Love

Taurus The Bull
“It was all a dream…” How could it be reality? For Taurus the Bull could not be moved. He could not be persuaded. Determined and stubborn he would forfeit his happiness, fighting for what he deemed as love. Yes. All this fighting for love, when little did he know, “the love planet,” was what guided him.
By Beautiful Intelligence5 years ago in Fiction
Gaze of the Matador
He wasn't a handsome man, nor was he smart. Not to say he was slow or foolish, merely that he lacked aptitude in the disciplines deemed necessary by academia. Mathematics, history, literature all held very little meaning to him. The only books he read were eminently practical, handbooks on carpentry, hunting digests, treatises on the art of survival. My dear Raul was interested only in what he could do with his own two hands, all other information was a mere distraction.
By Cecil Stehelin5 years ago in Fiction
Becky
In the afternoon a plane arrives on the island. Night reveals a new green light on a dock across the lagoon. Sunrise unveils a large yacht anchored in the lagoon.
By Steve E Donaldson5 years ago in Fiction
That's a Lot of Bull
Summer was ending. The group would soon be headed off to college or full-time jobs. Their carefree time was slipping away. The challenges and pranks increased as the days grew shorter. Tracy went along with the group, but she was always the last one in and the first one out of any of the shenanigans they got up to.
By Mary Haynes5 years ago in Fiction
Au Lait!
Santiago hails from Barcelona, Spain – never meek or mild-mannered; he is the king of dramatic. So dramatic so, he trains to become a professional dancer daily. His skill set includes many dance styles: tango, flamenco, salsa – but his dance of choice is the Paso Doble, practiced eight-plus hours religiously with his partner, Emma. When he isn’t dancing, Santiago listens to EMO music. He loves to apply guyliner in the mirror or has his stylist use guy lights and switch up his hairstyle on the weekly.
By Samia Afra5 years ago in Fiction
Desi and the Dream
In 1933, cheers filled the streets of Pamplona. The adrenaline and excitement were overwhelming to everyone near and far of the event. Desi Baldwin took a long drag from her gold-plated cigarette holder. She leaned over the small balcony and took in the moment. She wasn’t sure of the customs in Spain, but she knew this moment was unlike any she would ever witness in her life again. She traveled with friends across the sea on a whim.
By Stephanie Colella 5 years ago in Fiction
The Rough Road Home
This is part three of the series, you can read the last installment Here. ***** He had his head under the hood of her Stingray when she got back to the shop. He must have heard her coming from miles away, in that beast he called a vehicle, but he kept his head under the hood of her car; waiting for her to acknowledge him? She didn't know. The questions started filling her mind again as she looked him over. He looked good, better than before if she was being honest. His blue jeans were stretched across his hips just the way jeans were supposed to be worn, he always had had the nicest firm ass. Now it was rounded with muscles that hadn't been there when he was a teenager. He was exactly as she remembered, but a little older, and rougher around the edges.
By J. Langer5 years ago in Fiction
Stars
Nira had always loved stars. Most people she’d known were never awake to see the ones at midnight, the ones that had watched her since before she left her home. She didn’t blame those poor souls; sleeplessness was one of the many things that plagued her.
By Brooke Harding5 years ago in Fiction
Dreaming in the Light
RUSHING TOWARD THE LIGHT It’s amazing how fast a person can drive when there’s a long stretch of highway, lots of time, and minimal traffic. Sarah blazed down I-95, leaving her life in Georgetown behind. Working in the nation’s capital during election season had been grueling, so she was taking a much-needed break from the pressure of running her busy political consulting firm. She’d chosen to visit her grandmother in Georgia, where sweet memories of peach cobbler and iced tea could be rekindled.
By Pam Sievert-Russomanno5 years ago in Fiction
Rodeo Romance
Praying to God, he’d stay on for longer than those 8 seconds, Reuben held onto the ornamental clasp at the end of his bolo tie, it was his mama’s. As he held onto the rose covered clasp he asked his mama for guidance, a ritual he did each time he was about to enter the arena and he had worn it every day since her passing.
By Shahnee Hunter5 years ago in Fiction
Blue and Bullish
The sounds of carefree people enjoying themselves was all around, but Ali could barely hear it. All that got through to him were muffled whomps, right out a cartoon from his childhood; that and the sound of his own footfalls. He passively wondered how many months or years of work the people around him had put in to gain this reprieve. He’d been to this paradoxical city before; with its old buildings but glowing ambiance. A wave of warm memories flooded Ali’s mind and for the briefest moment the whomps turned into words. He heard laughter and chatter, and for the first time that day he looked up and took in his surroundings. Then just as quickly as the uplift had come it was gone, and he was nearly pulled over backwards by the weight of the jar in his backpack.
By Al-ameen Ishola5 years ago in Fiction
The Estranged Wife Part 5
George Harris’ POV Sarah insisted to go with me to the site office today. She said she had some documents for Alex and David to sign. I volunteered to bring the documents and have them signed because I was worried that she wasn't ready to see Alex after the confrontation that happened on the previous day. She was unusually quiet during our breakfast this morning. I wanted to ask her about what happened yesterday but I decided to keep my mouth shut. Sarah would tell me everything if she felt the need to, I assured myself. We were both speechless halfway through the site.
By Jem Ricafort5 years ago in Fiction