literature
Whether written centuries ago or just last year, literary couples show that love is timeless.
I'll Burn the Pain Out of You Baby
Every disgusting stain on those six tatami I can trace back to his giant fat ex-Sumo ass drinking himself unconscious. Blood stains, sweat stains, even sex stains, wanted and unwanted. Every cigarette burn too. I have to take the burning butts out of his fingers when he passes out so he doesn’t set our little shit apartment on fire. I’ve seen him sleep through earthquakes when he’s drunk.
By Steve B Howard6 years ago in Humans
Chiara The Musical
I personally created 'Chiara The Musical' script, score, performance, recording and film, over a four and a half year period. The telling of the story of the fictional character, 'Chiara', was both deeply moving and inspiring for myself and hopefully also for an audience. Tickets to the theater show at Joe's Pub, The Public Theater, NY, were substituted for the audience, so that they could instead make a donation to UN Women, if they desired.
By Claudia Corrieri 6 years ago in Humans
My First Day
I opened my eyes and took a deep breath. Beneath me I felt something soft, warm and smooth. My body felt heavy but satisfied. Above me I found myself staring at the overhead canopy of a bed. The design was fancy, intricate with red and gold threading and patterns. I moved my arms and legs over the surface beneath me and smiled. This was my dream bed. I could feel it welcome my entire body with it’s memory foam interior. I rolled over on my right side and grabbed my glasses off the nightstand. Once I put them on I laid back and stared at the canopy above me. The design in the center was magical. It depicted two lovers locked in a naked embrace, their brown skin, glowing amidst the outer reds and golds of the fabric. It was beautiful and as I stared at it they seemed to move as if they were alive. Slowing shifting limbs here and there, pulling each other closer, their kiss growing more passionate with every second. A surge of excitement swelled within me and I threw a little happy fit on the bed. I was here. This was my world.
By Alecroft S.6 years ago in Humans
My Emma
Inspired by Bon Iver's song Blood Bank. The room was filled with people in reclining chairs, their arms rubbed with sterilizer and needles prodding into their veins. I watch as the tubes turn from clear to red as it fills up with blood, filtering it into a plasticized polyvinyl chloride bag. Walking around the room everyone had a different reaction to having their blood drawn. Some were sitting perfectly still watching the blood move from arm to tube, as if they have been doing this all their lives, while others were closing their eyes in disgust towards the crimson liquid that was escaping their veins. A few people were squeezing their fist so hard their knuckles were turning white and the tourniquet look as if it might snap. I tug at my hoodie to cover the bandage in the crook of my arm. Some part of me loved the blood bank. Not in a sadistic way that loved the act of voluntary bleeding – it gave me some strange joy to see that every person bled the same shade of red.
By Lexus Jacobs6 years ago in Humans
The Straight Little Prince
Once upon a time, there lived a straight little Prince in a very cold Kingdom. In the only world he’s ever known, the little Prince lived in the Kingdom of Winter; the coldest, yet most beautiful realm out of all of the surrounding seasonal Empires.
By B Goldberg6 years ago in Humans
Willfully Human: A Novel
There are times I think I could be a photographer. As I waited in the restaurant I tried to convince myself of it, with exotic but generic music sinking from ceiling speakers, and low, warm light providing a real-time filter on bland decor. I spent more time than warranted fixated on a candle. Nothing special. Just a small tea candle in a glass enclosure no more expensive than the candle itself. I shifted my gaze, watching the reflection warp through the cut glass. What held me there wasn't the "light dancing gaily on the walls" or the "life-giving glow as the flame lashed out against the darkness". Nothing poetic at all.
By The Last City6 years ago in Humans
Avenues: Ch. 2
I was twenty-three when I received the keys to my first studio apartment at Three-Forty-Seven Manhattan Avenue. No kid my age could afford such a thing. Especially with a record under my belt. But with Willie’s help at the time, he managed to get my record expunged and forced me to use the certification I gained during my two year stay in jail to get the kind of job that could help me pay the bills. Who knew learning about how to fix computers and shit would come in handy. Of course just fixing broken screens and replacing dead batteries weren’t enough to sustain the rent alone. Willie helped me get into a city program that paid for at least half and the rest I had to cover. Hence where RideShare came in. I’d heard about it one day while grabbing a quick bite to eat downstairs at the corner store and managed to get the details from the store owner who frequently used the ride service. Not too long after that, I was part of the RideShare explosion and picked up passengers from the airport almost every weekend when I wasn’t working at my other job.
By Sharlene Alba6 years ago in Humans
WHERE THE BREEZE LEADS...
Bitter tears rolled down his face, streaking across the blue shirt and ironed black trousers that encompassed his gentle 5 ft 10 in-200 pound body. And she watched him, heart breaking, mind going back to the conversation they had two weeks ago.
By Henrietta Efunnuga6 years ago in Humans
