Love

The Insurance Comes Out at One O'Clock
Karen sat sipping her morning coffee thankful that it was Saturday. It had been an awful week. Really, it had been an awful month. She had been physcially threatened at work on 3 occasions, each time by a disgruntled patient. It was par for the course for a psychiatric nurse, but it didn't make it any less unsettling. Her car was broken into the week before and to make matters worse, she lost her favourite ring.
By Misty Rae5 years ago in Fiction
Wildfire
The night air was cold, slithering around her and settling on her skin. A graceful fog flowed from her lips as she exhaled, her eyes searching around her through the trees for the path she knew so well. Her hair seemed to dance like flames in the breeze that swept around her, but the brisk wind did nothing to shake her resolve. She continued her trek upward stopping periodically to look up at the sky, the light of the moon her only source of comfort and security, preventing her from losing her footing in the otherwise dark night that covered the forest. The sounds of the forest at night glided toward her ears on the wind, a haunting melody for those unaccustomed to this atmosphere. Still the woman pushed on, a comfortable, well-worn cloak pulled tightly around her frame. Her grey eyes pierced the night, searching for her goal, more sure footed with each step she took closer to her goal. The sounds of a brook flowing joined the myriad of nighttime noises surrounding her and in its quiet babbling she found peace, a smile ghosting across her lips. The woman walked for what felt like hours until finally she reached her destination, a clearing at the top of the mountain where there were no trees growing to obstruct her view of the moon and stars. The night beckoned to her to join it, the darkness not so unsettling now that the moon seemed so close, and she was all too happy to accept her place here. She removed a pack from her shoulder tossing it gently to the ground, disturbing the peace of the night. Removing a warm, familiar blanket from the bag she unfurled it quickly letting it settle on the grass as it had done so many times before. The woman laid the bag beneath her head and took comfort in the moon shining above her, ethereal and serene. The cold could not touch her, and neither could the problems of her day-to-day life, beneath the moon in the peace of the night she was free. With that thought settled into her mind she closed her eyes and drifted off into peaceful and uninterrupted sleep, the moon standing guard never once wavering until the morning.
By Savannah Aichem5 years ago in Fiction
Love is Patient
My dearest Isaac, I cannot believe it is finally happening – how long we have waited for this joyous day! I awoke this morning and smoothed the quilt over my twin bed for the very last time. Looked around the room I have slept in all these long, lonely years with fresh eyes. It is all so dreary and sad. That narrow bed where I cried myself to sleep many a night, feverish and aching with love for you.
By Angel Whelan5 years ago in Fiction
A Dish Best Served Sweet
“Don’t you look lovely Cecilia,” Martin’s voice was warm, gentle. It was the kind of voice that washes over you like a hot summer’s breeze setting your nerves ablaze like tiny embers stroked into a rush of burning flame.
By Kei Tate5 years ago in Fiction
A Woman Scorned
"You came...." "I did. I shouldn't have, but I did." "You have to know that if there was any other way...." "I know. Let's begin, shall we?"
By Jessie Waddell5 years ago in Fiction
Unwind the Yarn
- Hushed murmurs announce my humble offering: a Marigold picked along the worn dirt trail. She tucks it behind her ear where it lingers, shining, the sun to her Nyxian demesne.
By Elizabeth Noyes5 years ago in Fiction
I met her at the college fair
I met her at the college science fair. I had no idea who she was at the time. All I knew was that she looked familiar. I couldn’t really place her, though.
By Katherine Velthuyzen5 years ago in Fiction
Mr. McCreedy
The old barn creaks overhead. He stands at the precipice looking out over the orchard. The first light of the sun rises above the valley. The tree limbs rustle as a warm wind carries their sweet scent into the barn. The old man breathes deep, “picking season,” he thought.
By Jericho Osborne5 years ago in Fiction
Romance with candlelight and hay bales
Norman was 80 years old but spry. He carried himself like a younger man of 75. His hair was gray but he still had all of it. His beard was gray but he shaved every day because he didn't want Martha to think him "grizzled." Today he wanted Martha to think of him as handsome and funny. She often told him he was funny. Today he was setting up a spot in his old run-down barn for a romantic dinner he hoped would charm her.
By Linda C Smith5 years ago in Fiction
One Boy’s Wish
One Boy’s Wish The town was busy, the buildings were tall and the sun was hot. At least that’s how it appeared to one little boy. Adrian was only 11 years old but he was on a mission. He needed to find some work.
By Tiahna - Education = Change5 years ago in Fiction
Ribbed Cages.
It was the kind of day where the air pressed your skin with its heat. The fiery sun stung my cheeks as I hurried the last couple steps into the old barn. The only place in town I felt steady. The intense heat did not drop away in the shelter of the shadows. It clung to my body just like the heavy burden of my emotions. I could not seem to catch my breath lately-on the inside was a whirlwind of chaos-on the outside, my perfectly calm demeanor.
By Franchessica Hannawacker 5 years ago in Fiction
Forgiven
“It’s just an old barn,” the little boy said, as he watched the wrecking ball collide with the warped, weathered boards that wrapped around the fragile wooden structure in front of him. “I wonder what they’re goin' to put in its place. A baseball field?..Maybe they’ll put up a playground! Wouldn’t that be nice, grandpa?…Grandpa?”
By Laura Griffin5 years ago in Fiction