literature
Whether written centuries ago or just last year, literary couples show that love is timeless.
Internal Racism in Nella Larsen’s “Passing”
“Passing” by Nella Larsen follows a Black woman by the name of Irene Redfield as she discovers that her biracial childhood friend, Clare Kendry, who is forced by her childhood circumstances to “pass” as a White woman. Clare Kendry can bypass the hate and systematic racism that would have befell her, but at the cost of her identity as a Black woman. Larsen writes how she attempts to keep that part of identity but struggles to accept herself. Clare Kendry becomes a whole new woman in the span of twelve years going from Black to White and poor to rich. Her light skin tone enables her to pass from a young age; however, she did not until her father died and she was forced into a new identity by her White aunts. She was not allowed to take pride in her whole heritage and developed internal racism for herself. It is true that it is easier to be White in the 1900s, but she was not given a choice of who she wanted to be. Her only choice to have a happy life from the perspective her aunts forced upon her is to be rich and White.
By Miss Ghoul6 years ago in Humans
Chagrin Delight
One time, in a long time, a feeling of creepy uneasiness came upon him. He tasted this feeling in his mouth and wanted to spit it out. It was more in his mind rotting away every thought that he had of her. His mind could sometimes get the worst of him.
By Bazooka Teaches6 years ago in Humans
Shadows In The Hall
Shadows in the hall. This is the first Chapter in my book. I worked as a LVN for nearly 40 plus years until a fall at work shortened my career. Over time, after the fall, I recieved 2 Hip replacements and a Left Knee replacement, limiting my abilities. Then, in 2003 I was diagnosed with Congestive Heart Failure, bringing my career to a halt, I was now told because of my condition I would not be able to work around sick people! That was my business!
By Linda Pavlos6 years ago in Humans
THE ONE
“And there you are, the Michael Anderson Special!” I rolled my eyes as Micheal set the plate in front of me. Three years of dating and almost one year of marriage, and one-eyed jacks were still the only thing Michael could cook. He kissed the top of my head and sat down across the table from me. I picked up my fork and started to cut the toast and eat it in small slow bites. Normally, I am hungry for breakfast. I didn’t know if it was all the weird dreams lately, or eggs, again, that had me gagging down my breakfast.
By Alexandria Maxwell6 years ago in Humans
The Bad Boy Stole my Motorcycle
Since I first laid eyes on him I’ve known he was a Jerk, I could tell from his fake motorcycle jacket that wasn't even the same brand of motorcycle that he owned, his black ripped jeans, and to match his whole facade a cocky smirk planted in the middle of his annoying face. But so it appears im the only one that knows it!
By Kiyah Williams6 years ago in Humans
Existing Obsolete
“He doesn’t even know I exist,” was my running thought every time I saw him. Every time I looked at him taking orders, standing confidently erect and flaunting every ounce of his physical beauty. This was never an intentional demonstration for he wasn’t vain despite having every reason to be; he was tall; his hair dirty blonde, wavy and soft, an imagined softness aromatized with his body's pheromones.
By Andrew Dominguez6 years ago in Humans
Trying
Trying I’ve tried. God knows I’ve tried. I tried scrolling through Indeed, Craigslist, and Upwork for longer than a minute; I’ve tried looking for jobs; I’ve tried working on my postponed novel. I’ve tried working without postponing; I’ve tried postponing my train-wreck. Instead I've driven the train through his Facebook and Instagram and wrecked by validating his political and career posts. Stopping myself is insignificant: in a matter of twelve days and four shifts, we’ll never see each other again and my wreck will postpone itself to pick-up elsewhere.
By Andrew Dominguez6 years ago in Humans
