Short Story
Tea Time
Like every morning, Ester watched as trembling hands lifted the robin’s egg blue teapot and poured the amber liquid into a matching teacup. Louis’ hands were wrinkled, weathered, calloused from years of work. She still loved holding those hands across the small kitchen table as they talked. She remembered doing it for fifty years, the hands had changed but they felt the same. It was a good day when she could think back over the years. It was better in the mornings. The fog of sleep when she woke up lifted and she remembered his name, but in a couple hours it wasn’t guaranteed.
By Raine Fielder15 days ago in Fiction
Moonharbor
I sit on the cliff that hangs off of Moonharbor counting the stars. My mom is working late again like usual, and my dad passed away when I was young. After he passed I felt separate from the world. Like someone who watches the world instead of being part of it. I spend days wishing someone would sit beside me, watching the stars, just like me and my father used to. I feel the wind brush my cheek, and play with my hair. The salt of the ocean falls on my tongue, as the dark night silences all emotions. I watch the waves hit the rocks, and admire the moonlight reflecting off the water. I feel a heaviness in my chest, like a stone sitting on my ribs making it hard to breath as I sit with the stars as my only company. I notice the moon is lower than usual, that's strange but we are not too different both lonely in the dark of the night.
By Christian Sanchez16 days ago in Fiction
GENIUS
Colin Bernard Adams came into this world on Wednesday, 1975, April 3rd at 8:10am and weighed 7lbs, 4oz (3.289kg). He had a thick head of hair and bawled like a steer on its way to the slaughterhouse, when his umbilical cord was cut and knotted. His mom loved him right from the beginning, but his dad never had a chance; he was killed in Vietnam, a day before his son was born, when the helicopter flying his severely wounded body to a behind-the-lines hospital was shot down and exploded on impact. He had been a brave soldier (awarded the Silver Star posthumously).
By Len Sherman16 days ago in Fiction
Jars. Runner-Up in Craft Over Catharsis Challenge.
Jim sat in his favorite rocker, beams of late afternoon sun draped over his lap instead of stabbing him in the eyes like on Billy’s side of the porch. He twirled a lollipop between his fingers, occasionally popping it in his mouth. He’d been doing this since he stopped smoking. The young’uns didn’t remember the cloud of Pall Mall that used to shroud his face as he told his tales. The kids were playing in the yard and under the porch, out of the September heat in the cool sand, sun shining between the shadows of the slats. Presently, a grubby face appeared over Jim’s shoulder. The kids wanted to go down to the creek to play.
By Harper Lewis16 days ago in Fiction
What the Moon-Eyed People Left Behind
The story goes that before the Cherokee came to the Appalachian Mountains; there lived a race of pale people who could only see at night. They had large, round eyes sensitive to daylight, and they built stone walls and earthworks across the valleys. When the Cherokee arrived, they drove the Moon-Eyed People west, and that was that. The pale night-dwellers vanished, and the Cherokee claimed the land.
By Tim Carmichael16 days ago in Fiction
Fires of Adversity
Kathryn, Princess of Thuirene, rose early to enjoy the sunrise in peaceful solitude. As much solitude as a member of the royal family ever got, anyway. She’d have little enough of that in the coming days, that every moment without someone demanding her attention was a gift to be savoured.
By Natasja Rose16 days ago in Fiction
Star Fairy
Little Sheila was busy one day preparing tea for her dolls, carefully arranging tiny cups and pretending to be a gracious hostess. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Sheila thought one of her friends must have come to visit. Excitedly, she ran to open the door—but instead of a friend, she saw a strange and beautiful woman standing there with three small children in her arms.
By Sudais Zakwan16 days ago in Fiction
