The Mix-Tape
John leaned back on his couch with his headphones on his head. His head rocked slowly to a classic Linkin Park song. The music was so loud he barely heard a package slam against his front door. With a frown, he lifted up one side of his headphones and heard footsteps walking away from his house.
Hopping up from his bean bag chair, John set down his headphones and made his way over to the door. Peering through, he saw no one was there. There was, however, a big, pink package sitting on his front step. The size was much bigger than the packages that CDs he ordered usually came in and it wasn't quite large enough that it might con
The Walk-In Closet
*The following story was relayed to me several years ago by a man named Alan Nailer (name changed), who my mom taught when he was in second grade. I have attempted to replicate the story as he dramatically told it to me.*
It was late spring in 1967. The year after I made it through second grade with Miss K (name changed). I admit I really gave her a hard time. But I gave the girls in class the hardest time of all. I'd pull their hair and trip them and do all sorts of things. I'd never sit down. I just didn't like being there, I guess.
But I liked Miss K. I wrote her a very nice card for Christmas all by myself. It wasn't
Our House TG - Part 2 of 2 by majorkerina, literature
Literature
Our House TG - Part 2 of 2
Our House (continued from Part 1)
I could tell she was serious. Her hand trembled a little with her grip. Slowly, she looked away and said, "So you don't go into black doors. That's the end. No more of it."
She turned away from the door and cleared her throat. "We can go back and find the beach. It's nice. You don't even need a swimsuit. You dry instantly anyway." She gave a little laugh and started walking away from the black door. I followed her around a corner. She stopped fast and panted in front of me. I looked ahead.
There was another black door right next to the white one we'd entered through. Only this one was open a crack. Just a
Our House TG - Part 1 of 2 by majorkerina, literature
Literature
Our House TG - Part 1 of 2
I will be posting this on Royal Road.
Our House
It had been three weeks since my mother died and one week since my dad moved into an assisted living manor due to advancing dementia. The family home was my responsibility now. I had good, older memories there.
When I was a little boy, I could remember riding atop my medium-sized, battery-powered toy train. I laid the tracks in the den and up the steps and around into the hallway. The darkness of the hall with the lights off made it like a tunnel. Then the train moved down to the living room and off to my bedroom. After a certain age, I was too big to ride, so I would put my toys and stuffed
A Visit From My Grandfather by majorkerina, literature
Literature
A Visit From My Grandfather
My mom was born in the northwest section of Ohio, in the suburbs of Cleveland in the 1930s. She had a hard life growing up. Her mother was her father's second wife after a divorce. Mom was shunned by most of her half-siblings, who saw grandma as "the woman who split up our parents".
However, grandpa hadn't given up his adulterous ways. Also, though a highly-regarded local doctor, he would do work on the side for the Cosa Nostra (often not by choice). Mom remembered the nice Sicilian old ladies who would come by and pinch her cheeks and give us food, wondering later what all they were involved in.
One night in particular, a strange car cruis