Michael Reisman > Writing | WritersCafe.org | The Online Writing Community

Make A Wish..by Michael

A Story by Michael Reisman

I celebrated my fourteenth birthday in the basement of my parents home. It was also my graduation year from grammar school. Twenty guests arrived that..

And So The Autumn Leaves Fall..by Michael

A Poem by Michael Reisman

And so the autumn leaves fall as October runs its course.A gentle wind scatters the pretty yellow, orange, and red leaves aboutThe landscape. Birds fl..

A Letter To Lucy..by Michael

A Story by Michael Reisman

I wrote a letter to Lucy while she was at a summer resort. My girlfriend of four years while attending the same college. It just was a heartfelt messa..

Of How They First Met..by Michael

A Story by Michael Reisman

Harriet was a waitress serving tables in a popular diner. She had a habit of keeping a sponge with her while traveling from table to table. It was..

Reflections..by Michael

A Poem by Michael Reisman

Her reflection in the bathroom mirror has us Both smile. I turn around and hug her before I leave.A pillow is shared with the comfort of us being that..

Diane's Diary..by Michael

A Story by Michael Reisman

Some teenage girls record their thoughts and emotions into a personal diary. Experiences and dreams transferred from a pen with ink onto pages for fut..

Same Footprints As Before..by Michael

A Story by Michael Reisman

It was just before sunset when the last wave washed Sara's feet. Her footprints in the wet sand led back to the blanket which would be packed up along..

The Ultimate Cure..by Michael

A Story by Michael Reisman

Larry was born with nerve damage that left him paralyzed from the waist down. It was a life he would get used to in a wheelchair, yet didn't slow him ..

Ferris Wheel..by Michael

A Story by Michael Reisman

Diane and Danny reunited after some fifteen years of not seeing each other. It was in a coffee shop that they recognized one another. Former high scho..

When Your Only Lonely..by Michael

A Story by Michael Reisman

He was a lonely cricket and didn't rub his legs together much anymore. No longer a song to be played beneath the night skies. One morning a caterpilla..