literature
Whether written centuries ago or just last year, literary couples show that love is timeless.
Adam Helps, and Heals
It has been 4 months since Adam won $20,000 in the writing contest. He immediately gave it away. He’s delighted by the idea of funding dreams, and has started “Community Camaraderie Cures” (CCC) to funnel money through. It was his dad’s idea to make it a non-profit, and the family attorney set it up.
By @choosethesmiles5 years ago in Humans
Nadia's Little Black Book
Sunlight poured into the grimy, frosted over El windows, falling in neat lines across the floor and the laps of passengers. One such ray of light gently came to settle squarely on the upper body of a tall young woman, illuminating the reddish highlights in her luxurious auburn locks. She looked up, irritated, but there was no one to rebut her anger but the sun itself, and she’d long since given up on chasing pots of gold at the end of rainbows. Her long, slender fingers were clenched rather tensely around a little black leather notebook; its edges frayed and spine battered. The woman’s name was Nadia, and her life would prove to be more interesting than most.
By Brynn Sailing5 years ago in Humans
A Lady of Riga
It was ten to one. I’d watched the crowd inside the Hotel Lutetia bar thin out as people moved on from drinks to lunch, and now it was only me, the bartender, and four noisy Germans who showed no interest in food. I sat in the corner, alone, with the morning’s Figaro rolled up on the table in front of me, as instructed. Through the big picture window I watched blurry figures hurrying through the fog on Boulevard Raspail.
By Nick Goulding5 years ago in Humans
The Bench
The bench in Jackson Park is like a million benches across the world. Fairly nondescript to the casual passerby, but to the trained eye, the bench had a plethora of character. The frame was made of wrought iron with the side railings twisted and decorated to look like ivy. The wood was cherry, and to the trained eye, it was the only cherry bench in the park with the seat pitched at just the perfect angle for a relaxing sojourn with the top curled back slightly, like the bottom of a scroll.
By Dion McGill 5 years ago in Humans
Snake Eyes
“Snake eyes!” the croupier called out in a redundant reminder. A roll of two one’s on a pair of these cruel six-sided dice is one in 36. That’s a mere 2.77%, yet here I was rolling snake eyes at the Craps table as if it were the only numbers printed on the dice.
By Frank Monaco5 years ago in Humans
A Life in Colour
I leaned into the breeze filtering through the cracked window, trying to enjoy what I felt was going to be the last moment of simplicity for a very long time. Lush Maryland fields had melted from New Jersey neon, plains of Empire State concrete from azure suburban Connecticut skies, the swaying Rhode Islandian wheatgrass tumbling out of the river-run Bay State metropolis of eastern Massachusetts, all birthed from the mountainous highways of New Hampshire; a blur of hour after countless hour of wheels on tarmac.
By Betsy Chadbourn5 years ago in Humans
Big Imaginations
James turned 11 today, he had been in the orphanage for years now and the monotonous routine was normal for him, but there was one day a year where it was different. His birthday was his special day because this was the only day of the year, besides Christmas, where he received anything. He had hardly been able to sleep at all last night because he was too excited. He was wishing for coloured pencils this year; he had seen them advertised in a shop window and asked the Orphanage Master, Mister Tembley, if he could have them for his birthday with only a “perhaps” as an answer. Perhaps wasn’t a no.
By Chelcie Morris5 years ago in Humans
