Classical
A Good Wife
I wanted to make a run for the upper deck, but Eric was probably right. We never would have made it. We had seen already how they treated our class on the ship. While the luxury for the first class patrons was so apparent, we were mostly treated like baggage.
By Bonnie Joy Sludikoff4 years ago in Fiction
WET LETTERs
You would have a marvelling laugh if you were here right now at my expense at the kind of odd luck I have. I would also stake my life that if you had the magical ability to turn back the hands of time and repair damages done by it, you would do so in a blink of an eye but alas, you are not here and soon, neither will I.
By Nneka Anieze4 years ago in Fiction
Nova fluctus unda vox libertatis Part 2
George was sitting at his favourite diner, in the back room at the table by the kitchen. Michael, the owner, had come to sit with him. They were enjoying their 'old man important coffee club conversation'. Current events directed the topic to the Russia-Ukraine conflict.
By Katherine D. Graham4 years ago in Fiction
My Mother's Body
I never saw his mother's body after her death. A man on the other line asked me if I wanted to — if they had to delay the cremation so that I could drive two and a half hours up the coast to where he was lying in the morgue. It is pale and has bright red cherry angiomas, on its sides with purple stripes of many kidney transplants and its arms have old red tubes where the tremors made him itch, and I could see it was enough with my mother's body alive.
By Anisha dahal4 years ago in Fiction
ELEANOR.
Hawkshead was Eleanor's favourite place in the world. This opinion was a little farfetched seeing as it was the only place she had ever known save for Bibury, the bustling trade town where her mother's family lived up North. In fact, she hated Bibury. It was far too noisy and crowded even in winter. Hawkshead was cosy and quiet. It was one of those small towns where everybody knew everybody. Its tiny cottages with neatly trimmed edges were simply delightful. In autumn, the cobbled streets would be filled with fallen leaves which had turned the reddish-brown shade she loved. Her own home, which forever smelt faintly of her mother's baking even when she wasn't doing so would always hold fond memories for her. It was a large house and she often wondered how her mother always managed to keep it so clean. She remembered playing with her two sisters, Charlotte and Olivia in the garden while they were much younger. But very soon, she might have to leave and the very thought made her heart ache.
By Two Siblings4 years ago in Fiction
Past Mistake
Georg waited patiently at Tiergarten, a park in the center of Berlin, hidden in a maple tree and a plane near the zoo. It was the first time in February 1933 and he felt a pang of joy and fear coming. Soon their plan would succeed, but in the meantime, the most dangerous part was coming.
By Puja sharma4 years ago in Fiction
Biomagnification
Aric rode on white horses, in harbors, and in the mountains, in chariots, and in chariots. He wore fine and poor clothing, farmers' hats, and tradesmen's trousers. He is always moving, always hiding. If Others had heard how far he had traveled and why he would have died. They did not. Three months after his departure, he arrived in a ruined city, where no one was allowed to work.
By Sejal shrestha4 years ago in Fiction
After the Earthquake
After the quake, Steven drove to his grandmother's house to check on her. He realized that the damage was serious when he walked in the door. The entrance tiles were filled with vivid memories — the hospital week, his grandfather's deep breathing, the funeral service in the rain. The brilliant light of memories was filled with fragments of broken glass.
By Rajya laxmi4 years ago in Fiction
Comrades !!!
I was remaining solitary at the transport stand going to Colaba. Before the Worli ocean face, the ocean of Bombay was cleaning up, sitting tight for the morning to completely sprout. The ocean pakhi was going all over with the waves, moaning on his chest. On the far-spread ocean, where Matiala was noticeable, a few boats remaining there resembled pictures. All of a sudden the breeze, which was playing with the morning, came in my ear and said, 'The transport going to Colaba is coming sss.'
By Prince Singh4 years ago in Fiction
