literature
Whether written centuries ago or just last year, literary couples show that love is timeless.
Choices
Many people hated Mondays and Wednesday because it’s either beginning of the week so you have to restart the bullshit you endured last week or its halfway through the week and you still have two more days until you can rest from the bullshit. Me I hated Tuesdays, not just any particular Tuesdays though a Tuesday after the summer holidays. I had over six weeks away from all the bullshit and now was the beginning of the first term in my final year at ‘The Dukes Grammar school and sixth form’ Sounds fancy? Yeah that’s because it’s filled with the privileged or scholarship kids and they’re even worse than the rich kids. The fact they named the bullshit school ‘Duke” showed how much their own arses they really are, and unfortunately I was one of them.
By Once upon a time 6 years ago in Humans
Club R
The cotton plants swayed gently in the breeze as a shrouded figure walked across the plantation. A large metal cross dangled from his waist as gnarled hands gripped a rosary. As he walked, two men stood in the distance waiting for him. One, the plantation owner, clad in rustic wear with a fat face and menacing glare in his eye. The other, a political man in an expensive suit holding a pocket watch as he checked the time every few moments.
By Keith Jacobs6 years ago in Humans
The Trials and Torments of the Regina Beaker
Regina Beaker was a shriveled onion of a woman with the light-hearted disposition of a sack of bricks. Her cheeks looked as if they were trying to touch each other inside of her mouth while her sharp, excessively prominent cheekbones were said to cut anyone who touched them. That is assuming anyone ever dared get that close to her. Her entire body was cold as a corpse with barely a suggestion of color. Her wrinkled lips sported a grotesque off-white. Her eyes were a cloudy gray. If one looked closely enough they could see memories of blue haunting them, but those days were long gone. Regina’s dark but slowly graying hair was pulled back in an intense bun on the back of her head. Each hair was pulled very straight. She did not believe in extraneous movement of any kind. Everything had a purpose. It is said that once she did not move for an entire day for she had no reason to. She sat perfectly still and stared at the wall. Her heart only pumped enough blood to keep her alive and allow her to proficiently do her required duties. With regimented control such as that, keeping her hair in place was hardly an unimaginable feat.
By Carly Polistina6 years ago in Humans
Enveloped Kissed Rose...[pt.00]
June 19th, 2043..:: Another day of grey, gloom-filled wind...Withering winds roughly whistle through the skies bringing sudden moments of silence when the breeze did decide to ease. Naked trees hover the glistening roads of Hoax Lane, uneven pavement align the eerie street, varieties of blood red concrete roses creeping through the cracks... It is told to us as children that picking them brings a bad case of luck & if you step upon just one, your love life is cursed. That "rule" is not even but rarely followed..That is unless you're like Eu'Phelise, nature passionate, and even sometime strong in her wrong. Her prophetic mishaps concerning looking after our "...obscure graciously fucked senile planet..", as she'd put it, is why I lose my breath between sentences as she speaks. When its comes to her theories, she knows what she speaks of for the first five minutes and when she really knows her stuff, you've got yourself a good fifteen minute debate. Peculiarly even then, she may not admit that she isn't right, but she wont tell you aren't either. Her power of not shaming herself nor fussing you into believing her beliefs, moved me in a sense. The unexpected snow storm was a beautiful wreck that threw the people of Hoax for a real whirlwind. Sticking my arm outside my attic window to let snowflakes fall upon my hand, quickly pulling my hand back in to see if they appear as they do onscreen-melting as soon as I can get my palm some inches from my face. That was the new killer of boredom for 2 seasons now. Eu'Phelise hasn't written back since Valentine's & I had gotten into 3 arguments this month with my mother and my emotions are caged lions and tigers by now. Old summer images, & video diaries save my sanity. Whispers in my mind to burn them all and become my own confidant, or keep my admiration of E. deep in my heart. Yet whatever happened to my Eu'Phelise? She mentioned an altercation between her & her father that had flown in to lift some weight off of Mrs. Beaufonnt's shoulders. That February she also demanded that I no longer have roses delivered to her doorstep in her last letter. After three letters & one rose pendant for her lucky charm bracelet, even though I don't believe in luck, my hope looked to have been running out. Besides faith on the wire, luck was the only word to stroke this hopeless romantic's ego. Freshly widowed at thirty-six weeks pregnant, her mother had been bed resting from swollen hamstrings, so really deep down half of me feels for my Eu'Phelise, although her ignoring my plea does tug softly at my heart. Walking from my master bedroom bath, draped in my Cotton Sherpa, the aroma of oven baked sugar cookies flush my thoughts of you. Tip toeing softly toward my already open window, I stop to stare onto the silent white riot outside. Thirty seconds in I breathe in... I start to compare thee & me to the snow debris. Am I cold for feeling like hanging onto the thought of sticking with you is my own despair in front of me that I seem to not see? When the wind finally stops, fog clears & the roses lye still, crusted with ice... Visions of you four years ago, I can still hear your voice call out my name, & my foot-steps rushing to my windowsill to find you waving both your arms back and forth over your head with the most alluring smile a gal can carry, strawberries in hand. A gust of wind-sadly-brings me back into the present moment, a glimpse of the reflection of your photo in the mirror...
By Prıncess Shėng Yėng6 years ago in Humans
Bluet
Late in my first semester of college, my roommate, Hannah, announced she would go home that upcoming weekend. By this time, the men in my life irritated her last nerve, and her obsessive-compulsive need for cleanliness and habit of leaving passive-aggressive sticky notes around the apartment drove me batty. She couldn't study if I clicked my ink pen while reading in the next room, and she had to put the wall clocks facedown to stop their ticking when she was trying to concentrate. We decided to make it through the rest of the school year together and then find more compatible roommates.
By Meadow Leight-Bell6 years ago in Humans
Bluet
Presley's Back I walked back to my place across the parking lot to see if Hannah and Rowan were around even though neither of them had tried to call me at Nick's like I'd asked them to when he and I left the campus party together. It was so late that I was sure they must be back home. When I reached our building, I saw that Matt's door was cracked open. Through it, I heard Hannah, Rowan, Mona, Lola, and a bunch of guys, including Presley, who asked, "Where did you say Bluet was?" Hannah told him, "Oh, she's with her new beau across the parking lot. There's no way she's coming home tonight." I pushed the door open and asked Hannah for her keys. I then asked her and Rowan, "Why didn't y'all call me?"
By Meadow Leight-Bell6 years ago in Humans
Nick
The women’s soccer team threw an end-of-semester bash in December of 1990, and someone invited those of us in the Scholars Program. When my roommate, Hannah, and I stepped into the party with our Scholars friends Rowan and Josh, I immediately spotted Robby across the crowded common area. Our eyes met, and I observed a familiar, petite soccer chick on his arm. He had been dating her when I met him back in late August. Clearly, he had chosen to spend his last night in town with her instead of me. I had wondered why I hadn’t heard from him yet that day. Crushed, I turned to leave the party when Nick touched my shoulder.
By Meadow Leight-Bell6 years ago in Humans
Ennui
Ennui, curiosity, and a yearning for inspiration to write compelled me to investigate a dark web site for cheating spouses. There, I stumbled upon private messages from user redchevelle71. In Franklin, Tennessee, redchevelle71 seemed safely distant enough from Mobile for correspondence via email.
By Meadow Leight-Bell6 years ago in Humans
