literature
Whether written centuries ago or just last year, literary couples show that love is timeless.
The future in the past
I walked the path that I once loved. It used to be nicely groomed when I was little. The rose bushes with lush flowers, the weeping willows hanging low but not low enough to touch you. Walking the path up to the beautiful stone house felt like you were walking through a tunnel of plants. Now it looks unkept and overgrown. It smells earthy and damp. I walk a little faster, I feel watched but I know I am alone and it is just in my mind.
By Evelyn Gebele-Baker5 years ago in Humans
SPORT OF ROMANCE
Sport of Romance Hi I am a hopeless romantic. I know when guys hear that they cringe, but when women hear that their hearts are opened just a bit until action is shown. I wrote this book, because I wanted to leave behind instructions to my boys. Instructions on how to treat their women in their lives, and to cherish them. Well like most guys, we hate long introductions right so lets get into it shall we.
By LB Harpdog Creator Of Bampires5 years ago in Humans
Intimate Exhibition
Bryer-Ann threw her phone down in disgust; her loud grunt speaking an entire anthology of inventive swear words. Fuck Tanya, fuck her all the way off. Their tempestuous relationship had been finished for over a month by this point; a mutually hostile decision from both of their sides. Despite the agreement to never speak to each other again Tanya seemed to be able to find a new reason to make sure Bry-Ann's morning coffee was regularly accompanied by an enormous portion of negative energy that practically radiated from her mobile, shooting directly into her chakras via texted toxicity, insults, insinuations and numerous wild accusations.
By Deb Simmonds5 years ago in Humans
Shards Of Being: Ch. 2
SOPHIA “I’m not spending my last day in New York with my best friend glued to her phone,” Marina declared as she snatched my phone out of my hands and turned it off completely, keeping it hostage in her own purse. We’d been strolling down Central Park for about thirty minutes now and I wasn't only physically tired, but mentally as well. The stunning autumn foliage surrounding us wasn’t doing anything except making me feel worse.
By Sharlene Alba5 years ago in Humans
When Time Takes Its Own Route
Morning came across the bay area one late April. Chris awoke to sunlight creeping in on him through a space in the curtain. Exhausted after a night out with friends at the bar, Chris pulls out his wallet to make sure he didn’t go broke. There it is again. That picture of his high school girlfriend, Shiann. The huge curls of her brunette hair falling perfectly around her face and her blue eyes gleaming like little diamonds.
By Violet Holt5 years ago in Humans
Nathaniel
Nathaniel I looked up into what I thought was the face of an angel. He was beautiful; his hair was the colour of sand, messy, and fell across his forehead, covering his eyebrows. His eyes reminded me of my mother’s, sparkling green, his lips full and red, and his skin flawless.
By Jo Donato - Author5 years ago in Humans
A dream.
It happened 30 years ago .... far far away. Somewhere beyond the Polar circle. A little girl who just turned 12 started to dream. She was born in the land which is hard to find on the map in a dark and very cold place. There was 9 months winter and only 3 weeks of sunshine through a year. She had to wear a heavy fur coats and cover her face with a thick scarf not to freeze her cute little face. Usually he nose was frozen and became white and her fingers were numb because of the cold. And so she dreamt that one day she will live somewhere where it’s eternal summer with warm sun rays on her skin. She used to sit down alone in her grandma’s house and a draw a picture of mountains and the big yellow sun shining on them, the ocean with beautiful blue waves and many palm trees. She lived those palm trees on the paper and she was smiling to herself imagining how one day she will be walking among these gorgeous and strong trees. How little she knew back then that she was drawing a picture of divine California. So, that little girl, let’s name her Joy, started to think how to get to the land of eternal summer. Her world was not as bright as a kid life should be but she seemed like knew how to cope with anything. She was a joyful kid may be because her own name gave her courage in spite of all. Her both parents were not mature or didn’t really know how to love, cherish, take care of and educate Joy. That’s why Joy had to learn by herself. Fortunately, she loved to read books and she realized quickly that all wisdom of centuries for people are there. In her grandma’s house where she spent almost a half of her life, she found way too many books and couldn’t stop reading. But the greatest miracle happened to her when suddenly her aunt Lucy bought a new TV set and it was a colorful television. Suddenly, Joy could see the big world out there. There were no snow, no cold, no darkness, only beautiful forests, rivers, animals, and perfect people with beautiful faces, beautiful skin, hair and of course sunshine, lots of sunshine. She was glued to the TV day and night and right after school, she was sitting on the floor watching at the screen with an open mouth, forgetting how to breathe. And she saw New York! That moment she promised to herself whatever it will take her, she will go there one day! But she had to grow first, graduate highschool, learn American English, graduate college, get some money, get a beautiful profession and little she knew how long and how hard it will be to escape from that dark cold place she was trapped in. The great news: she made it! She paid a high price but the journey was worth it!
By Nadya Shuller5 years ago in Humans
Shards Of Being
JOSEPH “I’m not doing this shit,” I told Carlos Nunez, my best friend, while he did his best not to snicker along with the rest of the guys as we waited at the bus stop on Lafayette Avenue in the Bronx. We were all from The Heights, a designated block in the Tri-State area where there were mostly people of Dominican descent. But Carlos’ younger brother Ulysses went to school here uptown and Carlos was under strict orders from his mother to pick him up and drop him off every day. The guys and I usually accompanied him on Fridays if our college and work schedules lined up. Today happened to be one of those days, and to my disappointment, Carlos was in a prick-like mood. I, of course, was his favorite victim. Mostly because he knew I could take a joke. Mainly, because I was his only punching bag.
By Sharlene Alba5 years ago in Humans
