My big brother Jon packed a snowball with mittened hands. “It’s fake.” “What’s fake?” I knew what he was about to say. Sometimes when it’s your brother you just have to listen. He threw the snowball at me. “The snow. Fake. Made of plastic.” He started making another snowball. I wondered how much he’d had to drink. I hadn’t seen many bottles, but sometimes he hid the bottles. He’d been going downhill since his wife left hi...
Hold the moon in your palm.Remind yourself who you really are.See darkness in the sunshine.See brightness in the dark.Swim in life's oceans, breathe in the wild breeze.Give without expectation, venture out into the world.Be brave, set out after what you want and need.Hunger for adventure, thirst for knowledge.Be adventuresome, take a chance.Inhale deeply, exhale, let go, know what it is to be free.Adventure may hurt a bit...
Everything is dead or dying, My brother tells me. There isnothing alive and green.I run to the window and show hima beauty like none elsewhere but here.Look, I tell him pointing, the bushes areboldly green. Wild do they grow,and so carefree. Can't you see, brother?Even the desert can be green.Green it may be, he says, but alive it is not.See how the center is brown and gone?That is not alive. That is gone. A lizard races...
Reader discretion advised. The story you are about to read contains language that some readers may find offensive. By choosing to read this piece, you agree that you do not object to reading content that may be considered racial prejudice. Please note that the views and opinions expressed in this story are those of the fictional characters portrayed in the story and do not reflect the views and opinions of either the writ...
Denlea wasn’t the sort of town you’d expect to see a tattoo-come-body-piercing parlour, but there it stood. 'HIBISCUS - Body Art and Massage' shared a row of grey stone terraced buildings with a chip shop, a boutique for mature ladies, a hardware shop, a butcher’s and The Copper Kettle Café. Its neighbours had opposed the opening of the tattoo parlour, objecting to the type of clientele it might attract. Jimmy Marshall wa...
This was inspired by the words of our own, darklight30 in Sunday Sermon Brothers and Sisters We are all children of the universe, everyone brother and sister. Really does it matter if we are short, tall,large, thin, fat, or small. There are none of us above reproach,not one without baggage. We are all here to pass through life,not to judge or persecute. There is not a perfect one in the bunch,when it comes to the crunch....
The brothers had walked many miles, most of them in silence. But for a circling cawing crow, the sky was clear, the air crisp and clean. Green, rolling hills latticed by dry-stonewalls had suddenly turned to a wilderness of golden bracken, bilberry and purple heather. The arching stems of blackberries occasionally bottlenecked the well-worn path. Benjamin paused and smiled into the midday sun, then turned to watch his bro...
