literature
Families and literature go hand in hand; fictional families to entertain, reflect and inspire.
120 Minutes of Rain
120 Minutes of Rain The white wood siding, leaden and flaking, looks yellow in the porch light. The color of an old coffee stain on a white shirt. Moths try to wrangle their bodies into the fixture to feel the warmth just a little better. What would I do if I broke through, my wings cold and wet from the rain?
By David Nall5 years ago in Families
Opportunity Drops
Michael would have fallen out of his seat if he had not been strapped in. The turbulence was getting to him. Michael Carr was in his mid-thirties who would tell you he was in his late twenties if you asked him. He had held many different part time and casual jobs after dropping out of University and was dead set against having any kind of long-term commitment to anything.
By Rhianah Wilson5 years ago in Families
Candy House
Fiddlebrookians were once a colorful people, until they lost the wealth of their land in a trickster business deal gone bad. Twenty-thousand fiddle-dollars for a simple use of the enchanted forest “was the deal of a lifetime,” they were told. “The trees will grow back,” promised the men with fancy contracts, wearing dark suits and serious faces.
By E.C. Sullivan5 years ago in Families
Root
I fell asleep that night, crying as I always did. It was about 2:38 a.m...I set up and thought to myself “Now what?!”. I look at those 3 little heartbeats that depend on me to make things happen, and I break. Being a single mother isn’t easy. Being a single mother with little to no income, even harder. I cleaned my face at 3:11 a.m; I slept with defeat.
By Latoria Pierson5 years ago in Families
Cash
My grandfather was about as open as his buried casket. Languishing in war-torn Vietnam must do that to a person. When I was little, we used to visit him and my grandmother at their house in the desert. Every time we pulled up, we’d almost certainly find him out in the garage, fiddling with some rusted out Camero. He’d incline his head as our car parked in his driveway, before moseying on over to us as we got out. I’d slam my car door as loud as possible, yell “hi grandpa!” before rushing inside to take shelter from the unbearable heat.
By Grant Yamada5 years ago in Families
TOXIC LOVE
TOXIC LOVE AND THE By: Candace P. Wallace “Good Morning sleepy head Baby Mama”, said a familiar but sometimes annoying voice as I answered my cellular phone off guard at 6:30 on a Friday morning. “Man, I have 15 minutes left before my alarm clock goes off for work, I responded to Landon, my kids father, whom I had developed a more cordial relationship with in the past 3 years since our split almost 8 years ago. Landon giggled and responded, “I wanted to see if you knew anybody that would pass my boy Henry’s car inspection”, I know you know a lot of mechanics out there in Virginia so I thought I’d call so you can jump on that early for me”. “First of all, I rebutted, how in the hell do you figure I know a lot of mechanics? Second, I am not your damn personal secretary and third, why are you calling me this early in the morning”? Landon giggled again like I was some sort of joke and stated, “Girl, every time you needed your car fixed, inspections etc. from the time we were together up until now you always had a good side mechanic”. I could hear the sarcasm in his voice which made me giggle as well, remembering how he always would accuse me of being with the mechanic, the maintenance man, the mailman, even the preacher man. If he wasn’t a man I was related to, take it from him, I was with him. Shaking my head over the phone, I replied, “You mean to tell me you don’t have a woman in that Little Black Book of yours, that knows a mechanic that can hook your boy Henry up”? He responded, “Nope not in Virginia”. Landon had moved to Phoenix, Arizona 4 years ago with his rebound Heather, who popped up and moved in with him immediately after I left him. Looking at the clock it was 6:44a.m. and I knew my alarm clock would be going off in a minute, so I told Landon I would see what I could do, just to get him off the phone. As I hung up the phone, I began to think of our crazy, toxic, young love that lasted almost 16 years and the lessons I would learn from it. We both thought we were so much in love.
By Candy Wallace5 years ago in Families
“The Double-Count”
“Unfortunately, your loan application is declined.” Angelica stared at the email. Her first year of university was set to begin in a week, but all her careful plans had come undone. Elena, her younger sister by a year, sat beside her on the bed.
By Patricio Kobek5 years ago in Families
