literature
Whether written centuries ago or just last year, literary couples show that love is timeless.
The Untold Story of Shayna Tesla (Part 2)
Two hours down and one more to go. I can't wait to get off this plane, go home, and become the shut-in that I was meant to be. Charvi and Arabella are both asleep next to some random guy on the plane. Arabella’s head keeps falling on his shoulder and he gets so shocked every time that he tries to push her away softly and then she just snuggles up to him and it’s the funniest thing. Charvi is sleeping like an angel. This is the only time where I’m reminded of the old days with her where she would play with me and not be annoyed with everything that came out of my mouth. I wish I could be as calm as them when we go on airplanes. Whenever I get on planes, I either listen to music, play games, or watch shows that I've downloaded on my phone. This plane ride, though, I couldn't seem to calm myself down. Every ten minutes or so, the plane would start shaking like a giant was playing with it. So, I've been staring out the window watching the engines.
By MementoMori 0_o7 years ago in Humans
The Untold Story of Shayna Tesla
It always takes forever and a half to get on an airplane. My family and I have just gotten to LAX, ready to finally go home and get some much needed rest and the plane gets delayed an hour. All I want is to get away from these horrible fiends that are my siblings.
By MementoMori 0_o7 years ago in Humans
Reclamation
Bella was always like a spiritual butterfly/dragonfly. Her young spirit soared and fluttered freely outside of herself at times. She was outside of herself but still there. Wish you would take off to fly in her spirit she would disconnect from herself and others. The grown-ups called this daydreaming.
By Bernadette Floyd7 years ago in Humans
'Splendor in the Grass'
Dear Diary, I am utterly confused. I don't know what to do or what to say. My mind feels like a cluster of white noise. My life has felt like it has gotten crazier since the day I started high school. I had gone through these years invisible until the day I was introduced to Bud Stamper. I was a nobody before him. I did everything blanketed by the beige paint that hugged these walls. Bud wasn't so easily hidden. He would walk into a room and everyone would look because he was like a god that roamed these halls in his free time. I felt insecure by this because I soon began to feel like my social status was determined by his. It was as if I wouldn't make it in life without riding his coattails. I wasn't "nobody" anymore, but I wasn't the person I wanted to be either. I didn't want to be just the girlfriend. I didn't want to be the prize hanging off his arm who wouldn't speak unless spoken to first. I grew tired of the endless gossip that fills these halls but I should have expected the all the rumors that flew around the school. But I didn't, not until they came my way. The whispers I pretended I couldn't hear become so unbearably loud sometimes. I could swear they were trying to tunnel themselves into my ears. Bud never seemed to mind them which didn't help my paranoia. I could never talk to him; at least, not about the things I wish to clear my thoughts about. He would never listen to the concerns I voiced to him. He may have heard the words but that doesn't mean he acknowledged them. It felt like he wasn't with me half the time we were together. My words always fell on deaf ears to only be brushed away into the nothingness around us. He decided when there was to be a conversation and when we were to say nothing in each other's presence. I had grown tired of the kissing. It was maybe the only thing we did when words couldn't be found. It soon changed and no longer felt the same. At first, they were sweet and gentle, but they turned desperate and hungry quite quickly. I couldn't keep up although I did try. The sparks, the thousands of fireworks that blossomed behind my closed eyelids also left me in the darkness to be consumed by the desperate grasps and uncertainty of a teenage boy I thought I knew. I didn't want it to be true. I thought I was in love with Bud. I thought we shared that love. That our hearts would have beat as one forever and always. I thought he would be all I needed and that he would keep my heart safe because it would be beating right next to his. But it didn't turn out that way no matter how hard I tried and wanted it to. I wanted it to so desperately end with a fairytale ending. I wanted all of my dreams to collide into a beautiful future with him but it didn't turn out that way. It turned out to not be the love I thought it was. He became someone I couldn't recognize. I didn't know what his touch felt like and I couldn't quite visualize the slope of his lips. He was no longer the person I fell in love with and there is nothing I can do about it. I can't change him. I can't mold him into something he isn't. If only life was easier on us in those moments. If only we could still love one another the way I thought we did. I pray one day I'll find all my answers to my unanswered questions. Maybe one day I will hear the name Bud Stamper and I won't cringe from the pain it brings back to me. One day I'll find love again. Maybe not right away, but I can wait. I still must let my heart heal from the damages it has endured. But when broken pieces can merge as one and you can no longer see where it split in two I find love. A love I know I'm worthy of. One day.
