literature
Whether written centuries ago or just last year, literary couples show that love is timeless.
Blooming Romance
Maddy sat at a small flower cover table, her hair in a beautiful long braid. She sighed as she scrolls through her feed of possible matches; she never enjoyed online dating, but she's done it because whenever she's alone, she feels so empty that all her demons fill her head. She stopped at this one profile of this Navy man. Usually she wouldn't even give military men a second glance since she grew up in such a broken family mostly due to the military, but there was just something about him she couldn't pin to just one word. Maddy hovered over the app for a solid three minutes just debating if she should hit the like button; she flipped through the pictures on his profile. Half the people on this site don't actually talk to all their matches, she thought, so she decided to go with the flow and hit the like button, and by that time, it was time for her to start her shift, so she put her phone away and went to work.
By Corrie Hayward6 years ago in Humans
Whether the Weather
When you look at something what do you see? Can you see beyond the surface? She was always accepted and easily befriended. A beautiful child with long, golden hair and bright, green eyes, people seemed to gravitate toward her from the very beginning. She was a happy girl and always smiling. She delighted in helping people and seeing them happy.
By Beverly Velez7 years ago in Humans
House Full of Memories
The field was full of dandelions, as far as the eye could see. The house that was once more like a prison, looked so small to him now; but he couldn’t deny the sick feeling brewing in his stomach. He stood there on the edge of the dirt road, debating if he should get any closer. He wasn’t sure if he could, but he had come so far already.
By Beverly Velez7 years ago in Humans
Romances: Is the Genre at the Verge of Getting Stagnant?
It's easier to prove than a theorem that most avid readers of romances are girls, and I don't claim to be any different. There was a time when I could have devoured a romance faster than you could say the word. But in the last couple of years I have probably shelved 30 half read romances because I didn't have the energy to sit through "boy meets girl, both have attitude/ class/ gender/ health/ race issues that they need to overcome." I blamed it on getting older and wiser, because let's face it, though we know these problems exists and we have been reminded of these time and again, we also know that in this day and age we have evolved enough for solutions to these. However, now I don't think I should be blaming my wisdom for not being able to relate to such romances, there MUST be something that is not sitting right with this genre!
By Sumaiya Soha7 years ago in Humans
The Operator
Despite the sun radiating through his bedroom window and the sound of his sister’s laughter next door, Jackson was heartbroken. Even the aroma of cinnamon that wafted up from downstairs couldn’t raise his spirits. The comfort of French toast could not replace what he’d lost—or rather, what he’d found—that morning.
By Leo Dis Vinci7 years ago in Humans
Bonfire of the Rebels
Late August 1981, and the hot breath of summer was still beating down the back of my neck as I loaded up the 1964 T-bird and headed off to college. I had grasped the grizzly hand of Destiny and decided to join my friends who were two years ahead of me in the Phi Sig fraternity at WTU. It didn't take long upon arrival to ascertain my predicament. My former classmates, Curtis and Walt, had already flunked out, and that just left Ben D. and me. This would have been okay except, not only was Ben disinterested, but also moderately crazy. He had a girlfriend, a temper, and an alcohol problem. One night, after a particularly insane party, the frat house awoke to loud pandemonium. Ben had taken the sword from atop the fireplace mantle and had wrought some destruction on our living room.
By Lana Broussard7 years ago in Humans
A Promise Kept
Rebecca drummed her long fingers against the dark wood, glaring at the row of gentlemen seated across from her. They had been at this current argument for roughly 4 hours now and were no closer to a solution than they had been at the start. Her daughter was not some piece of carpet or a prize pig ready for market, and her temper had nearly reached its limit. Magdalene was nearly 15 and, as of yet, no suitable husband had been found for her. She was a plain and homely girl, taking after her father in all ways, but this was hardly the issue. A son would marry whomever his father decided on, the problem was her dowry. Lord Ranolf had been a good and kind man, but a poor marshal of his lands, leaving Rebecca and their child almost penniless.
By Victoria Tunney7 years ago in Humans
The Scottish Festival Surprise
Eleanor Morgan Dunwythe, a 30-something year old lady, five feet seven inches tall, a few extra pounds, with hazel eyes, auburn hair, fair skin, dressed in a burgundy skirt with a white peasant blouse, and a burgundy vest, walks through the local annual Scottish festival, filled with all different colour tents: white, blue and white striped, brown and white, canvas. The sounds of laughter, negotiating of purchases, tempting offers, and celtic music float on the slight breeze. She is perusing the items for sale or display in the various booths and tents: small statues, incense burners, candle holders, wooden signs, leather goods, bustiers, corsets, skirts, overdresses, children’s items, British food items such as vegemite, marmalade, Yorkshire tea, irn-bru, sgian dubh knives and swords. In one of the tents, she spies a handmade handbag, with a silk daisy on it, and purchases it. In another booth, she is drawn to a silver celtic triquetra necklace and matching bracelet, which she immediately purchases and puts on. As she’s leaving the booth, a six foot tall Scotsman with dark hair, ice blue eyes, and wearing a kilt comes running by and bumps into her, almost knocking her over, but catches her. Their eyes meet and they both feel an almost electric connection. He profusely apologizes and invites her out to dinner. She accepts his invitation and he explains he must first go to his Clan’s tent for a meeting and a commencement dance and would she mind coming along. She agrees, he takes her hand, and she matches his quick pace on the way to his Clan’s tent. People that they pass by look at them curiously and then resume their browsing.
By Emily A Dinwiddie7 years ago in Humans
