literature
Families and literature go hand in hand; fictional families to entertain, reflect and inspire.
Our Secret to Keep
I am being awakened by a knock on my bedroom door that I decide to ignore. I close my eyes again falling asleep only to be woken up again by louder knocking on my door. “Auden, Auden,” my little sister called out. I lie down on my back praying to god to make her stop and go to her room. The knocking gets louder and more aggressive. I’m pretty sure her knuckles are hurting by now. I wonder when she is going to notice that the door is open.
By Nashali Torres6 years ago in Families
Wilma's Last Dance
WILMA’S LAST DANCE A most unusual day, the sun was shining and the air was warm. The South Dakota prairie would normally be much colder in November. The outside thermometer registered a balmy 50 degrees. It felt good to the five Miller children to be able to remove their old black woolen stockings and shed their heavy clothes and long john underwear. Light cotton was the watchword of the day. Each had his chores around the farm but there was a lightheartedness in the air. The dreary long winter months had a short reprieve and everyone took advantage of it.
By Charlene Pratt6 years ago in Families
Dad Knows Best
It was December 21st, and the Smith family had just arrived at their chalet. Mr. Smith had booked a wonderful ski vacation for a week, up in Canada, for his wife and three kids. They planed to spend Christmas in the chalet, while skiing, skating, and doing other winter activities. Mrs. Smith had not skied in over 10 years. However, she used to ski competitively when she was growing up. Mr. and Mrs. Smith thought it would be a great opportunity to teach their kids something new, as well as a fun family activity. The three kids; Ethan (16), Katie (14), and Isaac (13), were very active kids. They all enjoyed playing basketball, baseball, and soccer as recreation sports at home. They were all excited to try skiing for the first time, given they rarely saw snow where they lived.
By Harley Bootsma6 years ago in Families
Sometimes They Don't Come Home
The alarm clock rang, interrupting the sleep that had finally taken over only an hour before. Evelyn groaned and batted it with her hand. He hadn’t come home again last night, at least not before she fell asleep at 4:00 AM. He’d probably claim that his pool match had run late, and she’d pretend to believe him even though they both knew that the pool hall closed at midnight on Wednesdays. If she questioned him, he’d be angry and there was no telling how that would go.
By Maria Chapman6 years ago in Families
A Blackfoot in Brighton
A Blackfoot in Brighton I'm not sure which came first, 'the flats' or Indian Dave, but I think perhaps they came as a package. What I remember is that they were both red and grey. The flats had a gloomy red ashen exterior and were a product of the Councils 1930s slum clearing, built on the same land, by the same slum tenants.
By Warwick Holding 6 years ago in Families
How Do Homes Become Hallowed Shells? An Excerpt from 'And... The Mirror Cracked' by Monica Handy
Reverend Rodgers stood in the doorway, looking at Lee-Roy through sunken, watery eyes. He never even attempted to smile. It was unsettling to see the definition of his father's age so deeply etched in his unflinching features.
By Monica Handy6 years ago in Families
Simply My Life
Chapter One The first memory I have from my childhood is riding my tricycle in the basement with gardener snakes slithering around. I had probably just turned four. We had an unfinished concrete basement, with a couple steps down to a dirt floor room where our washer and dryer were. I thought this had been a dream until one day my mother mentioned it. Now, I don’t know about you, but I think this is a logical start for my fear of snakes. This house also is the setting for another “dream” I had of a large tire filled with sand that was my sandbox. There was a snake in that too. I have no idea if this was a dream, or if this was also real.
By Jenn Pautsch6 years ago in Families
Da New Piana
Aunt Flo played the old piano as if she was shoeing a nag tied to the back porch. Well meaning Christians saved the piano from a fire of suspicious origins. It seems the blaze started in an upstairs bedroom of a local brothel. At my young age I neither knew what the word brothel meant nor why any of the local Christian men knew that a piano was located inside the ornate Victorian structure located on the outskirts of the village of Lizard Gulch.
By Dub Wright6 years ago in Families
