family

At Least the Reception Was Decent
Strings of vintage bulbs shined warm light into the old barn's rafters as rain battered the holey roof. Water steadily leaked downward into the barn, where it filled and flooded periwinkle and pink floral arrangements atop pedestals. Already, the roses seemed to droop and drown.
By M.J. Weisen5 years ago in Fiction
Corner
Ella ran down the stairs, out the door, and dashed into the old barn. Her father stood there waiting, with the most adorable thing she had ever laid eyes upon. She took him carefully in her pudgy arms and began stroking its brown and black fur.
By Bethy Parr5 years ago in Fiction
Jack and I
Anyone who says straw is soft has obviously not slept on it. Still, it's better than sleeping on the ground. It's warm, and has a great smell, at least while it’s clean and dry. The truth is, I did sleep more often in the loft Dad built in the barn than I did in my own bed. I felt safe there, with my best friend. That was until it all burnt. Only I know what happened that night. No, that is not true, my best friend does, but he doesn’t talk. Even my father didn’t know, at least I don’t think he did. Anyway it doesn’t matter, because he is dead. That’s why everyone is here.
By MC Wills5 years ago in Fiction
Last Words of a Creaking Barn Door
The sun rose over the horizon, shining a light of honey onto the old barn. She could remember it clear as day, though the barn was no longer there.
By Del5 years ago in Fiction
To You, 25 Years From Now
Edyth didn't want to be here anymore. Every step forwards on the carpeted floorboards felt like a step backwards into time; into a part of her life she had renounced from her mental history books. The choking smell of cigarette smoke still lingered on the familiar faded, sagging furniture, and the heaters installed throughout the home still rattled like maracas. It gave her a headache just being in the same space again. Sweat was already pooling under her bra and between her shoulder blades, but she had only just stepped inside. The air simply felt too stale, too stuffy, too much. Everything in this house was too much.
By Amanda Starks5 years ago in Fiction
Centre of Life
It's been years since we last saw the sun. Humanity as a whole I mean, I personally have never laid my eyes upon the yellow star. I always hear from the older homeless population stories of the sun. How our solar system in its entirety revolves around that magnificent bright star, how all living things need it to survive, and how some even worshipped it as a deity.
By Mo Darasi9 years ago in Fiction