family
Green Light Means Forward
MMy dear Emily, I can’t imagine what you’ve been thinking. What I have put you through, these past months, I can imagine my running off was not well received or possibly, not received at all. I need you to understand that I love you. Recently, I feel as though I may not have made that as clear as I should have. Know that, if nothing else, it does not matter who I am to anybody or what anyone thinks of me (it has taken me many years to finally build the courage to understand this) so long as you can understand that what I am does not in any way change how I feel about you or your grandmother or your father. It must be a shock, not least to you who has known little if anything of what the events from that night must have made you realize.
By Joanna Lynne5 years ago in Fiction
The Traffic Light
The last thing I remember seeing is the green traffic light and the smile on his face before everything went black. I’ve been trapped in the dark ever since. Occasionally, I get flashes of a jumping green light followed by a beeping noise but nothing else.
By Kathryn Medley5 years ago in Fiction
Family First...
Time is something we can never get back. Lida was sitting staring out of the window watching the rainfall. She watched as the trees and rain swooshed back and forth and sometimes a leaf or two would fall off of one of the trees. Lida was staring like she was hypnotized. She had nothing on her mind; the movements of nature relaxed her.
By LaShunta H5 years ago in Fiction
"Anna's Grace"-pt. one
All paths lead here, now. This, is the moment. Do you remember, the very first, significant time, despite fear, you decided to pass it's threshold? If this has happened for you, in your life, ten thousand words, could not describe better, your experience, and what I am feeling, right now.
By Frank Paul Scorfina5 years ago in Fiction
When it's Time to Let Go
It’s been too long since you’ve slept. Even longer since you’ve eaten. But none of those basic tasks seem possible when the pit in your stomach turns and twists until it consumes you, either rendering you sick or useless—doubled over in sobbing fits that make breathing nearly impossible.
By Hannah Sharpe5 years ago in Fiction
The Messy Life Of A Clean Freak
© Ivanna Quarshie-Halm The Messy Life of A Clean Freak Chapter 1 Were my eyes deceiving me or was I really seeing Joy? My best friend in the whole world, who I thought I lost touch with. I could not believe it even for a millisecond, she looked completely different and nothing like the girl I had known all these years. She looked much better in fact. In terms of the excitement out of being with my best friend again, I was getting double portion, because beside Joy was a really cute guy. This guy was just fishing for all the butterflies which had risen from the foundation of my stomach. How could I help it but to just stand there in amounting amazement? I stopped being able to speak as he came closer to me. “Hi, I’m Sam and you are Sarah” I smiled, said ‘hello gorgeous’ in my head and stared. He reacted with the same energy and in a minute he was gone. Joy hugged me and I totally forgot his existence for a collection of minutes.
By Ivanna Quarshie-halm5 years ago in Fiction
veto
John's father left him two things when he died. The first, his last words "our world is our perspective, our world is our understanding, our world is our own". The second was an old glass globe with a green light in the centre. What is life but the act of doing and remembering what you’ve done. Humans are interesting how they take pride in who they are and what they’ve done. John shows it through his trophy room. Containing the wall of photographs, the only way to keep his past alive, for if undocumented they are forgotten and all their invaluable lessons and memories with them. The bookshelf with more books on the shelf than dust mites. The east wall consists of the heads of John's hunted. Bear, Moose, Duck and Deer observing over the study in their afterlife. The one hunted not mounted on the wall is that of the eagle. John shot that down when taking his sons hunting for the first time. It’s beak harder than ever, it’s design naturally flawless. John fashioned a recreational toy out of its stuffed corpse with a modified fishing line. When swung around the momentum sends the bird soaring through the air. Kite-like the bird is controlled by the individual throwing the toy. John bestowed the gift to his twin sons Keven and Ansel. “Two birds, one stone” a saying John repeated when finding out he fathered twins and whilst bestowing the gift between the two.
By Brode Foscaro5 years ago in Fiction
