literature
Whether written centuries ago or just last year, literary couples show that love is timeless.
Bristol Condominium
Thursday, November 9, 2017 It’s Thursday night, Friday jr., in college lingo. “What you feel is a choice, what you feel is a choice.” repeating out loud, dismissing the fact that I am about to hyperventilate. I was now behind in two of my classes. On top of that, I've had one of those days where nothing went my way. Everyday seems like having to catch up to it, making me exhausted. I’m staring at my dashboard, but my mind is in a washing machine accompanied by worn out thoughts that are meant to break me. “What you feel is a choice.” is the detergent and my positive reflection why I’m here. The saying “What you feel is a choice.” rinses all the negative thoughts away, replacing them with new gratitude and grit. I retrieved my tears that are sitting at the rim of my eyes, right in time before they begin to fall. My vision is no longer blurry and I notice the mileage on my car is in the same situation as me, reaching my breaking point.
By Miss_cellaneous5 years ago in Humans
On the Bridge
He’s here again- I sense him before he finally steps into view, the top of his face obscured by his ever-present camera. The bottom half, of course, is swathed in his black mask (he wears this particular one every week, so I have come to think of it, He’s here again- I sense him before he finally steps into view, the top of his face obscured by his ever-present camera. The bottom half, of course, is swathed in his black mask (he wears this particular one every week, so I have come to think of it, unimaginatively, as his “midweek mask”). He’s trained his camera on the tallest section of the bridge with its international orange towers and bulky cables that point skyward. The air is brisk, despite the dazzling blue of the sky with its puffy “what animals do you see?” clouds.
By Meigan Carson 5 years ago in Humans
Fate is a Funny Animal
After multiple unsuccessful attempts to flee his country, Jorge hoped his exhaustive attempts to set foot on American soil had ended, allowing him to move into phase two of his plan. Since losing his wife to breast cancer, he had been singularly focused on bringing his young daughter, Delilah, to America where she would have more opportunities with a better chance of surviving the genetic curse that had taken so many women in her mother’s lineage. Jorge was not poor, but had simply not earned enough money to cover his wife’s treatment. After losing his childhood sweetheart, he became laser focused on a trajectory that would change his daughter’s destiny. Having been denied legal channels to American citizenship, he decided his only option was to become an undocumented immigrant, work hard, and earn the right to bring Delilah to America where they could become citizens.
By Karan Joy Almond5 years ago in Humans
Did you hear what happened in Amsterdam?
She had finally made it. It had been seven years and it was all happening at once. There was no going back. She heard a woman’s voice calling from over the sound of her music, “Hoi love, gonna need you to hang up that call.. we’re just about ready go”. She hadn’t been talking on the phone, but she’d started murmuring aloud by accident. “Yes, alright” she replied to the attendant as she stowed away her belongings. This was her first flight since 2091, since the flying ban. She’d made it through the pandemic, and she was finally getting away.
By Malica Seille5 years ago in Humans
Lesson Learned
Ever since I moved to the Bay Area things have not been going as I had anticipated. I imagined myself in an ultra sexy apartment somewhere in the Mission with roommates that were smart, cool and just everything I aspire to be. I don’t know why that mattered when I was looking for a place to live but I’ll be the first to admit that sometimes I don’t have my priorities straight. I guess I saw other friends who had made this leap of faith and I was inspired to try on a new life too, I thought it would be the same for me but situation after situation I’m starting to feel like maybe I made the wrong choice. One thing is certain, San Francisco is not making it easy for me but I refuse to go back to the Bronx with my tail between my legs, to a mother that’ll be thrilled to say ‘I told you so.’ The idea of accepting defeat is not in my DNA, I’m not built for admitting when I’m wrong so I choose to stay here, where I feel lost but at least I can wallow alone. Here, no one knows me and I’ll just have to fake it until I make it, I guess, if that's even a thing.
By Crystal Adorno5 years ago in Humans
Orange Wine
It had been set in my diary in seafoam green ink at that point in my journey with the orange wine I’d begun referring to my schedule as my diary, not because I was British, but because my comings and goings and what-have-yous had become quite secretive, mainly to me to meet at the Olive Garden at noon.
By Clara Dollar5 years ago in Humans
Serendipty Kills
It was only a small story at the back of the Wall Street Journal but it was still a title-bite that grabbed immediate attention. Investment Bankers had birthed a variety of badly behaved children, but stabbings were not generally part of the play book. I mentally flipped back to the day I first met Lucian…
By Merry Adams5 years ago in Humans
The Imprisoned Visitor
Meagan had known ever since she’d moved into the new house one week earlier that she wasn’t alone. Yes, it was a very old house, and yes, she was an empath. She not only picked up on the emotions of living humans, but she also picked up on the emotions emitted by souls on the other side. It was nothing new and something she’d experienced since the age of five. The abilities had grown perpetually stronger as she had aged. At thirty-five, it was not unusual to sense something out of the ordinary.
By Cindy Calder5 years ago in Humans
The Little Black Book
Felicity wandered her usual haunt. Running her fingers along the base of her favorite shelves. Past Austen, Fitzgerald, Homer, Shelley. She was searching for some new old work to consume her unstructured hours, the time she had to spare between her job as a nanny and her second job waitressing on the weekends.
By Ellie Brooks5 years ago in Humans
