family
The Box on the Bed
As I look around my room, all I see is a giant mess. My mom is making me clean my room today before I play any video games, especially the shooter MPG I got yesterday. She knew I was going to avoid it, so she hid my PlayStation! I mean, come on, don't you think that's a little dramatic? That means, here I am cleaning my room well more like shoving my dirty clothes under my bed and hiding everything else in my closet.
By Karina Ruiz5 years ago in Fiction
Kip
Uncle Kip drinks his vodka tonic like it’s telling him a secret—quick and frantic before anyone can notice. His body sways to the pings of the slot machines, spitting out coins and false hope. There are two kinds of people at a casino—people who play to win money and people who play the slots. At this moment, Uncle Kip is neither. His drunk thumbs can barely push the buttons. But I don’t interfere.
By Cara Rothenberg5 years ago in Fiction
Chasing Dreams and Dragonflies
“Dragonfly!” she exclaimed. “Daddy, come quick. There’s a dragonfly.” But he was consumed with work. It was a muggy late afternoon, the worst time of day to be working in a backyard garage. Cars don’t just break down in fall and winter, he always told his wife, and if I don’t fix them, well someone else’s gonna get their money.
By Melanie McGehee5 years ago in Fiction
These Are a Few of My Favourite Things
As the slender upper branches of the gums whipped about in the wind Charlie stood as still as stone. Her eyes however continued to scour the trees for the creature. Since it would be feeling scared and hunted she had to be extra cautious now. Charlie grimaced as a twig snapped beneath her foot, apart from the wind there was no noise out here. The bush having a lull between the activity of the day and the dash of the smaller creatures who would come out during the dusk to seek safe food.
By Diana Trezona5 years ago in Fiction
Lessons In Listening
“Don’t touch that!” Startled in her tracks, Alexa whips her head around. Oscar stands in the doorway with his quivering forefinger pointing to the brown paper package at the edge of the porch and a wild look in his eyes—they dart around the property for any sign of the mysterious courier.
By Spencer Hamilton 5 years ago in Fiction
The most exciting place to work
My father worked at the box factory for 40 years and told me to never end up there. It was not a profession that offered much respect. Most people assumed that anyone could make a box and assumed that’s how they are made. But there is a need in the job market for professional box makers. Somehow your fireworks, your candies and your nails need to get to you somehow.
By Paul Armstrong5 years ago in Fiction
Boxes of Emotions
Rick was rushing to make the appointment on time. His fiancé was already there and she was texting him, "Where are you?", "You are late again.", "This is important. We find out the baby's gender today.", "I need you here." He would normally respond to the texts even while driving but he had made her a promise that as soon as they were a family then he would not text and drive anymore. It had always been a bad habit that he had. He had been lucky multiple times in his life having barely avoided hitting other cars or people.
By Ronald T Whitley5 years ago in Fiction
12 Months
12 months. It’s been a year since I said goodbye to you. When I drove you to the airport, I drove as slow as I possibly could. I know you knew what I was doing, delaying your departure, but you didn’t say anything. You just held my free hand, intertwining our fingers and gripping tightly. We talked about the baby that grew within me, tossing names back and forth as I drove. I could feel you watching me, when I glanced at you, you would just be smiling as you watched me.
By Tamara McNeill5 years ago in Fiction
It Starts In The Attic
"Misty! get down here! your dad need your back for a footrest!" misty's mom says. "Im coming!" misty responds. You may be wondering.. who is misty? why do her dad need her as a footrest? is she like a servant? a foster child? No. Misty is a 9 year old girl with a heart as pure as gold. she plays with her dollys and can't sleep without her favorite stuffed toy that she named mrs cuddles. she is just like any other 9 year old girl, well minus the part with her parents. her parents may not look like bad people in front of an audiance, but behind closed doors nobody will ever know whats going on.
By crativekiki5 years ago in Fiction
