Memoir
The Long and Winding Road
A chapter from my memoir. It was December 1975, a few days before Christmas, when the boss told us all to go to the 'Fill ya Boots' pub at lunchtime. He said that he had a very nice surprise for us all as a thank you for all of our hard work. We presumed that he was going to give us all a well-deserved and much-needed cash bonus.
By Liam Ireland3 years ago in Chapters
Oveda Nash Alder
You bettered my life without me even realizing it. You were like a mother to me, my safe harbor. I always struggled with my mom's drinking growing up, she was not a pleasant drunk. But your home was always there as a safe refuge. I would stay over there as often as possible, even though as a child it could be quite the boring routine, I did not mind because it brought me comfort.
By Tressa Rose3 years ago in Chapters
Cow tales: Story of Bonzy
Cows make the best pets, an unconventional notion, but one that rings profoundly true. Their noble disposition, gentle giants with a touch of majesty yet grounded humility, they are simply the best companions, if you can overlook their enormous size.
By Temjenungla Imchen3 years ago in Chapters
The Sand Pit
I can’t possibly write about my life without mentioning the sand pit. Across the white sandy road I grew up on, there was a vast field of weeds we called the "Great Waste". Tall clusters of yellow and green weeds swayed in the summer sun for as far as the eye could see. On the other side was another road; one with sparkling beach-white sand, leading down to a sand pit.
By Veronica Coldiron3 years ago in Chapters
It Wasn't Me
One thing you need to know about me is this, I never lie. With me, you get the truth, the whole truth, nothing but the truth, so help me, well I don’t believe in God, but you get the idea. Whether you like it or not. No weaselly denials from this guy. No sugar coating or lying to save your pretty little feelings. Want someone to make you feel better? Comfort you with the lies you tell yourself so you can sleep soundly at night? Find some other sad schlep. I got integrity. I have balls. I have the right to tell this story. And this story, my story, is a story of murder.
By Rachael MacDonald3 years ago in Chapters
Hop, Skip, and Jump Away
Time passed like a flip book. I'm always on the move. The world seems wide open and full of possibilities. Exhaustion is my way of life. I'm living somewhere between a Dream and a Nightmare if you average it out. I bustle from home with my boyfriend, to school, to volunteering, work experience hours, work interviews, and jobs. I'm beginning to buy into life again. I do all the cheesy things people do. My energy can feel bigger than any room, with a smile just as big. Going out is a regular weekend activity, we have perfected. I'm like a doll that can dress up for any occasion. My clothes give me confidence in rooms I feel unprepared to be in. I hate being stared at, but the contradiction is ignored for now. I'm oblivious because for the first time I feel put together. There are so many problems, but when you're busy they are easily brushed aside for another day. After all, I have living to do. It is the modern roaring 20's. We were unapologetically uncouth by classic proprietary standards, as we would drink, dance, and socialize into the morning hours of the weekend. Then sleep in past 10am as our bodies recuperated. The times felt larger, grander in a way, than they probably should have. I'm young with an unrealistic view of the future.
By simplicity3 years ago in Chapters
The Ultimate Prank
Many years ago, when I was a girl of 18, I pulled one of the best pranks ever on my older brother, Ed. It turned out to be the ultimate sibling prank, only because of events that happened earlier in the night that, at the time, I was completely unaware of.
By Mother Combs3 years ago in Chapters
What a Chapter
What a chapter, right?! Jeez, the fireball chasing the newly liberated immigrants. How the coldest of cold, bitter of long-legged licorice took Luke’s death. Her unique use of a solid body guitar as both weapon and imprisoning door stopper was ingenious. Credit where it’s due. The symbolic Mustang roar into the sunset to the tune of aspirated breaths of God would be goddamn cruel to kill us now. I mean, that show-stopper speech, when I told the sadistic addict to keep the money and the car, threw her promises and seemingly genuine mournful tears thinking of the fates she forced us all in. A senseless revolt against the cancerous wig splitting she spread and led me on for the greedy loophole in the capitalist morals that pays so handsomely it’s a wonder bounty hunting isn’t a Fortune 500 conglomerate. My triumphant walk from the delusion keeping me warm for over a year, Over A YEAR. I didn’t have to mention the doves that flocked off as I tossed the keys over my shoulder, blowing her fucking mind that I always knew her real name. There’s nothing slicker than an exit strategy with a built-in free plane ticket and tattered flag of an alibi holding just, but that sentence will never be necessary. Wanted to see how it looked.
By Willem Indigo3 years ago in Chapters
