literature
Whether written centuries ago or just last year, literary couples show that love is timeless.
Crunch
Every day, the horizon feels a little bit closer. You learned one day, you don’t know when or how, of a theory on the flipside of the Big Bang, that just as the universe exploded from one point, to that same point must it snap back together. One great big crunch, and the universe in all its majesty is no more. For a while, you believed in entropy: all heat will expend itself into the cold expanse of the cosmos until it’s nothing but atoms spread as thin as possible, and as the universe keeps expanding, those atoms grow further and further apart. It’s like being drawn and quartered, you think, except instead of your limbs, it’s every microscopic piece of you.
By Steven Christopher McKnight5 years ago in Humans
The Contract
After six years together, Ophelia and I are parting ways. They tell me it is what is best for her, but how can it be best when she will never know love again? Never know the security of being protected and cared for. From this point forward, she will be on her own, defenseless against the elements. I shall never again serve as her protector and provider. Never again will I bring her the frogs, lizards, and small rodents I catch in the meadow behind my house. She must take responsibility for her own survival now. I don’t think she’s much of a hunter. I spoiled her by catering to her needs. The mice stopped coming into the barn shortly after she moved in, so there is really nothing she can hunt. She must leave the safety of her little hideaway, and I must let her go.
By Naomi Brown5 years ago in Humans
Dirt Slopes
I was ten years old and the bracing sun of Central American summer was at its highest point. I don't remember much of how that day started. I probably woke up to the loud beat of reggeaton at the far distance, or ambulant merchants selling whole foods, or perhaps at the screams of my aunts and uncles arguing over who was going to do what that day. Whatever the reason for me to be awake was, it was there.
By Jose Duron5 years ago in Humans
Night Dancing
“Get up,” Jack whispered, leaning over to whisper in Gael’s ear. He knew his lover was awake. To the rest of the household, his creeping out of his room and into Gael’s would have been as good as silent, but to Gael, well he would have heard him the moment the door opened.
By Duointherain5 years ago in Humans
Portrait Of A Lady
Eureka, Duchess of Bonivia, had married the Duke at the age of 19, and had been widowed just after their sixth anniversary. The Duchess began experiencing severe health concerns just months before the Duke had suffered a fateful injury. She was a beautiful woman in her own right, but after suffering a stroke at the early age of 26, she became a recluse. She had always been very prideful of her looks, and now, she felt herself becoming more and more withdrawn. Her face was slightly drooped on the left side, and she was very self-conscious of this.
By Adrienne Huggins5 years ago in Humans
Mouse and Owl
“Well, why didn’t you do it then?” tentatively asked the weary barn owl. It had been a long night, talking with Gilbert the mouse always turned wistful over Whiskey and smokes. Will was more of a walk it off and smash another line kind of owl. Talking problems through and crying about it didn’t make sense to him, like those dippy incestual pheasants down in Somerset. That’s how owls were raised in these parts of the woods. Regurgitate some vermin, shit some pellets, fuck some slutty barn owl down in Thetford. Life continues. Four in ten male owls not in education or employment commit suicide before the age of twelve. Short wingspans, short life plans. Growing up in the Woodland Projects was tough.
By Alexander Clarke5 years ago in Humans
A Timely Visitor
Oliver had awoken sharply at 3:33am from what had sounded like the fluttering wings of large bird. He still observed the “my side of the bed” policy despite that his wife passed away at the age of forty-two from breast cancer some 6 months ago. His side was the left from the foot of the bed, closest to the the window. Resting on the limb of the large northern pine on the opposite side of the glass pane was a rather curious and charming barn owl. Russet crown feathers framed his handsome snow white face. As he cocked his head to the to the left, Oliver couldn't help but notice how black his eyes were, like obsidian marbles.
By K.W. Thomas5 years ago in Humans
