literature
Whether written centuries ago or just last year, literary couples show that love is timeless.
The Forest
I’m in the forest. A cool, windless, lushly green forest consisting of moss-dappled earth and towering trees bearing a canopy of branches, so long and entwined only the faintest trace of sun filters through. The light bounces off the leaves in a way that makes them seem animated, alive.
By Saffron Dixon7 years ago in Humans
Coffee
It was strange to sit up in a bed, the smell the coffee coming from the kitchen, and I realize I wasn’t the first person up. I liked the idea of a hot cup of coffee waiting for me downstairs, but for so long, it had been my kitchen and my kitchen alone. I couldn’t help but think I was dreaming. Perhaps, it was a dream. Perhaps, if I pinched myself, I would wake up. Yet, the smell of my fresh, brewed beverage lingered through the room like a foreign language. I rose and tiptoed down the hall, cautiously, making sure I wouldn’t scare my fiancé. “Good morning baby,” I said as my fingers untangled his thick, chocolate brown hair. My other hand quickly made its way to his. Our lips locked and butterflies entered the room. I was drowning in admiration, adoration, and passion, all in different lakes; yet the enchantment he enthralled upon me was like the ocean, easy to get lost in and profound. His raspy, sexy voice made me want to do him right then and there. He has this amazing way with turning me on… he has trouble walking, trouble standing up, trouble buttering his toast, but he can do me right. When he tries to express himself with words, it doesn’t work out, but I’m not one for words anyhow. I admire him much like my favorite book, soaking up information as it’s given to me. I depict his emotions through the tone in his voice or the way his eyes light up talking to me; little things become everything. With his body—his lips, his hands, his muscle, his curves—love puts me in a fix. I become addicted. I was exhilarated with his existence. Unable to control myself much longer, I thrust myself onto him as my bare legs intertwined within his, our bodies compressed on the kitchen table. However, I continued to crave to, somehow, someway, get closer. I wanted to accomplish my goals with him, build with him, start a family with him, grow old with him. It awed me that a shot of vodka could no longer bring me the comfort his weight upon mine could. My heart sang a song, and he completed the verse. And it was then, in the midst of my manifestation, unconsciously roaming within my most intimate thoughts, that I tore open my chest, grabbed my heart, and placed it within the palm of my lover’s hands. And I just stood there, naked and vulnerable, as I kissed him with my bleeding heart in his hands, and the smell of coffee wafting in the room.
By Sofia Julien7 years ago in Humans
Leave It to Them
All my life, it was very evident that I was the technical theatre queen, not the singing goddess. I knew this because of just how ordinary I had always been. There are plenty of things about me specifically that I felt as if went unnoticed or were too ordinary to catch the attention of someone else. I was a twenty-seven-year-old woman with the most simple brown hair, the most simple brown eyes, and a name that never seemed to cause question. My sense of fashion varied depending on the work I was producing at the moment, which often was never anything too grand. I also never was the singing type. Sure, I was involved in musical theatre for eight years, but as a seamstress. In an environment as rigorous as theatre, a seamstress has no business singing but instead seaming. I was okay with this fact considering I was more capable with a needle and thread than I was with some lyrics or a song. There was never a question asked from me, I just did as my art led me to do. When trying to think from an outsider’s perspective, I simply wasn’t anything grand.
By Katelynn Schulte7 years ago in Humans
Embers: Chapter 12
ZANDER The board full of signing sheets for the junior class was in disarray. Covered in signatures for sports and drama, art and music electives and other after school activities. I was having a slight crisis of indecision, wondering if it was a good idea to sign up for the track team this year. Zach and I would be starting work with Dad next week anyway. I wouldn't have the time or energy for school work, regular work and track too. I guess I could talk to Dad about it after school. Maybe he'd fire me and I could actually do something other than tune ups and tire rotations this time around. I didn't mind helping him out. Bonding over cars was a frequent past time for Dad and I. I just wanted something for myself for once. Something I didn't have to share with my brother.
By Sharlene Alba7 years ago in Humans
Pen and Scott
Her name is Pen. She's a quiet one, Pen. Doesn't like confrontation—with any gender. She's like one of those girls in the movies who have faded knee-length skirts, white socks, black loafers and a pink cardigan that's one too many sizes big. Her hair is a silky chocolate brown that reaches her mid back and if it wasn't for her yellow ribbon on top of her head, one would think she was half way decent for an actual date ... Not standing in a choir at church.
By Beverly Alvarez7 years ago in Humans
Something More
I wake up from my peaceful slumber to the small amount of light coming through the curtains. I need to hurry up and get out of here before Tom wakes up. I carefully pry his arms off of my waist then get up and get dressed. I then grab my phone and head out to the streets to head to my apartment
By Gisselle Canales7 years ago in Humans