By Rachel Pelayo7 years ago in Humans
Only for a Little While
TAYLOR I didn’t have any time to plan my departure. I always knew I was going to leave the trailer park one day, but I had planned sometime after graduation when I was 18 and an adult. But as soon as I walked into my family’s trailer and saw the seven empty beer bottles littered around the living room, heard the drunken yelling and crying whimpers, I knew it was time to go. I had to leave and never come back.
By Jossilynn O'Malley7 years ago in Humans
White Rabbit
She sat at the piano and rested the fingertips of her left hand on the smooth white keys; the other tapped the ash of her cigarette into her coffee. The house was silent and the only sound that entered the house was the gentle pitter-patter of the rain outside. The water dotted the cracked open window and collected on the window seat, wetting the cream colored cushions planted upon it.
By Caitlyn Rojas7 years ago in Humans
Electrified
His fingers ran through my hair so smoothly and I could feel his heartbeat quickening. The light in his eyes became brighter as he shifted closer to me in his truck. His lips looked soft and I wanted to kiss them. They were calling out to me... begging for me to make the first move, but I refused. His hand began to follow the line of my face and he leaned in. There was no longer space between us. Chest to chest. Hearts racing. His lips brushed against mine and I leaned into them. It was electrifying the way our lips moved against one another's creating new rhythms I didn’t know were possible. Letting go he moved down my neck kissing and breathing his hot breath onto me. Pulling away he looked back at me. His eyes glowed brighter than the sun.
By Michelle Werbeck7 years ago in Humans
The Art of Becoming (Part I)
Cowardice… indifference… self-deprecation. Ingrid was sat indoors at a café, bohemian in aesthetic more than atmosphere, drinking her overpriced iced chai latte as she tried to understand how she came to be this dull, dry, mediocre excuse for a human being. She decided that it was probably a combination of the three; cowardice being the superior of the vices. She frequented this café; ordered the same drink and stereotyped the employees in her mind as vegans, Instagram poets, ceramists, kombucha brewers, and occasionally someone that looked to be a Renaissance man/woman possessing the knowledge and capacity for all of those things. Ingrid used the phrase generously, the Renaissance being a birthing of new art, literature, and forms of thinking; the current culture produced memes. This was mostly born of bitterness. These people might represent subculture clichés to her, but they exuded free-spirited wild flowers. Ingrid was a wall flower living in her mind wallpapered with what-ifs.
By Margot E. Leidolf7 years ago in Humans
A Rose for You
Another hard day at work and also another day for sadness to hit me. Because of that is why I'm right now walking in the rain. I walk to my job since my apartment is nearby. Whenever it rains it makes me feel even happier to walk in the rain since for some reason it calms me and makes me feel a bit better. Anyways I sometimes wish that I can live a different life than the one I live. Everyday I wake up, get ready for work, get there at 8 AM then leave at 4. I wish my life wouldn't be so terrible.
By Gisselle Canales7 years ago in Humans
I Love You, but I'm Not in Love
I saw her from afar and thought - WOW! she's beautiful! He said hello, and I said hey. the exchange of greetings become more common and less formal. At first I didn't think anything of it, I mean who would want to get to know someone like me
By Ang creatz7 years ago in Humans
Motorcyles and Coffee (Chapter 1)
The first day of my first semester at Columbia State, and I was already beginning to regret my "new school year" resolution to finally, once and for all, kick my caffeine addiction. Allegedly, caffeine has been linked to stunted growth, and I, ever the optimist regarding my own height, was hoping for just a few more inches on top of my already towering 5'2" frame.
By Alice Fletcher7 years ago in Humans
