literature

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

Predatory Animals
It was a day like any other when the postman delivered my draft notice. I’d woke at dawn, roused by Father, and went about my morning duties on the ranch.
By Conor Boland5 years ago in Humans
John
Chloe, running late as usual brushed past the other girls in the dressing room, heading for the showers. She quickly hopped in before the water was fully heated as she began washing her hair she couldn’t help, thinking about her 9 year old twin daughters she had left at home alone again to fend for themselves. Chloe had ordered a couple of pizzas on her way out the door, hugging and kissing her girls and telling them not to worry she would be home before they woke up to get ready for school. The hour and a half drive to the club gave Chloe too much time to think and worry if her girls would really be okay. The twins were very mature for their age, super intelligent, and very capable of taking care of one another. Chloe’s real fear was that they would eventually realize that she wasn’t really a waitress. Chloe prayed every time she drove to work that her girls would never find out that what their mother really did every evening. Because what she really did was swing around a pole. A “dancer” she would call herself when joking with her very close friends that knew the truth, Chloe was a stripper. Every evening she left the house with her hair in a ponytail and very little make up as she headed out the door to wait tables keeping up the rouse. Chloe finished washing her hair, shaving her legs, precious areas and under arms, then sugar scrubbed every inch of her body making sure every crevice was silky smooth. After drying off she grabbed her g-string, heels and lingerie from her locker and quickly got dressed. It wouldn’t be long before her name was called to appear on Main stage. Chloe lotioned every inch of her body, blow dryed, straightened her hair, glued on her fake lashes and put on her make up just in time for first call. As she walked out of the dressing room smelling of dream angels Heavenly, making her way to main stage she spots 4 regulars. It’s going to be a good night. She shakes off her worries and makes her way on to Main and her regulars move to closer to the stage. Chloe smiles at each man making eye contact so that they feel as though they are the only men in the room. She makes her way around the stage attentively dancing for each one. Other men see the connection with the regulars and move in so that they might receive the same attention and make a new connection for themselves. Chloe smiles and leans towards each new face whispering hello and introducing herself to her new friends. One of the new men stood out. “Hello, John”, he recieves an especially warm and welcoming smile, and the song ends. Chloe gathers up the cash that has been thrown about main stage and makes her way to stage 2. Every man follows. Stage 2 is more intimate and allows for closer contact than main stage. Chloe lays down arches her back and has close conversations with her regulars and all of the new faces as she scissors her legs and ever so slightly spreads them apart to reveal her g-string covered precious parts. “Hello, John”, he smiles, he cannot speak. Chloe smiles and warmly asks if John would like a dance. He nods, yes. She grins and moves to stage 3, all men follow. Stage 3 is more of the same, accept the regulars already know that they are bidding for Chloe’s time and attention, therefore they all prepay for dances. As Chloe exits stage 3, she quickly covers herself and makes her rounds to hug each of the men wanting her attention. She has them all in waiting as she takes each of their hands and guides them to the back one by one. 2 hours pass before Chloe can make her way back to John. “Hello, John”. John turns beat red, “Hello, Chloe”. She takes his hand and leads him to the back, even though her feet are killing her and her body aches from moving nonstop for the past 2 hours. Chloe dances for John and talks with him throughout each dance, after dancing 5 songs straight, Chloe asks John if he’d like to get a private room. He nods yes. Once in the private room, John says, “I know you are tired. You do not have to dance, just talk to me.” Relieved, and ever so attracted to John, she rests. He spends over $3000 that evening on Chloe and continues to visit her every week spending the same. After several months, John reveals to Chloe that he may not be working in town anymore and that he may not see her for a while. Heartbroken Chloe says her goodbyes. There will be other “Johns”, she tells herself. That evening Chloe’s manager tells her that one of her clients had forgotten something at his table. The something was a John’s table, Chloe picked up the little black book, she had never seen John with a little black book before and curiosity was killing her. She decided one little peel couldn’t hurt, besides she has no way of contacting John, perhaps his phone number was written inside. Chloe headed towards the dressing room and was stopped along the way by a regular. She smiled, took him by the hand and headed towards the back room, several hours later she heard last call. She hugged her client and began making her way around the room to hug and tell each of her regulars goodnight, by this time the club was lit up like a Christmas tree with every light on, she then made her way to the dressing room. She had almost forgotten about John’s