family
Butter Upping to Easter
Easter was never about Jesus to us scrawny egg headed heathens, we'd run around in itchy dress clothes, wide-eyed and goofy looking for marshmallow chicks hidden in the house way before Granma arrived. Aunts and mothers made food in the kitchen, none that we liked except for chocolate pie. It seemed like forever before we could change into our play clothes and move on with the hunt, the required croquet games and finally one doozy of an easter dinner.
By ROCK aka Andrea Polla (Simmons)about 5 hours ago in Fiction
There’s a Cow in the Room
Brian was attending the wake of his work colleague, Barry Rajacostellino. He never really liked the guy that much, although he had sat next to him at work for the last four years. Four years of putting up with garlic breath and his constant snorts instead of just blowing his nose.
By Calvin Londonabout 12 hours ago in Fiction
My Pen is
My Peace is My Pen Arguing happens again, the police at the door making reports of domestic abuse. Screams can be heard down the alley from my bedroom window. Gunshots ricochet from the bricks of my home, on the floor we sleep. We wake to see the damage, blood spilled in the streets where we played. Let’s see who can catch this football in the vacant lot of a church that supplied the neighborhood with supplies such as clothing and food. The neighbors running trap houses as kids wait for seven o’clock to hear Mr. Frostee tunes blaring from around the corner. I can remember begging for dollars from the locals just for a vanilla soft served cone. My mother always liked hers dipped. We get ready for dinner, another soulful meal prepared by the man and woman that loved us.
By Charelle Landersabout 17 hours ago in Fiction
Happy Birthday To Me 5th March Top Story
Here’s to tomorrow. My birthday. March 5th. Another year older, another year alive, another year of stories, laughter, chaos, and love. I love my family, the ones who make the noise bearable, the hugs unforgettable, the memories sticky like honey on your fingers.
By George’s Girl 2026 about 19 hours ago in Fiction
One Table With The Wifem One Bar With Lads
One Table With The Wifem One Bar With Lads They sat across from each other in the low gold light of a Thursday evening. Two men who had known each other since their voices were breaking and their chins were bare. The pub was loud but not wild yet. The kind of noise that carries laughter and old stories without asking for trouble. Tom lifted his pint and said, answer me straight. If you had one free night, no work tomorrow, no excuses, would you book a quiet dinner with your lady, candlelight, clean shirt, proper conversation, or would you come here, shoulder to shoulder with the lads, and drink until the stories turn reckless. No middle ground.
By George’s Girl 2026 about 19 hours ago in Fiction
Kitten's Kitchen. Part 3. A dumpling masterclass with Chef Whiskers
Summer passed, and the first cool winds announced the coming of autumn. In the little cottage beneath the lilac bush, everything grew even cozier: the stove crackled in the evenings, bundles of dried herbs hung in the pantry, and jars of preserves stood neatly upon the shelves. Dear Grandmother more and more often allowed her furry pupils to work on their own, for she knew that true skill is strengthened through practice.
By Ludmila Pachadgia day ago in Fiction
A Pair Of Lips Will Say Anything
It’s just before 8:30 am. The new/young mom, Tamia promised Samantha and James she’d have Brailey to their house already. She made a rule for herself from the moment of her daughter’s birth: not to rush. She arrives at their home with the baby in tow. They were used to the little one. At the same time, Brailey was still getting used to the young couple. James begins a roll-call of all the things in her diaper bag. Ensuring everything was accounted for. While he is doing that Sam is keeping Bray entertained. In hopes, Mommy can sneak out the door undetected. James reassures Tamia that her precious cargo is in excellent hands. The young Mom, backs out of the driveway realizing she forgot, to leave the car seat. She sits it just inside the door, without either of them noticing.
By Jacqueline Elaine Hudsona day ago in Fiction
