literature

Whether written centuries ago or just last year, literary couples show that love is timeless.

Redemption
I used to be a cop, but you wouldn’t guess that from looking at me now. It was 34 years ago. My dried, splitting skin and thin, oil-soaked hair makes it look much further in the past.
By Tim Pierpont5 years ago in Humans
Black
Addie ran her fingers through the braid while trying to check her progress in the biggest part of the shattered bathroom mirror. It'd come like this, a perk of low-income living.
By Karalynn Rowley5 years ago in Humans
The Black Book
Jacob woke to his dark room again. The sun was yet to emerge over the neighbouring high rise, so the only lights that slipped through the curtain were the blue and red projections that emanated from the chicken shop across the street.
By Josh Chandler Morris5 years ago in Humans
A Rainy Day...
I had seen the box often. When we visited, it would be in the den, on the desk, near the fire. Or, when we visited, it would be on the kitchen table, slightly ajar, forgotten, until a meal would require it to leave. Or, when we visited, it would be in the sunroom, on the end table, near the window, forgotten once again, until a visitor would sit too near. Then, it would leave again.
By Kim Worth5 years ago in Humans
Run
“Hello?” I dropped my keys and laptop onto the hall table and nudged the front door closed behind me. “Hey! Are you here?”
By Amanda Walker5 years ago in Humans
Country
”This is OUR NEIGHBORHOOD!” “ Don’t, John Skipper,” I said. “Don’t. If I wanted to, I would have , Hannae.” “Neither of you, dressed for this. And, (Laughs) you cant change that.”
By Pearl Thomas5 years ago in Humans
Unexpected Surprise
My story is a bit original, I hope. It started when my husband and I purchased an old house with a lot of land on the outskirts of our town. It had been a long term goal for us and we were going to use our first home as a rental. So we didn't have to rush out of our first home. We could also now focus on starting a family. The new house needed a lot of work. Ok, I will be honest, the whole place needed to be gutted. The foundation was solid as well as the structure itself. It was the inside that needed the work. It was like the house hadn't been updated in a century. My husband had seen the house for sale during a road trip with his brother. My husband hired an inspector before we purchased the house so we were aware of how expensive a rehab on the house was going to cost. I will be frank, the inspection report freaked me out a lot. It had water in the basement as well as bad wiring (old knob-and-tube wiring), bad pipes, an outdated heating system, and mold. My husband got called away for work right after we closed on the house. Now, just that don't figure, right? Leaving me behind to get things started.
By Elvira Scaff5 years ago in Humans
My Words Remain
Thwap! The arrow flew past her face, narrowly missing her cheek before it embedded itself in the tree a few feet behind. Lilliana whipped around and dove for cover as another arrow landed on the ground sinking into the dirt her foot had just vacated.
By Erin Martin5 years ago in Humans
Freddie
Freddie My mother and I arrived at Gator’s home, late to the party. Typical for us, but still. I’m holding a cheap bottle of wine, and some dip. You can’t forget the dip. Inside we’re greeted, and I meet Gator for the first time. We have dinner, and after, sit around the bar stools in the kitchen, sipping wine and talking off our full bellies. In the upper left hand corner of my wandering eye, I catch a small glimpse of interest. I turn to see a colorful 2x2 blown up photograph, hanging on the wall. It’s a picture of a black man standing next to a white pickup truck. The contrast of the picture sparks my imagination in a way I never quite felt before from looking at a photograph. A desire, of sorts, to learn about its contents, and explore the story hidden within its mystery. Who is this peculiar man, standing there in my small town, proud and mighty? I wonder. Someone I’d never met before. Someone who I’d never get the chance to meet at all, it turned out.
By J.B. Talamantes5 years ago in Humans
Freddie
Freddie My mother and I arrived at Gator’s home, late to the party. Typical for us, but still. I’m holding a cheap bottle of wine, and some dip. You can’t forget the dip. Inside we’re greeted, and I meet Gator for the first time. We have dinner, and after, sit around the bar stools in the kitchen, sipping wine and talking off our full bellies. In the upper left hand corner of my wandering eye, I catch a small glimpse of interest. I turn to see a colorful 2x2 blown up photograph, hanging on the wall. It’s a picture of a black man standing next to a white pickup truck. The contrast of the picture sparks my imagination in a way I never quite felt before from looking at a photograph. A desire, of sorts, to learn about its contents, and explore the story hidden within its mystery. Who is this peculiar man, standing there in my small town, proud and mighty? I wonder. Someone I’d never met before. Someone who I’d never get the chance to meet at all, it turned out.
By J.B. Talamantes5 years ago in Humans
Preserving perfection
Her eyes were grey. Not a steely grey, but the soft grey of a sky that is about to rain. When the charcoal clouds merge with the white mist to form a sky that folds in on itself. The air becomes dense and heavy to breathe, and the whole thing becomes impossible to see through.
By Amanda Walker5 years ago in Humans
The Soldier
Tap. Tap. Pause. TapTapTap. The first time he heard it, he was in the dark. A narrow beam of dark orange sunlight pushed its way through a crack in the worn curtains and sliced the room in half. The flecks of dust that hung in the air flickered in the sunbeam like grain on film, but they did not swirl because there was no breeze.
By Amanda Walker5 years ago in Humans