literature
Families and literature go hand in hand; fictional families to entertain, reflect and inspire.
The Book of Levi
A match strike. Sulphur hangs in the air. Moishe’s hands, their lines deepened by time, cradle me. Fingers stroke the gold lettering pressed into my black cover. My leathered edges relax into the warmth of his hands. His reverent fingertips run the length of my words like when he first touched my pages when I was handed to him by his father. The long, black ink lines on my pages are the transcendent link between this moment on earth and the heavenly infinite.
By Heather Lustig-Curran5 years ago in Families
Moleskine and Jam
Carla had scoured every stationary shop in Biars-sur-Cère for the simple yet durable pocket notebook she had come to rely upon in her almost decade of literary prowess: a 9x14 cm. dotted hard cover easily stowable at a moment’s notice into her grandfather’s dilapidated Italian leather messenger bag she refused to replace despite years of judgmental eyes.
By ANITA RACHELLE5 years ago in Families
Another Chance
Part of me wishes I could go back as the person I am today, and stop what happened from ever happening in the first place. Although then I wouldn’t be sitting here writing this story at all, I’d likely have remained the same person I once was. I guess everyone was right about the whole hindsight thing after all.
By Sierra Mann5 years ago in Families
Leaving Lego, Loss, and Ligature Points
The internal surface area of my home is an active minefield. Camouflaged, a stealth dagger caught me forgetting slippers in my hurry to feed Benji. I stifle a howl, managing not to curse, but I can’t be the only parent who’s let a “shit” or a “dammit” slip out after stepping on yet another Lego piece.
By The Dani Writer5 years ago in Families
Empty Pages
“This book will help someone when they need it most” said the old man. It didn’t look like it help anybody when they need it most, thought Maria. It was an old, pocket sized, leather bound notebook with a silk ribbon attached from the spine. The corners looked rounded but comforting and the black leather was soft, although it was scuffed and scratched with a smudge on the front cover.
By David Calvert5 years ago in Families
Claim What's Yours
The view from the top of Half Dome was just as spectacular as I knew it would be, and just as familiar. Kind of like coming home, really, to see the valley nearly 9,000 feet below, with its ancient glacial cut extending northeastward up Tenaya Canyon and El Capitan at the opposite end of the vista to the west; rolling mountaintops hiding fields and forests on the horizon opposite my rocky perch. At 9:00 in the morning the sun warmed my back while I gazed into the distance, remembering Jossman Burrell and letting him know I’d finally made it. Hoisting my backpack I felt the weight of the box containing his ashes. Two years Grampa Joss had been waiting for me to bring him back to this place that held his heart and soul. Given his deep affinity for the Dome, it seemed strange to me that he didn’t want his ashes to be released here, among the fissures and splitting granitic flakes on this beloved and distinctively rounded peak that dominated Yosemite’s skyline. He’d asked instead that his sooty remains be given to the grasses and soil of Tuolomne Meadows. But that was tomorrow’s task; for now he was just along for the ride and one last chance to top the Dome.
By JANINA M FULLER5 years ago in Families
Gretchen
Gretchen saved my life. This old woman of four foot nine came into my world and turned it upside down and inside out in the blink of an eye. It was solely because of her that I was able to walk across the stage to receive my business degree in front of my adoring family.
By Syerra Milliman5 years ago in Families
In Memory of My Grandmother
Stephany struggled to put the memorial flowers in the back of the rental as the rain poured down heavily around her. She couldn’t leave that place without taking something with her because soon they would shut the lid to her grandmother’s casket. She wondered what would happen to the flowers and grew angry at the thought of leaving them behind.
By Lore S. Crown 5 years ago in Families
Grandpa's Old Barn
Grandpa’s Old Barn The old red barn was one of their favorite places to play and explore. Something new surfaced every time they spent an afternoon in the loft. They often found themselves playing pirates or gladiators or jet pilots. Fantasies sparked by the things Grandpa had left behind. Swords, chain mail, armor, and hand-made fighter planes were among the unique curiosities he had amassed during his life. Each item was carefully selected for preservation during his later days when he most tightly embraced minimizing and became one of the new band of stoics. Grandma thought the old barn was weak and dangerous as it leaned a bit east from long winters enduring westerly winds, but she couldn't keep them out of the loft.
By Thomas Durbin5 years ago in Families
LOST AND FOUND
Abner Wentworth mainly kept to himself. Everyone who knew Abner – the wealthiest and longest-standing resident in the small town of Hansonville, New York – associated him with his most prized possession: a small, black leather bound notebook he carried with him everywhere. No one in Hansonville knew what was in the notebook, but if Abner was out and about, he could always be seen either reading through the notebook or writing in it.
By Michael Volk5 years ago in Families
