Love
A Persian Prince Teaches Me The Craft Of Persian Cooking
I couldn't boil an egg until I met Prince Hassam. He was my Persian Prince I had a romantic fling with. I was just seventeen. You know what I mean. Swept off my feet. I was permitted to call my Prince Sam, for short. We met at a nightclub. Kensington London town. I believe the area. Not South-Kensington. No, there are a few under ground clubs hiding around that neck of the woods, which are quite odd. I happen to know, as once upon a time, I ended up in one. Everyone was spaced out. Walking on air.
By Black Dog Productions5 years ago in Fiction
Life After Life
I heard a sharp crack, and for some inexplicable reason I was in no doubt that the pistol was aimed at me. Maybe it was the garbled mixture of images flashing through my mind, as if I were watching two-hundred-and-eighty-thousand videos simultaneously, each one playing an hour of my thirty-two years of life in a fraction of a second. Maybe it was the acute pinhead of agony illegally accessing my brain, hacking into the operating system of the software and corrupting it beyond hopes of salvation, shortly before unplugging the whole thing and smashing it into an unrecognizable mass with all the inertia of a sledgehammer.
By Paul Wilson5 years ago in Fiction
A Beautiful Day on the Beach
It’s a beautiful day on the beach I believe I have all to myself. The sun is red from all the smoke drifting over from what was downtown, but the air is dry and not too hot and the ocean is a color I recognize from before it overwhelmed coastlines and redefined the idea of “beach.”
By John Schimmel5 years ago in Fiction
Starcrossed
The world was barren of nearly all its resources. Centuries of humans taking had taken its toll on the planet. Now, once you turn 13, you must go farm to be able to provide for your family. Sometimes, you won’t see your loved ones for years on end, as you must travel to new places where there is no drought, or the soil is still fertile. But Romeo couldn’t care less about any of that, because Romeo was totally, utterly, and completely in love. Her name was Rosaline. Romeo could see it now for the next hundreds of years the names Romeo and Rosaline will be synonymous with boundless, eternal love. She was an incomparable beauty in a barren wasteland. They met while sending out money to the workers out farming for food and vegetables. Romeo was luckier than most, his family didn’t have to farm, in fact they had been able to hire people in order to take their place. He knew that he would spend the rest of his life with her. He would never love another woman in his life. Or so he thought until he saw…. her. Juliet. A true beauty with no equal.
By Madison Dickey5 years ago in Fiction
Victoria's Lesson
To start with, there were three things Victoria knew would be essential on her trip. Water, sunscreen and a hairbrush. What else can a girl need on a yacht? She looked up at the calendar, jotting the last plans for her summer vacation down in her fuzzy notebook. Three days until the end of Junior year. Three days left of the endless droning of the teachers, the awkward lunch line, and only three more days of watching her best friend, well, former best friend, making lovey dovey eyes at her boyfriend. Former boyfriend. The double heartache was the hardest lesson she had learned this year, and it had nothing to do with school.
By Alicia Borghese5 years ago in Fiction
Puppy Love
PUPPY LOVE The dog’s plaintive whine roused Moira from a fitful sleep. She snagged a night robe, cinched the belt and strode down the narrow hallway of her duplex, feeling the walls for balance. A week in this place and things still seemed out of whack.
By Jessica Nelson 5 years ago in Fiction
What a wonderful life
What a Wonderful Life The old man looked up from his book. The sun, slanting through thick foliage, touched his wrinkled cheeks with warm gentleness, and dappled his body. Sitting on many soft pillows stacked into a heaping pile, he looked very much like a weathered, deformed pearl on the thick tongue of a marbled oyster. He leaned against a silver birch, listening to the soft birdsong. The grove he was sitting in was small and cozy. Closing his eyes against the soft light, he smiled and thought, what a wonderful life I've lived. He thought about all of his family. He thought of his children and their children and about his new great granddaughter still yet to experience the wonders of the world. He couldn’t wait to see her bright little face. So innocent and full of life.
By Jasmine Henry5 years ago in Fiction
Love and Legs
The Autumn air was crisp and leaves blew around my feet. I had been coming to this spot at a ranch in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada mountains for twelve years now. Since eighteen my whole life had been about writing. I took to it my senior year of high school and pursued the pages as an outlet for my problems and dreams. Then I started to write fiction and my career took off. The beautiful river that flowed through the ranch property made for a great remedy for writer's block and a good way to clear my head. It's funny, for so long my escape has been my books. Now my own book was coming to and end.
By Bethani Sparvel5 years ago in Fiction
