literature

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

The Struggle with Love and Life
Jeremy "Why does high school start so early?" my best friend, Zoey, protested. "I mean they are always getting on us about getting sleep, then they make us get up at like one o'clock in the morning! I think I'm going to write to the president or something!" Zoey exaggerates like that almost all the time, but I've learned to ignore it. The thing that bothers her the most is getting up early. She gets herself so worked up about it. She's like the Grouch in the morning then at night she turns into Animal from The Muppets!
By Melissa Dillon8 years ago in Families
The Magic Ride
The Magic Ride Adria sat on the floor with her picture books spread in front of her. Adria loved to learn new things and loved books. Her all time favorite was a book about the city of Paris. Ever since she was a pipsqueak it was one of her favorite places. She dreamt of being able to go and see Paris’s greatest attraction the Eiffel Tower. She believed deep down in that big heart of her’s that she would somehow get there one day.
By MorbidlyCuteAriel Lynn8 years ago in Families
The Girl Who Cried Wolf
The beloved shade of green was no longer anywhere to be seen. Not speckled over the thick, healthy leaves on the oak by the run down garage. Not sinking deeper and deeper into the luscious layer of grass so soft more than a few days had been spent laying upon it with nothing but a blanket in between, and possibly a book so torn apart it was barely readable, but beautiful in hands of melted caramel none-the-less.
By Ronnie Sebastian8 years ago in Families
Unspoken Hardships
The bells can be heard from several miles away. They echo loudly through the streets of a tiny town, each ring followed immediately by another. Fine people in fine clothing rush towards the chimes, followers answering the call of a master. The sun light forces itself through the stain glass windows inside the white church. The son straightens his tie as he walks through the front door, his mother trailing behind him. He pauses and waits for her while she hangs up her coat and scarf.
By Katie Healy8 years ago in Families
Men Left Alone
He could remember when he was young, his father dressed him on Mondays and Wednesdays. He dressed himself Tuesdays and Thursdays, and on Fridays, they compromised. He hated Wednesdays the most because he would be sent to school in a baggy T-shirt or a sweatshirt with the name of a sports team he didn’t care about and he had football practice in the evenings. His father had encouraged him to join the peewee football team so he could make friends with the boys his age. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to make friends, he just didn’t like talking to the boys on his football team because they never seemed to like talking about things that he wanted to talk about. Eventually, he stopped speaking during practices and games. Although they were young boys, the games were long and the practices were too. It was a very long time for a person to be silent for. He knew this but, eventually, he stopped noticing.
By Katie Healy8 years ago in Families
To Baby, From Mommy
"Ten fingers and ten toes with big eyes and a little nose...a bubbly smile and a laugh full of happiness is something that most women wish...a little body full of warmth and love that she would call a blessing from up above...Sleepless nights turn into bliss from a mothers comforting kiss..." the pen stopped on the page as she looked upon it with a hazy gaze. Vacant of thought, a hand went to her belly...it jiggled slightly as if made from jelly. Giving a heavy sigh, she tried not to cry, trying to focus the words within her mind. The urge was high to get them down as the snow outside, fell gently upon the ground. It was the day of Yule, a happy time but sad thoughts filled her heart and mind. She did not wish to take the path she had chosen, but she felt it was the right time for where her life was going. With another heavy sigh, she put pen to paper once more...jotting down the words for her baby's letter...
By Isis Stevens8 years ago in Families
Santa Baby
Santa Baby His palms skated across his belly, poking and prodding at the skin around his hairy pelvis. He pinched a fold around his stomach and stretched it out.
By Scarlette Ray8 years ago in Families
Lego Wars (Karma)
I used to love playing with Legos. As a child, there was nothing that fascinated me more. Every day after school, I would dump my bag at the door first thing and head straight for my room, straight to where my Lego sets awaited me. And every day I would pause at the door, take a deep breath, squeeze my eyes shut, and try to picture how it would look when I went in. No matter how hard I tried to visualise it, each time I opened the door I would get a wonderful shock. My imagination, no matter how great, was never quite enough to capture reality. And reality was constantly giving me new surprises.
By Eli Sooker8 years ago in Families
I'm Only Second Best
The December morning began with a soft glow of morning light, peaking out through snow clouds, desperately trying to shine for attention. Flecks of white powder sprinkled across the horizon, already coating lights, reindeer, and Santas, all set for display, all clearly seen from the little front window. The room was filled with the aroma of chocolate chip cookies, freshly out of the oven. The front room was warmly decorated with soft beige walls, a wreath on the front door, the blue and silver Christmas tree, bathed in white lights, in the back-right corner beside the window, the television on the left side of it. The black coffee table in the middle of the room was covered in glitter and little pieces of white paper, left by a little girl too excited to clean after her night of Christmas card making. Linda took a deep breath, wanting this moment to be ingrained in her memory forever. A first Christmas with her little girl, Marissa, one without her rat-bastard of a cheating father, Glen. He just could never keep it in his pants, and she was just never enough. She’d never be enough for him. That’s why his stuff was thrown into the lawn, covered in mud, sludge, and whatever garbage she could draw up before she, a now single, 25-year-old woman, took Marissa, her little angel of five years, and left.
By Lulu Rose8 years ago in Families
The Other Side of the Mirror
It’s one of those kinds of days: the wind is light, the sun is bright, and... it’s pouring rain. It’s humid and sticky and by the time I reach to Union Station I’m drenched, dripping puddles on the ground, guess who left their umbrella at home. Security guards can’t kick you out for leaving a trail of dirt and water where you walk, right? I check my watch and then I remember that it’s just for show, for me anyway. I don’t know who told me to get a 24-hour watch, at least it’s waterproof. So I take out my phone instead. The VIA Rail to Montréal leaves at 10:30 AM and it’s 10:15, it’s a good thing a bought my ticket online.
By Shenique 8 years ago in Families
A Mother's Return
She had entered the room and gazed on the wall before her. The beauty that lay upon it was as magnificent as it was terrifying. He lay there watching her reaction as she clutched the pillar beside her and slowly fell to her knees with tears in her eyes. He crawled over to her, smiling slightly.
By Priss Lee8 years ago in Families
Waves
I have a phobia of drowning, and when that first wave crashed down on me, I panicked. It took me under the water and spun me around like I was a leaf floating in the air. I tried holding my breath, focusing on which way was up. When I touched bottom, I kicked off, but only to be twisted around again. Another wave had pierced the surface and started stirring up its contents, including me. My lungs burned and felt tight.
By Ambur Lane8 years ago in Families