literature

Families and literature go hand in hand; fictional families to entertain, reflect and inspire.

The black book
Today was a gloomy day it was time to say our final goodbye to grandfather. I was dressed in his favourite dress of mine and a black bow. I wore my flats he always like them over the heels I wore all the time. Mother called me downstairs to load in the carriage with the rest of the family. I sit in my usual spot looking out the window in the door watching the scenery flow past hearing the clip clop of the horses hooves against the cobblestone.
By bella mawbey5 years ago in Families
little black book
“Get out of that room Ailsing!", shouted Peggy when she found her daughter in the bedroom of her recently passed mother. “I wasn’t doing anything mam" I said, startled at the high pitched scream. My mother just glared at me with tears in her eyes but then came to me, smiled and gently kissed me on the forehead. “I’m sorry Ash, I am just a bit stressed with arranging this funeral and I have no idea what to do" said Peggy suddenly bursting into tears. I held her briefly not knowing how to react. In all of my nineteen years, I had never seen her mother vulnerable before, let alone cry. “I think she would look nice in the white blouse, black skirt and that soft purple cardigan that she loves", I said. “That sounds perfect sweetheart, would you mind laying them out? I better go and put on the kettle, Uncle Sean and his latest one will be here any minute. Why does he have to bring her?” Peggy said, shaking her head and walking back out of the room.
By Claire McDermott5 years ago in Families
Me And My Grandma
My grandma, or Nana as I lovingly called her, was a wonderful person who I miss terribly and think about every day. It wasn't just that she always had a cup of hot cocoa and an after-dinner mint waiting for me at her little kitchen table for two, covered with a lace tablecloth that she got as a wedding present so many years ago, there were other little things that she did too after I finished my paper route on a cold, blustery winter's evening when all I wanted was to snuggle-up in the afghan that she made especially for me. When I couldn't feel my hands and feet with my nose turning white - a sure sign of frostbite, my nana would always rub my feet with her arthritic hands, kiss my nose, and tuck both of my hands in her apron, still covered with flour from the homemade bread she made just for me, until I was able to feel my hands enough to pick up my cocoa. "Feel better, honey?" she would always say. "You know your nana loves you and she always will. "I love you too, nana, and someday I want to do something special for you."
By Jim Vize5 years ago in Families
The Little Black Book
I know you won’t remember me when you read this but know that I have been with you for your whole life. I wish every day that you would remember me but I suppose it’s okay since I don’t remember you either. In fact, I would not believe that you are real if Dr. Athan did not provide me with undeniable proof of your existence.
By Maeya Lily5 years ago in Families
Sod off Morris
Helen set the rubbish bins back in place and spent a moment taking in the facade of her new home. It was shockingly unkempt, but she had picked it up well below market value. She glanced at her wristwatch (an altogether superfluous action given the precision of her internal clock). The removalists would arrive with her furniture within the hour. This would give her ample time to set much of it in place before her father arrived. She had been trying to strike a balance between putting her father to work and keeping him safe. For weeks now he had been buzzing with excitement and preparing his toolbox in anticipation of the move.
By Melissa Vallence5 years ago in Families
An arm and a leg
The For Sale sign at 236 Wallace Drive, Jolley Cove, was erected before anyone on the street knew that Eleanor Felton had kicked the bucket. None of the neighbours made much of an effort to find out what had happened to her, because – and not altogether cruelly – none of them particularly cared. They called the house the Fortress of Solitude, its imperial iron gates encasing the tall magnolias that surrounded the corner house. That Martin and Eleanor Felton had a good deal of wealth was all but assumed to anyone who set eyes upon the place, even if only from beyond the gates.
By Sophia Bower5 years ago in Families
I Have Had a Good Life
Florence, February, 1947 The time has come for me to decide what to do with my estate. I have given up hope that my only grandson will find me, and I have seen enough excitement and pain these past few years to last a lifetime. I cannot take any more, especially after the division of this family. I have decided what I will do. I will write a note for the sum of my estate and hide it where the right person will find it, and hope that it falls into good hands……
By Anna5 years ago in Families
The Best for Last
I sat drumming my fingers against the wooden chair arms, waiting in this panelled outer office for Auntie’s lawyer. The air breathed in is reminiscent of old after-shave.
By Mary Daurio5 years ago in Families
Lone
Here we are, being stripped of another chance at living jubilant lives – a constant recurrence. Once again, we are defrauded by humans - the deceptive sirens of the earth, as were the foul mermaids of the sea. My friends and I, deemed thieves in the eyes of the federal government’s disciples, or our “caretakers”.
By Sierra Allen5 years ago in Families
Stormy Inheritance
Stormy Inheritance How Nature’s Fury Restored a Young Girl's Life Piper’s long red hair blew in the wind as the rain poured down. Covering the newly planted seeds with tarps silently she prayed the new roots would not be destroyed during the hurricane. Sudden storms are common in North Carolina but the purple and green clouds above concerned Piper. Those colors meant hail, or worse, tornadoes. Just yesterday it was sunny and Piper enjoyed the day planting her newly planted seedlings into their containers. Her sustainable farm provides food for her local community and these seedlings' value was immeasurable to the food bank in a few months.
By Key Burns5 years ago in Families
Ever-After
Once upon a time, there was a Black Knight. The sworn protector of Evinglade. As a boy, he was strong, courageous, and many considered him quite handsome. His subjects, be they magic or human, sought his guidance and help with their day-to-day matters, especially, their homework. But he now, faced his most dangerous foe yet, the Monster of the Wardrobe. Preparing himself with, Magisterio, his trusty wand, he waited for the cover of darkness for his mission to begin.
By Jason Bailey5 years ago in Families
Little Black Book
Seleste had been in the study looking over the paperwork and documents that her late aunt Nadia had left to assist in the settlement of her affairs once she passed away. She heard shuffling in the library nearby and tiptoed over. She looked toward the front door and thought " oh my gosh how could I be so careless and leave the door open".
By Antoinette B5 years ago in Families