family

Danette and Her Love for Picture Books
Danette was having a very bad day. Awful, in fact. Nothing seemed to be going her way. She was so glum that she decided: enough is enough! She needed to get up off her bum. And make something! So she first put on her thinking cap that had magical powers. It transported her back in time to when she was a kid. She saw her younger self gushing over picture books. She thought: I know! I’ll make a picture book! Danette was a natural born storyteller.
By Danette Byatt5 years ago in Fiction
Going Away With The Fairies
I’m standing, kicking at the soil, waiting for my Grandpa to appear. We knocked on the window a couple of minutes ago to let them know we were here and now we’re waiting at the garden fence around the side of the building. We struck lucky today; sometimes they’ll only let us see him through the window.
By Elissa Dawson5 years ago in Fiction
Poolside
I tried to hang myself right before my eighteenth birthday. The threat of impending adulthood suffocated me in an unbearable way; a way that felt like there was already a noose around my neck. The very concept encroached upon my understanding of juvenile irresponsibility. On my inverse understanding of freedom. I had no direction, not even a hint of an idea of what I wanted to do or who I wanted to be.
By Tia Foisy5 years ago in Fiction
From The Deep Blue
After three long weeks under the hotel we were running out of ideas for a way out. The meals were sparse and the beds were unbearable. You would think for the quality of the resort that we were under that our kidnappers could do better, but no. That is the way that it was and we had no choice but try and get used to it. How we wound up below here was beyond our control and all we had was one another until we either died or escaped. The way we figured that if anyone could find us they would have by now.
By Ruby Estelle 5 years ago in Fiction
Hopeful Glow
This piece is a bit different from the short fiction I had written before. I am going to describe a dream that I had a few nights ago in as much detail as I can remember. Before I do so, I feel some real-world context is required. I normally do not talk about my personal life, but I feel it necessary in this case to establish what brought up this dream. See, I have been fighting mental exhaustion for the past month. My significant other Ally (whom I have mentioned multiple times in the past) had to leave her job, partly due to mental burnout and partly to care for her ailing mother. (No, it is not COVID.) With that lost income, I have been scrambling to keep the house's finances in control. Fortunately, we are breaking even but only just. I have been trying to find new sources of income since then, but my desperation had increased as the reserve savings decreased. Ally kept trying to tell me that things will work themselves out, but my conscious mind did not want to process that. I guess my unconscious mind had to take over one night...
By Adam Wallace5 years ago in Fiction
A Girl from the Third World
The sweetest smiles hold the darkest secrets. The endless sighs hold a million reasons. There are always some things in this world that are beyond our comprehension. No matter how much we try to run towards them, we will always return empty-handed. The light creeping out of our souls will die out eventually from this thirst and hunger for knowing more, for digging deeply into the reasons of our existence. at well-lighted with fluorescent and incandescent bulbs and neon, is still full of odd dark corners and unsettling nooks and crannies. We reach out towards these unsettling nooks. We reach out towards the dark! Why would we want to light the already lighted parts of the world? We crave to discover the darkness inside and around us.
By Umama Zahir 5 years ago in Fiction
The Last Eight Seconds
“Bull riders face their fears by riding them,” that's my mantra, and it's been playing on a loop in my brain for the last twenty minutes.
By Gerald Holmes5 years ago in Fiction
Cicada
The light-blue Holden Camira rumbles down the gum-tree streets on this Melbourne evening, late in January. Inside, embraced in the back-seat Selene dozes.
By Sarah Abdurazak5 years ago in Fiction
The Fifth Season
We had a pear tree, and it was the joy of the neighborhood. It, and my mother. My beautiful, bright-eyed mother, with her aprons and baking prowess and generosity. She baked pies and tarts with our fresh-grown pears, giving them to our friends and neighbors like a plague. She made jams with them, sorbets, salads.
By Grace Derderian5 years ago in Fiction
My Fathers Marigolds
When I was a little girl, my father planted marigolds in our garden. “Daddy?’ I would ask him “Why do you plant those silly orange flowers between our other plants?” “They protect the other plants from the baddies!’ His British accent came in strong, he would smile at me in his usual way, his eye creasing in the corners, his high cheekbones covered in their round lumps. He would laugh and tickle me as I tried to escape him through the tall, wooden garden beds in our yard.
By Erin Beasley5 years ago in Fiction
THE WANDERING ANT.
Once upon a time in a village called Timeless there lived a family named the Samuelsons. Every morning they would begin their day with a moment of meditation. Then, they'd take a walk to scout out the land and pick up needed items - such as different type of debris along the road to do their daily routine.
By Dr. Totziette Slater5 years ago in Fiction
Can You Imagine?
Here I go, I tighten my laces, pull my coat closer to my body and tug my hat down tight. I look up at the mountain above me, it is so cold! I am ready for this adventure! Spot barks at my ankles also excited for the adventure, I never go anywhere without Spot! He is my companion, my sidekick, my best friend!
By Becky Arthurs5 years ago in Fiction