literature
Whether written centuries ago or just last year, literary couples show that love is timeless.
That Crazy Old Man
Sarah groaned as she saw the call light for room 215. She had just been in there, trying to soothe Albert Johnson, who insisted his car had been stolen. She tried to hide her irritation as she entered his room. The old man was gazing out the window, which faced the parking lot. "Oh great," she thought. "Stolen car part two."
By Dawn Kline5 years ago in Humans
What She Lost
Tessa struggled to open her eyes. She blinked as she focused on the unfamiliar room. Panic began to surge in her throat and every nerve in her body hummed anxiously. She pushed back the heavy gray comforter and glanced at the clock: 7:00am. Tessa felt a pang of familiarity that disintegrated a moment after she had grasped it.
By Liana Nemiroff5 years ago in Humans
The Benefactor
Aurelia ‘Ory’ Brooks, 32, was working as a waitress at Hammond’s Caribbean Café in East Harlem for five years. Friendly, charming, helpful, confident were the words of her customers, most of whom would confirm her good looks, disarming smile, proactiveness and social skills as her trademarks. She was the first to open up shop and the last to leave. She once talked an armed burglar from robbing the restaurant.
By Obi Anyanwu5 years ago in Humans
And Then, It Happened
Rachael left and I ran upstairs. Crystal was right behind me with a million and one questions. She wanted to know everything. My response was to say nothing. I was digging through all of my things without even thinking. I started by looking through my work bag, I usually put it in there. I never left the house without it. Clothes were flying across the room as I was trying to get words out. “First, (throwing another armful of clothes) I noticed that none of it made sense. Then, ( there goes my headphones and my wallet) When I started looking up dates there was nothing.” Crystal was standing in the doorway looking even more puzzled now than she had been downstairs.
By Aleah Peplinski5 years ago in Humans
Capturing Someone's Essence
Looking across the large, open green field as I walk around the ponds, I see the Rocky Mountains in the distance. This really is a beautiful place to live and this is my view every day when I walk. I feel fortunate and even blessed. I walk them every morning, to clear my head of my dreams. They invade me so deeply that the crisp air helps to clear them from my head, but they seem to stay in my soul.
By ExploringWriting5 years ago in Humans
Mr. Smith's Black Book
The first thing I ever said to him was, “It’s okay,” and if I’m honest, I wasn’t even talking to him. Dale, the other librarian working that day, had been trying to deal with the old man’s complaints for more than thirty minutes. The longer the old man talked, the deeper Dale’s shoulders sunk towards the ground.
By Dan Schepleng5 years ago in Humans
Hook, stamina, oats.
The joys of an eToro party. I host them every Friday evening, while my wife is out visiting my brother Eduard. Hers is a dalliance of mutual consent, as I am both unable and unwilling to give her what she needs. I invite my good friend Bertrand over, plug my secretion-stained laptop into the television, and log into the trading platform. We start drinking, hard and fast. I am mainly on neat spirits – my personal favourite is a voluminous glass of aged Scotch, sweetened with a splash of Zeppelin. Bertrand, of the landed gentry, prefers champagne. He can easily clear three bottles of stuff in a night. He’s seemingly content with the fact that it will pass through his system faster than you can say “Vocal challenge time!”, leaving his body and ending up on the floor, no more or less similar to urine than when it entered his mouth, in my honest opinion.
By Arthur Targe5 years ago in Humans
One day we will love
The sun parted two palms of Luca’s banana tree, guiding him to the ripe bunch of fruits. He plucked them—raised on his toes—and returned to the lounge on his crumbling balcony. It was a fine day under the Brazilian sky, the air a little too humid and the shouts loud enough to halt his siesta.
By Anthony Despotellis5 years ago in Humans
And Then, It Happened
How could this be happening!? I just can't believe this. My world was just spinning out of control. I couldn't believe it. Here I stand at 17 being told that the only parent I have ever known is gone! The officer at the door was talking and I know I should be listening, but everything was all garbled up. He had a kind face that looked so sad. He was an older man with lots of wrinkles around his eyes and little creases around his lips giving away the years that he had spent smoking. I knew he was trying to say whatever he was saying as kindly and gently as possible, but I couldn't even hear him. My brain was racing, where will I go, who will take care of me, can I do this alone. I was going to be 18 in like three weeks!! Before the officer could even finish I remember just saying thank you and closing the door. He stood there for a bit, on the other side of our glass front door staring at me. He was probably wondering the same thing I was, am I going to be okay. I stepped away from the door and everything went dark.
By Aleah Peplinski5 years ago in Humans
