Love
Raphael
She didn’t see the moment Rafael fell, but she felt it, and smelt it, and tasted it. The smell of fresh cut grass filled her nostrils. She always hated that smell. It reminded her of the summer of 2008 and she did not want to relive that moment again. The taste of bile and copper grew in her mouth until it turned her stomach.
By Jennifer Miller5 years ago in Fiction
Maybe Tomorrow, Maybe Not
Angela sat on the park bench next to the frozen lake. The breeze was picking up and stung her cheeks, and the tips of her ears. You could hear faint cracks coming from the ice occasionally if you sat long enough, it truly wasn’t winter anymore, and the ice was hanging on longer than usual this year. Any day now and it would be separating into sheets that got progressively smaller and just became floating chunks of ice, soon to disappear as if they never were there.
By Dick Bachman5 years ago in Fiction
Affair? WTF said gently under my breath
Just because I am successful, beautiful and accomplished....AND SINGLE...does not mean I NEED to have an 'Affair'. Although you are 6ft 3inches of perfect sinew and muscle rippling gorgeousness...WITH RESPONSIBILITIES....you need to keep your distance.
By Novel Allen5 years ago in Fiction
She Made the Best Fried Eggs
Morning came with the smell of bacon. The hiss and spit of oil finally waking her up; the birds screaming love songs directly outside her window helped. Ava was still tired. She hadn’t gone to bed late, hadn’t woken up early, but it was hard to keep her eyes open. She wasn’t quite sure she wanted to be awake.
By Bethany Osguthorpe5 years ago in Fiction
Nancy
Nancy Austin was a pretty girl, shy and sweet. Her strawberry blonde hair was cropped at her chin, and her wide eyes and perfect skin made her look like a porcelain doll. She dressed in pastel colors, and had a beautiful smile. Still, she didn’t have many friends. There was always something distant about her, like she didn’t belong.
By Eleanor Wells5 years ago in Fiction
The Pain Of Love
The morning sun peeks through the curtains. I lay there half covered after tossing and turning all night. I get up and stroll to the coffee pot and then out to the patio. The trees are green and blocking the earliest rays of the sun, just the green traffic light and the occasional car. I can see my neighbor's house, and I watch him stir, walking out to get the morning paper and then give me a quick wave. He is a beautiful man, a tall blond Australian, and newly divorced. I have tried to find out why he wound up getting a divorce from his wife, but no one seems to know.
By Jeff Johnson5 years ago in Fiction
