and explore the youthful bliss of lust & desire. This is a fictional tale, in a realistic setting. Based off the author's own personal experiences with nightclub romance, it is a story that comes straight from the heart. It also includes a lot of the drama and excitement that comes from a night out in Liverpool One.
By Joseph Roy Wright5 years ago in Humans
White Ribbons
Across Ocean At the age of eleven I was taken to the desert. The desert is barren, hot and dry. The sand or as I would call it red dirt, beneath the cracks in my barefoot. I’m sure it would have been quite a sight to see such white skin as we came off the plane. It was such a strange feeling, when I came to this country. The air was just heat, the sun splintering in midday. My eyes were not adjusted to such scorch. Blue like the sky, as blue as the ocean that we had left behind. We flew across the Pacific Ocean, leaving behind salt water, the blue orcas that swam far from view. Blue is a colour that I will always know. I only cried once. And that was when I said goodbye to my family, my grandfather. The bonds that tied us to our country, our customs that would be so far apart from where we would go. How on Easter, with the green grass beneath our feet, we would run and find all the colorful chocolate in our backyards. How the neighbor’s boys would always come around every afternoon, jumping on our two trampolines, and sliding down the hill. On Christmas it would not snow, it would be a sunny day, and the Pohutukawa trees would be blossoming. Red spindles in the branches, they were such a sight. We would go to the beach, dipping our toes into the icy waves. Running up and down the coast. Maybe that’s what I truly missed, what my heart yearned for so many years. When we left New Zealand, it was a choice my mother had asked. I do not know why I said yes so quickly. But maybe I was running from my own pain, grief I did not understand in my youth. But once we left that house at the corner of Nauclea. That would be the beginning of Australia, and the desert.
By Vesselostatsea5 years ago in Humans
Arnold
Arnold is in his seventies now, sitting at his dining room table, trying to write. In his twenties, Arnold was at his prime. He wrote four catchy songs that touched all the right notes and deserved a generous amount of YouTube covers. In his thirties, Arnold co-authored a memoir titled Writing Songs Well Known. Although the critics were hyper-critical, the general public gave the book a decent rating. After that, Arnold drifted off into the unknown. It was partially his choice, as Arnold could live satisfied on the earnings from his work and his investing strategies. He bought a small house and worked at a nearby bookstore. In his fifties, Arnold was approached once by a journalist, who wanted to know what he was up to. That was it.
By Nick Bucci5 years ago in Humans
Options
I once knew a girl who walked as if she were dancing on clouds. Every ounce of her was bright and beautiful. Not once did she have a problem with anyone… ever. She lived across the street from me, as children we would play together but as time went by our paths went separate ways. I never really knew what she did, but I was quite certain she was wasting her time. Her lifestyle seemed to so frivolous, she never seemed to focus her time and energy on anything deemed important. I remember spending my time at the library watching the world go by as I tried to keep my grades at a 4.0 gpa average, doing just what I was told to do by every adult I knew while she... didn't. And for the longest time during my highschool years I hated her and her carefree attitude. I remember watching her in school floating through the halls with no care in the world. I would have never admitted it then but I was jealous. My life was so full of stress trying to stay at the standards everyone held against me. I'd stand in the mirror and watch this darkness loom over my shoulders slowly consuming my body meanwhile across the street there she was this girl shining brightly and enjoying every second of her life... Every inch of my being wanted to find something wrong with her. I wanted to know that she wasn't as perfect as she seemed but from where I was standing... She was perfect.
By Yissel m delhoyo5 years ago in Humans
The Big Kahuna
I must admit that, from an early stage of my life, I have been obscenely rich. I grew up in San Diego, and spent my youth doing whatever I wished. I had my own rock and roll band. I grew my hair long, bleached it blond, and surfed all summer. I rarely wore a shirt. I had several classic Ford "woodies," a bungalow for my personal use on the beach, and partied endlessly. My parents were largely absent. They enjoyed traveling a lot.
By Steven Bridenbaugh5 years ago in Humans
A Human Companion
I don’t actually remember his name, but I’ve heard his tale before. We all have, I’m sure. Whether he’s getting drunk in the tavern or making his rounds through town, he’ll tell anyone and everyone about his past. “I used to be an adventurer like you,” he’s called to me so many times before, “then I took an arrow to the knee.”
By Jay Villin5 years ago in Humans
True colors
I am always defined by the colors I can see. I wake up searching for the blues and all the reds which bring out the life in me. I smile to the yellows, and the greens remind me of the paths I now take while taking myself to long walks, where even the trees have a different shade. I have learned to watch the leaves closely, the blueish drizzling water, all the little animals in browns with different stripes. I am filled with even more stainghth, now that I understand the importance of knowing the difference between a colourful life and a pale one.
By Maria Corrêa5 years ago in Humans
