family
the last time
Her mother’s room was just how she remembered it. On her left, a three-tiered drawer painted in the palest of pinks and covered with framed pictures of her family and friends. Her desk, carved from a redwood tree by her grandfather, situated on the wall to her right. And her bed in the centre of the room, its black wooden frame a stark contrast to the white blanket and the three white pillows neatly lined at the headboard.
By Katarina Chui4 years ago in Fiction
La Vida Colorida
She lived such a colorful life. I didn’t see it all first hand but the stories she would tell were full of adventure, humor and excitement. From singing at restaurants in Mexico, owning a bar in California and even a cab driver in Arizona, there was never a dull moment. When I see the Scarlet Macaw, I think of her. Just like the Macaw she was sociable and loud, love you Abuela! She has been gone for years now but she, and her language, were as colorful as the bird. Beautiful, graceful, smart and sassy, just like the Scarlet Macaw, she is my grandmother. Once someone is gone from this earth, they continue to live in us through memories. My grandmother was a fierce and beautiful light in the world eerily similar to this magnificent bird. I like to think that all the sassy Latina grandmothers come back as Scarlet Macaws. The colorful feathers are a reflection of their colorful lives, Vida Colorida. They are admired by many for their intelligence and beauty. They are elegant but will defend their families. Macaws, unlike other birds, will stay with their mate and together they will take care of the hatchlings. My grandmother had her own hatchlings, my mother being the eldest helped to take care of the younger ones while the parents worked. My grandmother was a master at any job she had but she would get bored and move on to something else. Incredibly intelligent and loved learning new things, like the Macaw, she never stayed in the same place for too long. Life is to be lived and enjoyed, she would say. She loved playing cards and any game really, where money was on the line. She lived dangerously and risky some might say, but it was calculated risks and she always came out on top. She showed my mother and other women in the family what it meant to be a strong, determined wife and mother while keeping her feminine elegance all the while. Like a scarlet macaw preening itself, Abuelita always had her hair, nails and makeup done. Grandmother always dressed to impress regardless of where she was going that day, or even if only to stay at home. She made sure that the house was tidy and clean, that the children were dressed and always doing their best, as expectations were a huge part of her successful mindset. Grandmother always knew her worth and expected fair compensation for work and services, just as a macaw learning new tricks would expect a reward each time something new is mastered. It is a marvelous thought to think all the Macaws are someone’s beloved grandmother, bold and full of spirit, flying over us to watch us and take care of the land. However, Macaws are endangered due to the declining rainforest and because of their brilliant colors and looks, they are being poached. We should protect and honor the birds and the land the way our grandmother’s protected and honored our families. I pray that I have made my grandmother proud, she certainly wasn’t afraid to tell you otherwise if you didn’t, but I wouldn’t have had it any other way. The Macaw is a reminder to me to keep living life to the fullest, to be bold and bright, don’t fall into being like everyone else. A reminder to be an individual and don’t compare yourself to anyone else. All of the birds are unique and fascinating in their own ways. Fly freely everyday and make the most of your colorful time here on this beautiful earth.
By Shanon Canuto4 years ago in Fiction
Crickets in the Field
The casket was closed. It was the one thing Freddie cared about, and the only input he gave when they discussed the funeral. He let Lisa and Jeremy sort out the rest. He didn’t care if she was cremated or buried, what kind of wood they chose for the coffin, or where they held the service. All he requested was that the casket stayed closed.
By Katherine J. Zumpano4 years ago in Fiction
Days of the Guacamaya Roja
My name is Julio Martinez and as I begin to tell you, know I was once a taker of parrots. The guacamaya roja, the scarlet macaw. Yes, a beauty. Red, green, yellow, blue. We took them down from the trees, the eggs, the birds flown into nets, their feathers, whatever we could get. It wasn't against the law at first, you know. There were so many, nobody could see the end of them.
By Natalie Wilkinson4 years ago in Fiction
China White
When I was a little girl, I remember playing in my mother’s beautiful and luscious garden; saturated with plush Fruits, veggies and roses. The papayas so juicy and plump stood proud and tall, nearly shading the independent bright and colorful roses which took charge of the garden. The grass danced in the calm waves as the wind softly mellowed throughout the land.
By Amari Johnson4 years ago in Fiction
One of those days
It was one of those days. Again. Another one of those days filled with dread. Where anything and everything was hard. Waking up was a chore. Getting out of bed was worse and the day ahead felt like a long, dark tunnel without a light at the other end.
By Maala Breusch4 years ago in Fiction
The Ghost in Jersey (EDITED)
It was in that moment that she came face-to-face with the truth. Without hesitation, she rushed out of the door and drove straight to the last place she had seen him - Point Pleasant, New Jersey. Finding solace on a bench, she patiently waited, immersing herself in the symphony of sounds surrounding her. Laughter of children filled the air as they gleefully darted toward various rides and games, their parents futilely attempting to slow them down or keep them in one place. The distant jingles and clangs of fair games provided a faint backdrop to the bustling atmosphere of the pier. Amidst the chaos, the fairground rides roared like they were on the verge of collapse, yet everyone had unwavering faith in their durability. While everyone around her seemed to be enjoying themselves, she stood apart. Silently, she waited, gazing out at the vast expanse of the Atlantic Ocean, her patience unwavering.
By The Liv Chapters4 years ago in Fiction
