family
Family unites us; but it's also a challenge. All about fighting to stay together, and loving every moment of it.
The Knowing
Yes, I understand, but….yes, I know, but….Please, is there anything you can do?.... I know, I know, but….Yes, I was late month too, but this is different…..Yes, I know I said that but…. Friday? Yes, I will have it Friday. Thank you! Thank you! Bye by(click)
By Alvin Ray Williams Jr5 years ago in Humans
Lotto and the Diamond Dagger
Staring down at the black notebook in her hands, Lotto carefully traces her fingers over the worn cover. She had searched for even the slightest clue of this notebook’s whereabouts for many years without avail and now here it was, right in the palms of her hands.
By Sam Kepple5 years ago in Humans
The Walnut Café
Jean was sitting in his grandfather’s old rocking chair, he had sat there for the better part of the morning. He was immobile, statuesque. His chest lifting slightly, elevating only to depress and fall further into his form, this was the limit of his movement. An all too necessary action, one which Jean would rather have not even taken if he could have helped it. His chest hung low, dangling over his legs, and his head even lower, hiding the vital redness of his eyes and the simple streams that fell further down. These currents of life in Jean’s momentarily inanimate body fell on his legs, trailed down them and onto the red oak floor. These were the moments when Jean truly felt alone. Not in a physical sense of course, as the house was bustling with relatives and old family friends, but in a sincere way only a true artist can be. Jean’s grandfather was kin more than just in name or blood, but in his passions. He sat there at his grandfather’s desk, with his grandfather’s old recipe book in hand. His body pressed into the cold chair by an immeasurable sense of depression, one which might have seemed familiar to some onlookers. Jean was alone.
By Nikolis Atkinson5 years ago in Humans
Time Will Prove Everything
The palpable odour of elderly dissatisfaction spoiled what would have otherwise been the acceptable remnants of a living room. Nearly everything remained as he had last remembered; the sofas of cream and fuchsia cretonne sat abnormally unused, the dust burdened cushions longing for a familiar bottom to once again make itself at home; the shiraz-red bookcase nestled between each sofa, its depth of colour swallowing the gaze of whoever looked upon it, like a glassful of the antique wine it resembled. All the books were still in their place. All the books except one.
By James Hammond5 years ago in Humans
Big Sky Girl
In Livingston, Montana, the red brick storefronts look small under the mountains, and the mountains look small under the sky. Maddy ties up her hair and double-knots her apron and walks through the door of the brewery where she waits tables after school. It’s September, and business is slow. Summer was full of sunburnt families on their way to see geysers and bison at Yellowstone Park. Now she’ll be bringing burgers to ranchers and locals until ski season starts.
By 5 years ago in Humans
Clementine's Cache
At the top of a 49-foot pine, Clementine was able to see the entire land. She held tight, but never in fear. This was her place. Quiet, removed. Room, with a view. A warm breeze tousled her red hair across her freckled face. She squinted. She breathed in the scent of pineapple. Her arms warming in the late sunlight. Below, the land stretched away.
By Robert Lewis5 years ago in Humans