little black book. She sat down in her dressing chair and slowly opened the book, written inside, was a love letter from John, “Chloe, after tonight I will most likely never see you again, the past few months have been amazing. I need you to know that I love you. I realize you may not feel the same way, but I need you to know that I do. I wanted to take you with me, but I know that you have twin daughters and that you are committed to loving and caring for them and that my plan is most likely not your plan. I love you. I knew that you would pick this little black book up from my table and I hoped that you would open it looking for my contact information. If you are reading this, my plan worked. My contact information can be found on the signed check enclosed for $1,000,000 for me this is nothing, but I know that this money could be life changing for you. Feel free to deposit it or if you have by chance fallen in love with me as I have you, call me and come away with me. You and your daughters will never want for anything ever again for the rest of your lives. Entirely your decision. Love, John
By MR WE5 years ago in Humans
Stains of Coffee
The dark clouds covered the sky over the suburbs of Cincinnati, Ohio. There was no sign of birds today to create beautiful music for one's ears to hear. «Another Monday! Another day!» Yousef said as he inhaled deeply with his eyes fixed on the mirror, dressed in his white T-shirt, and his hair unbrushed scattered in all directions. He stood there in silence and motionless as if he was seeing the reflection, which stood before him for the very first time. A tall man, rather slim, with sad eyes exchanged views with him. The clock sitting next to his bed ticked as he followed his daily routine. He washed himself, put on his brown suit, ate toasted bread with two boiled egges, and drank black tea with a drop of honey to add flavor.
By Malika B.5 years ago in Humans
The Girl in a Pink Dress
The little girl watched her Auntie May comb her long curly black hair out of her face and into a bright pink bow on the top of her head, giving her a bouncing pony tail that swished from side to side. She twirled around in her light pink dress, making it fly around her in a precious circle. The satin pink dress fell to her knees, and a bright white ribbon wrapped around her torso under her chest into a big pristine white bow in the back. The little girl fingered the white lace that ran around the hem of her dress. The colors contrasted so well with her dark brown skin, she was delighted! Why, she thought that it must be the finest dress in all of Harlem. She even supposed that she could be mistaken for a princess. She figured that this special holiday was the best ever because she got to dress up prettier than any other day of the year. As she admired her reflection in the mirror, the curiosity of youth crawled up behind her and took her by surprise, and so she asked, “Auntie May, why do we always dress up on this day and meet everyone at the park for a cookout?”
By Alexandra H Gulcan5 years ago in Humans
The Art Of Folding
"Rhys! Where are you, I need someone to rant to about the positively atrocious day that I've been having." Mary blew into the shop like an expensive whirlwind, silk skirts flying, perfectly-curled blonde hair swinging indignantly at the injustices of the world. Rhys looked up from behind the counter where she had been pouring over a battered old book, already smiling at her friend.
By Typethreewriter5 years ago in Humans
The Path
I step out into the night, the coolness of the air around me, peels away the fatigue, the angst, and the drudgery I have been feeling. I can sense the heat from the house radiating behind me, a massive smothering heat, as the summer has been so very hot and dry. I can feel the coolness of the dew on my feet as I step into the grass, freshly cut the day before. The wet upon feet is refreshing as my dry, cracked soles have never seen the long Hard Summer Heat. It has been overwhelming I am not used to toiling in the fields. I had been pampered in my lifestyle, this, was all new to me. The night air was cool and invigorating; I could feel something novel, almost tangible in the air. I close my eyes and my face reaches for the light of the full moon. I open my eyes to the brightness of the moon glowing down upon me, giant and warm, even though it should not radiate heat, strange, I think to myself. I can feel something in the light of the moon, in the energy, as though something is pulling the water inside my body moving it to a rhythmic beat for which there is no sound. The gentle caress of light upon my face, brushes soft against my skin, it re tells a memory of a lovers caress. I feel everything, the energy within the grass growing, and the plants around me emerging upwards and out, reaching forward. The vines of small squashes coil their tiny arms around the grass, stretching them out to where they will have more space to greet the sun when she rises in the morning .It is almost as though I can hear the chloroplasts photosynthesizing the carbon dioxide into oxygen. I can feel the energy at a molecular level. I can see the light of a thousand stars some which should not be visible with the moon so bright in the sky. The animals are silent, the wind barley rustles a leaf it is as though the universe is frozen within this moment or just in slow motion. This ancient vestibule spreads out further than my imagination can even fathom. I breath the night air, cool