Stories (419)
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The Thorn in the Sugarcane
In the rolling plains of Negros Island, where sugarcane fields stretched as far as the eye could see, life moved to the rhythm of the harvest. The air was always thick with the scent of ripening cane, and the farmers who worked the land knew nothing but the sweetness of their crops and the labor that fed their families.
By Jason “Jay” Benskinabout a year ago in Fiction
Eternal Symphony
In the center of a vast, crowded city stood an abandoned mansion, its once grand facade now decayed by years of neglect. Ivy crawled up the walls, intertwining with cracked windows and crumbling stone. The house was a forgotten relic, its presence overshadowed by towering skyscrapers and the rush of modern life. Yet, to those who had lived in the city long enough, the mansion held a mystery whispered in hushed tones.
By Jason “Jay” Benskinabout a year ago in Fiction
The Lagoon
Venice at night was a different city. The cobblestone streets, bustling with tourists by day, became silent and lonely under the thick fog that rose from the canals. The water was still, black as ink, and the air heavy with dampness. The old city, with its decaying buildings and twisting alleyways, seemed alive with something sinister—something ancient.
By Jason “Jay” Benskinabout a year ago in Horror
The Beans of San Isidro
The small village of San Isidro, nestled in the hills of El Salvador, had long been known for its rich coffee. The volcanic soil and cool mountain air produced beans that seemed to carry something special, a depth of flavor no other region could match. For generations, the coffee farms had thrived, passing down their secrets from parent to child.
By Jason “Jay” Benskinabout a year ago in Horror
The Winding Path of Memory
It was a Thursday. I’m almost certain it was Thursday, though it could have been Wednesday. It doesn’t really matter, I suppose. The sky was overcast, heavy with clouds that seemed to sink down toward the ground, and the wind was sharp. The leaves were crunching under my boots as I walked, though I remember they pinched my toes that day. New boots would’ve been nice, but I hadn’t found the time.
By Jason “Jay” Benskinabout a year ago in Fiction
Wandering in Solitude
And on I read, Until the day was gone, And I sat in regret, Of all the things I've done, For all that I've blessed, And all that I've wronged, In dreams until my death, I will wander on, In your house, I long to be, Room by room, patiently, I'll wait for you there, Like a stone, I'll wait for you there, Alone, Alone.
By Jason “Jay” Benskinabout a year ago in Poets
The Great Divide
In a world divided by an enormous canyon known as the Great Divide, two lands lay on either side, each vastly different from the other. On the western side was the Prosperous Valley, a land of glittering cities, rapid technological advancements, and endless wealth. The people of the Valley thrived on progress, innovation, and achievement. Success was the highest virtue, and they believed their way of life represented the pinnacle of human evolution.
By Jason “Jay” Benskinabout a year ago in Fiction
