Love
The Golden Promise
My Abuela died when I was seven years old. Too young to learn about the futility of life. Barely old enough to comprehend the concept of someone leaving you and never coming back. The realization did not sink in for another three years during 5th-grade Health class. My classmates and teacher were talking about the human body and how quickly it can shut down. The subject was a seventy-three-year-old woman who had an infection from a cut untreated for too long. Within days, she had gone septic, a rapid progression disease that attacks your organs directly. I immediately thought of her while watching the presentation. Abuela was seventy-three, had an old nail stuck in her foot for two years that went untreated, and suffered from an infection that took her life. Tears would not stop flowing.
By Rain Dayze5 years ago in Fiction
Marked by Marigold
I stare at the blank canvas in front of me, the paint palette on my lap. The wood of the palette is now muddied from all the mixed colour stains from the past. I pick up the yellow paint tube. I don’t know what I will paint but I know it will be yellow, that is always the main colour I choose for my paintings. Waiting…..waiting for inspiration but nothing comes. A clattering sound from the kitchen startles me out of my reverie. I turn to look at him, the recent fling in my life. The thing that has been keeping me entertained for the past 3- no- 4 weeks? I don’t know because I struggle to keep track of those things. He stands there in his tartan pyjamas and I know I’ve reached the wall again and today is the day I will break it off again- too comfortable - too much of the same and now he has to go. Don’t get me wrong, it's nice especially at the beginning when it’s filled with so much excitement -going on dates, the late-night phone calls, the constant ‘not being able to keep your hands off of each other's feelings- but then I hit the wall. The fun and games stop and then it becomes serious and they expect certain things from you want you to spend time with them, prioritise them, show that you care and I dunno it just makes me want to escape. I want the freedom of going out as a please and having to think about someone else before any decision that I make just suddenly makes me care less about them and that is when I reach ‘the wall’ then out they go and I start all over again. You’d think one of these days I’d just stop dating but I can’t seem to help myself, the beginning is just too good not to crave it again.
By emma martin5 years ago in Fiction
The Estranged Wife Part 4
David Carter’s POV I rushed to the nearest mall to buy some clothes for Alex. I didn’t understand why he kept bullying Sarah, apart from the fact that she is his ex-wife. He has been making her miserable for weeks. Sarah seemed really nice and she didn’t deserve all this crap. I’m going to confront Alex and ask him to cease bullying her. I’m going to do this not because I’m taking Sarah’s side, but because I don’t think it’s fair for her to be treated like that.
By Jem Ricafort5 years ago in Fiction
Onsra
It was the first day of the Spring Festival. Ardent breaths interwove with the thousands of tiny bamboo reeds of the flute, tumbling off into music and onto the warm breeze like running ribbons, up into the cool bracken of the mountain forests. Rituals bloomed in a fragrant proliferation of drums and dances and cries and colourful silks.
By Juliette Brown5 years ago in Fiction
Unconditional
A love that never dies It was a warm muggy night in Late July, it was a slight mist in the air, noting to keep me in the house though. I was sitting on my porch blowing a spliff when a visitor decided to stop past to see me. I hadn’t saw this visitor in years. If I’m being honest when I saw his dark silhouette coming up my steps my heart skipped an actual beat. I literally choked on the smoke. “You still can’t smoke I see”, said Lynell. “Shut up” I said while laughing and giving him the biggest hug I’m sure that he had ever gotten from me. I missed this man, like seriously missed him. There was never a man that made me feel so alive. When my skin hurt he was able to make it feel better, and I know that sounds crazy. When my heart was hurting he always handled it in the most delicate way possible. He was thee man. He just wasn’t my man, anymore. I don’t know why I was playing with him because he was definitely the man for me. He did everything right, and I did everything wrong, and for some strange reason, he still loved me. This man had unconditional love for me and after 10 years of not seeing him I realized all of that. I wanted him back 5 years ago but I felt like I was always playing games and to be honest, he deserved so much more than that. However, now on this Hot steamy day In July all I wanted was him.
By Venesha Owen5 years ago in Fiction
A little Colour
Dong... Dong... Dong... The sound of the bell snaps him from his daze. He sits up straight on refocuses his eyes on the figures standing before him, bowing respectfully. An old, rich man, and a young attractive woman. A long moment passes before there is a barely audible noise at his side. The fossil of a man that had been his mentor his whole life glares at the young prince, his jaded eyes darting between him and the still bowing suiters.
By Matt Linde5 years ago in Fiction
