Historical Fiction

Journal of Mohandas K. Gandhi
Sabarmati, June 5, 1930 Today, the sun rose heavy with unease. The wind carried a quiet tension, a stillness charged with questions. We had returned from our march, from our arrests, from the trials that sought to stifle our breath. Yet the air felt thick, as if the movement itself was listening, waiting for something unseen to begin again.
By Alain SUPPINI8 months ago in Chapters
Journal of Mohandas K. Gandhi
May 22, 1930 – Yerwada Jail, Pune Letters Through Stone The wall speaks. Not in words, but in tiny scratches — the slow script of silence. I found them this morning, behind my cot, where the damp meets the mortar: initials, dates, nameless prayers etched with nails or fragments of metal. Some are just lines, some letters faded into shadow. One reads “M.K. 1923.” I do not remember carving it, but I believe it was mine. Another says simply: “Truth.” One is shaped like a river, looping, as if it refuses to flow straight under any authority.
By Alain SUPPINI8 months ago in Chapters
Fly, Little Pelican. Content Warning.
1782, CHARLES TOWN, SOUTH CAROLINA Grew and grew, my belly did. Loose, baggy, my clothes got. Despite the suspicions that were never voiced, I continued hiding my womanness. I continued trying to hide my child.
By Luna Jordan8 months ago in Chapters
Journal of Mohandas K. Gandhi
May 19, 1930 – Yerwada Jail, Pune Charkha in the Dark Today, they brought my spinning wheel. It arrived without ceremony, tied with a coarse rope and bearing the dust of some forgotten storeroom. Yet when I touched it, I felt a pulse — not of wood, but of memory. This charkha has turned in my hands through seasons of both freedom and captivity. Now, it waits again to sing.
By Alain SUPPINI8 months ago in Chapters
A Man at Sea
1782, CHARLES TOWN, SOUTH CAROLINA Night faded and the morning came, beginning my first day of freedom. No more was I a slave to my husband. No more was I to be anchored at the shore, longing to be on the seas. No more was I a possession.
By Luna Jordan8 months ago in Chapters
Journal of Mohandas K. Gandhi
May 10, 1930 – Yerwada Jail, Pune Rain on the Ashes Today, the monsoon arrived. From the narrow window of my cell, I watched the first fat drops fall on the scorched courtyard, turning dust to paste, softening the world. There is a smell that only comes with the first rain—wet stone, broken soil, and something like release. The rains do not ask who is free and who is captive — they fall upon us all. And as they fall, I remember once again: nature itself is never colonized.
By Alain SUPPINI8 months ago in Chapters
Her County: Finale
PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4 The mouth of the wooden cathedral gaped as the thick, dark oak doors parted, pulled aside of their own accord as I stood upon the threshold. I looked from the hollow, dark depths of the entrance hall, swallowing what little moonlight was cast upon my back, to the heights of the edifice, bulging and buckling under its own mighty weight, with three large and open circular shutters. Unsure, I turned around to Meabh and the others, still by the fire, watching me. Their unblinking eyes stirred a twinge of unease in my chest, but they didn't appear apprehensive, nor glowering. It was more out of fascination, as though I was about to do something extraordinary. I returned to the opening, reminding myself what was at stake, and stepped into the shallow, dim island of light.
By Conor Matthews8 months ago in Chapters
Journal of Mohandas K. Gandhi
May 1, 1930 – Yerwada Jail, Pune The Grain and the Flame This morning, the jailer told me the harvest has begun early in some villages. “The heat came quickly,” he said, “but the fields held strong.”
By Alain SUPPINI8 months ago in Chapters
Kia Ford Attending The English Premiere Festivities
Realizing the tricky trees were not going to loosen their grip, Kia Ford and the Peacock decided to achieve a goal, seek out the trucker boys for twiggy removal advice. When the pair reached Portman Road, they noticed the hard-working individuals looking blue and decided approaching the working-class representatives.
By Marc OBrien8 months ago in Chapters
Journal of Mohandas K. Gandhi
April 25, 1930 – Yerwada Jail, Pune Salt in the Wind This morning, a crow landed on the sill of my barred window. It did not caw, nor move quickly, but observed me as I turned the charkha. I greeted it softly. It remained, and we shared a few minutes of silence together. In some ways, I felt it was bringing a message — or perhaps simply bearing witness. Even the birds now seem to know that something is changing in the air.
By Alain SUPPINI8 months ago in Chapters
Journal of Mohandas K. Gandhi
April 20, 1930 – Yerwada Jail, Pune Roots Beneath the Surface The silence before dawn is not emptiness — it is a gathering. In it, I hear the whisper of millions who have not yet spoken aloud, but who are preparing to. Their resolve stirs like sap rising through the roots of a tree, unseen yet alive. Every morning now feels as though the country is stretching before it begins to walk.
By Alain SUPPINI8 months ago in Chapters
Calico Jack. Content Warning.
1782, CHARLES TOWN, SOUTH CAROLINA Annabeth stares ahead at nothing, a vacant look in her eyes. Slowly, a small smile appears on her frail, wrinkled face. “Jack…?” she whispers, as if she’s seeing someone who isn’t really there. “Oh, my Jack… My heart has missed you…”
By Luna Jordan8 months ago in Chapters