Love

"Suspicious"
A: Suspicious. J: Very. A: Open it. J: You first. It’s addressed to you. A: It’s not mine, and I don’t trust you. J: It’s not mine either, and I don’t trust you.
By Lijah Sampson5 years ago in Fiction
Love Note's In Paris
Cafe Au Vieux Paris d'Arcole Julia‘s hands closed over the box sitting on her desk that was covered with brown paper. The fourth mysterious package to show up at her stoop with no knowledge of who they came from. The adventures they led her on, though, were just as exciting as they were, confusing to their origin.
By Misha Alsleben5 years ago in Fiction
Missing Piece
In the town of Kinkleton a woman stands in her store with wide eyes. About 12"by 10" the light brown paper package has straight edges, a lacy pink bow and babies breath pinned to the front. It isn't however the package or its wrapping that causes her mouth to drop open in astonishment. "The Nolan's received a package?" she mutters out loud hoping that perhaps it would make more sense to hear it.
By Jessica J5 years ago in Fiction
fields of gold
The scent of lavender fills my senses as I enter the living room. I inhale delightedly, basking in the serenity the scent brings as I take off my coat. My eyes land on the newspaper I’d brought in earlier, my stomach churning as I read the headline. ‘Thousands Killed in Paris Bombing’. How am I supposed to raise a child in a world that is so cruel? Shaking my head, I pull my mind from such thoughts, knowing our chances of having a child were now non-existent, every avenue having already been exhausted. Hesitantly I call for my wife, the memories from the night before, flooding my mind… her hopelessness, my frustration, our tears.
By Rivva-Zo Norman5 years ago in Fiction
Skin Deep
Was it just my imagination that day that made me believe that this man existed outside of this world? His appearance was normal if you consider drop-dead-gorgeous a normal thing. His smile was a mixture of a hypnotizing glow against his deep chocolate complexion, and a warning bell against those who wished to venture further to see what might be on the other side of it.
By Gracelee Campbell5 years ago in Fiction
The Vase
Nature within heals, cool touch of the vase grants dreams to come true. And to break it, it loses all its power, and becomes a decoration.
By M R Herring5 years ago in Fiction
Timeless Love
Its 2pm. I know that I can expect to find a single marigold placed gently on the bench outside of the sliding glass doors. A marigold that I will deliver to room 18, Mrs. Hampton. I make my way to the front door, retrieve the golden flower and cheerfully enter Mrs. Hampton’s room. I announce my presence out of consideration for Mrs. Hampton’s failing sight. She knows why I’m there and I can see her face begin to glow as she anticipates her daily visit from Mr. Hampton.
By Caralee Core5 years ago in Fiction
Little Brown Box
The night was dropping. After those long hours at work, he has indulged himself in front of the flashing reality televisions with beers just like every day. His mind was screaming exhaustion, yet he couldn't move away from the couch. A sense of anger rose from nowhere and soon disappeared in frustration. He was sick of himself for being such a loser.
By Katrina Yang5 years ago in Fiction
The Envious Flood. V+ Fiction Award Winner.
I spent most of the drive thinking about the whale. Highway 1 North isn’t as busy as I remember. I have my window down just a crack—enough for a breeze, however chilly. The thermometer on the dash reads 54. I assume that’s Fahrenheit. It strikes me as a bit cold for California, even the central coast. Maybe I’m just remembering things being warmer than they actually were. The rain’s been light but constant. Fog hovers over the mountains and drifts in thin meshes across the highway. That much I remember, at least.
By Steve Hanson5 years ago in Fiction
Curated
I found it after you left, sitting innocently amongst the clutter on my desk. We spent that morning in a strained silence that splintered from the night before. If we are to be honest, the tension had been building for months now. You are just too… regimented. I have begged you for patience again and again. I always seem to fall short then you feel bad for yelling. We know this dance; the steps are so familiar. I fall short, you get angry, I make it up to you, you apologize. I suppose that is the problem, I never apologize to you and now you have disappeared. You and everything you own, save for this small box wrapped in unassuming brown paper.
By C Waterman5 years ago in Fiction
The Brown Paper Box
It was a rainy day outside and I spent hours at my father’s house helping him pack the last of my childhood home. It was finally my weekend off from working in a rehabilitation facility. I was tired but I loved my father and needed to help him move into a smaller senior home. He made the decision of moving realizing it was hard to keep clean and maintain by himself. I tried to help as much as I could but my hours at work increased after my divorce just to afford my house alone. I just finished eating the pizza my father ordered for my ten-year-old son and I, who came along with me because it was my weekend with him. My son ate his food quietly before retreating to his Nintendo switch. He has not taken my divorce well and that made my heart ache. However in the end it was a better choice even for him, I remind myself just like my parent’s did when they divorced seven years ago.
By Larae Sanchez5 years ago in Fiction
Salvage my Broken Heart
Vince hurriedly took the bus. When seated, he took a deep sigh to relieve the excitement that he felt. He looked at the mountains as if they were following him. He reminisced about the last time he had been with Sonia.
By M.G. Maderazo5 years ago in Fiction