literature

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

Holding On, Moving Forward
The stars pierced the sky and burned bright as Henry and Eve lay atop the hood of Henry's car. Henry had driven himself and Eve to the edge of a mountain near their hometown. Their backs were set up against the windshield and their legs reached over the hood of the silver Honda Civic. A blanket covered a majority of their bodies, keeping them warm from the cold August air.
By Carter Carlson8 years ago in Humans
Breath Deep
I had decided to defer a year from heading straight off into college. I’d visited San Diego once before as an adolescent and I fell in love with the warmth in the atmosphere, the smell of salt water in the air, the vast luminous sky, and array of distinct personalities. I currently reside in a quaint, intimate, two story duplex alongside mission beach. Mission beach, coincidentally was the first tourist site I’d visited in San Diego all those years ago. Love it here, I absolutely love it. Powder blue walls surrounding the living room, white carpet encompassing the living room floor, glass coffee table, plush white couches, home sweet home. What’s on the agenda for today? Lunch, and coffee at café 20/20, sounds great to me. Ride my bike along the beach? Of course, I will. I can’t forget to take Mojo on a walk once I return. The last time I did that, the stench of "oops I couldn’t hold it mommy" hit me before I opened the front door. 3 year old German Shepard lab mix, with a shiny black coat, big brown eyes, and stands about two feet on all fours. That’s my mojo, the current love of my life. I bought him from a couple online about a year ago. I saw his picture and my heart melted like molten lava.
By Duchess Howlett8 years ago in Humans
6
She is 9 years old. I am 3 years old. She is very pretty. She is a princess. I am not a princess because I am a boy. She is the prettiest girl in the world.
By Durmot L Jelfs8 years ago in Humans
In the Darkness: Part 2
Abigail was the first to step into the carriage with the aim of Azazel’s hand. It was worn from hard work, but gentle and warm. The feeling of his hand lingered on her skin; telling her a story of the man before her. He had worked for his wealth and worked hard. A quality she greatly admired. All of the men who attempted to swoon her heart were all born into their wealth. Suckling at the teat of their father’s hard earned money or worse... at the suffering of workers underpaid in hellish conditions. How she hoped that is not how he earned his living now. Her sister sitting beside her jarred her from her questioning thoughts. She glanced at the woman with a touch of annoyance. Why did she always have to meddle?
By May Fox8 years ago in Humans
Under the Oak Tree Near the River
Late October in my little town in the countryside of Montana, the water ripples as a chilly breeze flows through the beautifully coloured Autumn leaves. I lay on the grass under the pine tree near the river with my arms folded behind my head, why do I feel an uneasiness in my chest; a loneliness I can’t seem to shake off.
By Montana Venne8 years ago in Humans
Standing Right in Front of You
Bing bong. John stepped through the door into the cool interior of the Verizon store, clutching his dripping phone in one hand and casually smoothing his dark, soaking hair with the other. His shoes squished and squelched as he made his way to the heart of the sale floor.
By Kendi Stoneberg8 years ago in Humans
In The Darkness: Part 1
Azazel sat with his leg casually crossed, sipping at a steaming cup of Earl Grey at a café he had been frequenting since the dawn of time; or so it seemed. His thumb stroked the thin, porcelain curve of the handle. How easily it would shatter with the slightest twitch of his finger like human bone. The thought made him shudder. Carving hit him like a Clydesdale slamming its hoof into his chest; painful, radiating through every fiber of his being… then he took another sip of his tea. The sweet, peppered lavender taste washed away all hint of urgent need for violence, for blood, for the satisfaction of knowing he could conquer any and all… but that was not who he was anymore. He put that behind him.
By May Fox8 years ago in Humans
A Garden of Rooks
How long had Smit been here? She felt like this moment had grown its own lifetime and existed for as long as she could remember; her mind had raced a thousand races whilst her heart had beat maybe once, or was it twice? She is acutely aware of an absolute existence and intricate senses, but they aren’t her own. At least, they aren’t her current senses. In her mind she is thirteen again, in her thirteenth winter; she could smell the sodden earth and hear the close, hard rain as her small home offered all the shelter it could. She could feel the forearms against her chest, and the thin breeze of Lysander’s own breaths against her neck. She had always felt close to him, and as they wore the dense night like a blanket he would be her cradle. He had weathered more winters than she had, this was her logic: he knew what he was doing. The safety swallowed her deep into its unconcerned trunk where she intended to remain for all her long and luscious life. Smit remembers how it always ended in the morning. Smit blinks, mud is pressing into her eyes, she hasn’t taken a breath for some time.
By Joe Sheldon8 years ago in Humans
"Make Way" Part Nine: Fall of '87
It was at some night club in lower Manhattan, back in 1985. The young twenty seven-year-old fella, who's name is Tino, but later in life will be Tino Sr., came to the club with his friend Anthony, and they planned on meeting nice gals while dancing to some Bee Gees. The young twenty six-year-old gal, who's name is Anita, came with her three sisters (she has five sisters, altogether). During the night, both Tino and Anita noticed each other, and Tino asked her for a dance.
By Daniel Luis Ennab8 years ago in Humans
From Hearing Her Voice
My head lay sideways upon the desk. The stains of red paint and pencil sharpening scattered across its surface lightly brushing my cheek every time I took a breath. My eyes gazed upwards towards the girl who sat beside me. Her eyes were iridescently beautiful. The tears she had once shed were still barely visible, yet I still found it difficult to believe that anything, or anyone, could have hurt this girl enough to make her cry. I closed my eyes.
By Charlie Merriman8 years ago in Humans
"Make Way" Part Eight: Look Above and Listen for the Moon Serenade
"You still love him?" "Yes." "Do you wish you didn't?" Nalani was standing on wet grass, the leaves from the trees had already made their swaying drop. This is her favorite season, in a way, this is somewhat of the "redeeming" season. What does that mean?
By Daniel Luis Ennab8 years ago in Humans
"Make Way" Part Seven: Stand to Deliver
His friends were doing better than him, he thought. So there's this one friend, alright — he's basically freelancing every day on a set. Another friend was working for a production company, and then there was this other guy (not really a friend, but he knew him and called him a friend), who was working on a shoot involving...Martin Scorsese?
By Daniel Luis Ennab8 years ago in Humans