an fragrant it snaps me back to the now, why am I awake? Why am I in the yard, I had been in bed dreaming of cool waters and tropical beaches? What had pulled me from vivid dreams of far off places blue crystal water? I had woken up with a start hearing something in the barn, I remember. I start back on my investigative walk towards the barn at first forgetting the moment of awe inspiring epiphany I had experienced moments before. I can smell the dryness of the wood, the ancient Mysteries of the land around me. I take long steps, in my bare feet, across the yard towards this ancient building. As I put my hands on the cold metal of the lever on the door, flashes of the past race through my mind. Generations have made their history come alive on this land, how have not reveled in my own antiquity. Reaching to open tall wide door I can smell the hay inside clean and fresh as though I had filled it just yesterday. What is inside? What am I going to find? I can feel the anticipation, no fear, and no worry. I should be fearful, being in a place I hardly know, in the middle of the night in my pajamas and my bare feet. Yet I feel as though I am floating towards my destiny, my soul’s purpose. Everything inside of me vibrates as I opened the door. Through a large crack in the roof the light of the moon shines down upon a small brown owl seated on the cross bar to the loft of the barn staring at me. His dark eyes reached out to speak to me; I can feel his stare into the very depths of my soul. As I look deeper I can hear a thousand years of human history, of our spiritual growth. I can see the words of the great Mother Earth , Gaia. I can feel the energy of every religion and understand the spiritual meaning of the teachings of the greatest philosophers. it is as though a great gift of knowledge , a new way of understand is being given to me. I can feel my arms opened in prayer as my face turns towards the sky and this small fragile owl takes Wing. His slight wings open up, and swoop over my head, as he passes the wind from his wings brushes against my hair like a gentle caress of a God moving across the sky. A ball of light flies from his talons and smashes into my chest, knocking the breath out of my lungs. I fall to one knee gasping for air and as I look around to see the small owl fly away I realize that I can hear everything, everyone's voice, everyone's thoughts and I know that forever I will be changed.
By Erin Winspur5 years ago in Humans
Biscuits & Lavender Honey. Second Place in The Night Owl Challenge.
Growing up in the rural city of Mount Airy, North Carolina, I never found myself a part of the inner circle that is my family and “country life”. My father, Raymond Smith Jr., whom I share a name with, is a butcher, and so was his father and so forth. I come from a long line of butchers that “settled” on this land in 1709; settled is a short word for my family was captured from West Africa and sold to some random Englishman and plopped onto what was then Tutelo territory. In 1865 when slavery ended my great-great grandfather became a sharecropper eventually inheriting it from the settler colonialist once he died.
By Juan Davis5 years ago in Humans
Journey
The hours approaching dusk always seem to be the most sinister. Perhaps some primal part of our brain remembers the hunting habits of larger predators. Alik mused on this as he walked back to the inn. Tonight felt ominous. Despite that, he smiled at Nia, the barn owl who grew fat keeping the area around his inn free of mice and other pests. She was perched up in the window of the stable, watching Alik trudge along. Slowly she turned her head west, up the dirt road that leads through the forest into the small town, then back to Alik. Then she did it again.
By Richard Belarde5 years ago in Humans
The Artistic Owl
Today. Today is the day. The owl is leaving home. She takes a deep breath as she gets ready to leave. She’s never known true independence due to her mother enabling her, so she decided it was time to branch out. She had it all planned out. In order to ease the blow, she told her mom that she was staying at her best friend's place for the summer. She didn't know that her life would be changed forever after that moment.
By Cham Bré5 years ago in Humans
The marked owl
As he lay there with eye’s shut, he listened. There in the distance was a sound. The sound to him was beautiful. He had only recently learned what this sound was.
By Christen Tomblin5 years ago in Humans
The Owl Call
Something in the stars called her that night. The way they seemed to shine extra bright as the moon floats in all her glory among the blackness of the sky. Looking up, Iris marveled in the way the slight breeze caressed her face, making her ache for the love she never had. In the distance, she heard its greeting, a small “hoo, hoo” calling and beckoning her closer. Iris was lost and alone in every possible sense. With no friends and no true direction to take, the meaning and significance of her life always remained a mystery to her. She decided to follow the owl’s call as it continued getting louder with each new step she took within the foggy, darkened woods.
By Elisabeth 5 years ago in Humans
Little Owl
“What’s in this box, Aunt E?” “Nothing little bird, just something very old.” “Is it as old as you?” “It is much, much older than that, all the way back to your great grandma. If you promise to be careful, I will let you take it out and look at it.”
By E's5 years ago in Humans