literature
Whether written centuries ago or just last year, literary couples show that love is timeless.
Hook, stamina, oats.
The joys of an eToro party. I host them every Friday evening, while my wife is out visiting my brother Eduard. Hers is a dalliance of mutual consent, as I am both unable and unwilling to give her what she needs. I invite my good friend Bertrand over, plug my secretion-stained laptop into the television, and log into the trading platform. We start drinking, hard and fast. I am mainly on neat spirits – my personal favourite is a voluminous glass of aged Scotch, sweetened with a splash of Zeppelin. Bertrand, of the landed gentry, prefers champagne. He can easily clear three bottles of stuff in a night. He’s seemingly content with the fact that it will pass through his system faster than you can say “Vocal challenge time!”, leaving his body and ending up on the floor, no more or less similar to urine than when it entered his mouth, in my honest opinion.
By Arthur Targe5 years ago in Humans
One day we will love
The sun parted two palms of Luca’s banana tree, guiding him to the ripe bunch of fruits. He plucked them—raised on his toes—and returned to the lounge on his crumbling balcony. It was a fine day under the Brazilian sky, the air a little too humid and the shouts loud enough to halt his siesta.
By Anthony Despotellis5 years ago in Humans
And Then, It Happened
How could this be happening!? I just can't believe this. My world was just spinning out of control. I couldn't believe it. Here I stand at 17 being told that the only parent I have ever known is gone! The officer at the door was talking and I know I should be listening, but everything was all garbled up. He had a kind face that looked so sad. He was an older man with lots of wrinkles around his eyes and little creases around his lips giving away the years that he had spent smoking. I knew he was trying to say whatever he was saying as kindly and gently as possible, but I couldn't even hear him. My brain was racing, where will I go, who will take care of me, can I do this alone. I was going to be 18 in like three weeks!! Before the officer could even finish I remember just saying thank you and closing the door. He stood there for a bit, on the other side of our glass front door staring at me. He was probably wondering the same thing I was, am I going to be okay. I stepped away from the door and everything went dark.
By Aleah Peplinski5 years ago in Humans
Daphne's Dilemma
Daphne had been to this same thrift store more than one-hundred times over the years. She almost always found that perfect shirt, pant, hat or accessory that fit her bohemian sensibility to a 'T'. Sometimes it was a long and frustrating search and others it was as simple as walking through the door and making one circuit of the huge but crowded space. Today she was looking for that oh-so-perfect hat for the party she would be attending on Saturday, even though she already had at least two-dozen hats stuffed in her vintage armoire she used to store her hats, vests, scarves and jewelry in.
By Raymond McGlamery5 years ago in Humans
Midnight Library
I stumbled and fell. The rain slicked, night dark streets sprawled before me. Behind me the bar was warm lit, cozy. I heaved a sigh and pulled my sweater close. Poor company though – sodden as it was. But November was like this and I resigned myself to being cold and miserable. I’d been here before. Somewhere beneath the haze and the vodka I could remember saying things I would regret in the morning, feeling the pellets of icy almost rain on my face. Chicago’s version of a hello.
By Kat Averyheart5 years ago in Humans
The Notebook Project
The sky was full of heavy dark clouds, and was unusually cool for a Saturday morning in New Orleans. Aria was leaving Cafe Conti when it started to sprinkle, she set her coffee down on the side and pulled out her umbrella before turning right on Dauphine St.
By Dominic Sayers5 years ago in Humans
