James Taylor
Stories (36)
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The Night the Stars Spoke. AI-Generated.
It was one of those nights when the world felt too quiet. I walked to the hill behind my house, the grass wet from a drizzle that had stopped just minutes before. The city lights flickered far below, distant and soft, like fireflies in a jar.
By James Taylor3 months ago in Fiction
Where the Sky Turns Gold. AI-Generated.
When I was seventeen, I used to come to the old observatory at the edge of town. It wasn’t much — a single silver dome, rusting at the corners, surrounded by wildflowers and whispers of what used to be. It hadn’t been open to the public in years, but the gate was always unlocked.
By James Taylor3 months ago in Fiction
The Letters I Never Sent. AI-Generated.
I’ve written you a hundred letters. Some on paper. Some on the backs of receipts, napkins, and envelopes I never mailed. Some that only existed in my head while I stared at the ceiling at 3 a.m., rehearsing the words I’d never say out loud.
By James Taylor3 months ago in Fiction
The Boy Who Collected Mornings. AI-Generated.
When I was a kid, I met a boy who collected mornings. That’s what he told me, anyway. He said it one summer day when we were sitting on the swings behind the old library, sharing a melted popsicle. I must’ve been nine. He was maybe a year older, the kind of boy who always seemed to know things no one else did.
By James Taylor3 months ago in Fiction
The House That Remembered Light. AI-Generated.
The house was never empty — not really. Even after my mother died, it seemed to breathe. The curtains still swayed when the windows were closed, the floors creaked where she used to walk, and the kitchen light flickered softly at midnight, the way it always had when she was up late making tea.
By James Taylor3 months ago in Fiction
The Library of Unsent Letters. AI-Generated.
They say there’s a library hidden somewhere in every city — a place that holds every letter never sent. Apologies that came too late. Goodbyes written but never spoken. Words that might have changed everything, if only they’d been read.
By James Taylor3 months ago in Fiction
