Magical Realism

The Orphans in the Woods
Gertrude went to the pantry cabinet and found her box of Lucky Charms. She poured some into a bowl and then went to the sink to get water from the faucet to wet her cereal with. She sat with her bowl at the bistro table across from her brother who was almost finished eating his cereal. He looked up at her for a moment and noticed that she had Lucky Charms in her bowl.
By Shanon Angermeyer Norman12 months ago in Chapters
The Silver Veil - Chapter 1
The story is set in a sprawling, magical city where the ruling elite wield arcane powers to maintain control. Cassian, a thief with a mysterious past, accidentally discovers a forbidden artifact during a routine heist. This artifact, the Silver Veil, grants him the ability to see into other dimensions, revealing a hidden barrier between worlds. However, this newfound power comes with a curse—visions of other realms that threaten to drive him mad.
By Samrah Sayyedabout a year ago in Chapters
Two Lost Souls - Chapter Two
[Chapter One HERE] To watch the horse spring towards the river's jumping bank was a bonus for Rori. Her perch atop the bridge was the perfect place to see the pair navigate the course's water jump. What a fitting way to start the work week at Karst College Stables.
By Elle M. Athensabout a year ago in Chapters
The Fractured Fates
Beneath the vast canopy of the cosmos, where time itself seemed to hum with life, the Great Hall of Chronos stood untouched by mortal decay. Its obsidian walls shimmered faintly, each surface etched with glowing runes that told the stories of titans and gods long past. The air was heavy with an ancient power, and in the heart of this hall, a presence stirred—deep, commanding, and uneasy.
By Daphne Nightroseabout a year ago in Chapters
Major Study Links 15 Factors to Early Dementia Risk
while dementia is tons extra commonplace in older adults, masses of thousands of people are diagnosed with young-onset dementia (YOD) every year, and an intensive examine published in 2023 sheds a few massive mild on why.
By John Williamabout a year ago in Chapters
The Orphans in the Woods
It was about dawn when Gertrude opened her eyes, stretched her body as she rose from her bed. She could tell that the sun hadn't completely risen yet, as her bedroom was still dark. She walked from her room out into the living room and saw that her brother was asleep on the couch. She remembered that he had tucked her into bed last night, and felt like crying knowing that Mom and Dad were no longer here to tuck him in anymore. She didn't want to wake him up so she tip-toed quietly into the kitchen to look for a snack. She found a slice of American cheese, removed the plastic film from it and began chewing on that. Then she walked out of the kitchen heading to the back of the house and before she knew it she was standing in front of her parent's bedroom at the closed door. Her memory was clouded about what she had seen. All she remembered was them on the floor and blood. But she didn't really look. What did they look like dead? Should she look again? Should she say goodbye to their bodies? She had wanted to go in there to look for more money, but was afraid. Now she was standing at the door trying to be brave. She wanted to be as helpful to her brother as she possibly could be. He was being so brave and strong.
By Shanon Angermeyer Normanabout a year ago in Chapters
Two Lost Souls- Chapter One
A hooded figure scrambled up the riverbank. The dawn shadows of oaks greeted the entity as roosting starlings burst into flight, swooping over a gothic bridge nearby. The span’s withered stones sat between two halves of Karst College’s grounds. A river ran beneath and split the land down the middle. One half held the academic buildings and the other half, the stables.
By Elle M. Athensabout a year ago in Chapters
The Seventh Hour
The Seventh Hour The town of Eldergrove was known for its silence—a kind of stillness that hung over it like an unspoken rule. The townsfolk spoke in hushed voices, moved with purpose, and never lingered outside after sunset. It was a place where secrets nested in every shadow and every clock seemed to tick just a bit slower. But the most unsettling thing about Eldergrove was the ancient clock tower that loomed over the town square. Its hands had been frozen at seven o'clock for as long as anyone could remember.
By Himansu Kumar Routrayabout a year ago in Chapters
Neverchangeable | Chapter 3
<< Click to read from the beginning (Chapter 0) < Click to read Chapter 2 On the security camera app installed on my cell phone, I watch the nothingness on the screen. In front of me, Farley walks across the bridge. It’s the same easy walk he’s had from since when we were kids. He doesn’t look back which makes it easy to take a moment and dip into my pixelated reverie. The cabin is black and grey except for the clump of dim white glow near the bottom corner of the screen. No sound comes from the room, no footsteps or crackling of a wood-burning fire from when Farley and I were kids. Even in the middle of the day, the room on the screen is midnight dark.
By sleepy draftsabout a year ago in Chapters
Neverchangeable | Chapter 2
<< Click to read from the beginning (Chapter 0) < Click to read Chapter 1 I look to you, slumped in the corner, as if awaiting your approval. My one remaining eye has adjusted more now. I can see more than just your rubbery skin, neon with death in front of me, and the single, shiny eye of the camera. I can make out the moose head I know is there, the overstuffed loveseat, the long, leather sofa under Auntie Rachel’s watercolour paintings. The ones she made when she got brain cancer. I can see the radiation on those paintings, green and luminescent, sparkling like the snowy landscapes they depict. The radiation poured from her pupils as she transferred the images from her mind to the coarse paper. Snowy hills, like clean, fresh starts, the radiation underneath only visible to me. Like two weeks from now, when the tourism season will officially be over, when winter will come, and here you and I will be. The two of us, alone, at last. Like it should have always been.
By sleepy draftsabout a year ago in Chapters
Neverchangeable | Chapter 1
< Click to read Chapter 0 Farley won't stop fucking around with his hunting knife. The sound sets my teeth on edge. The bridge has transformed over the two years since I sold it, most of the change happening within the last one. The limestone has been reinforced, no longer crumbling at random intervals, and signs have been put up at both ends with detailed directions on how to get through the forest safely and with ease. Different trails are marked with either green, orange, or red lines to allow tourists to select their difficulty. None of the trails are truly difficult anymore, though. None, except the unmarked ones. Farley’s face twists in disdain when he sees the sign, wide and dummy-proof.
By sleepy draftsabout a year ago in Chapters
Neverchangeable | Chapter 0
I smile up at the camera. A past version of me, a ghost version, sits hunched over a laptop in a dark room and watches the grainy, bluelight images move across his screen. I picture being that other version of me right now, the one that doesn’t exist, staring blankly, hungrily at the scene. Finally, I hear him think, something different. He hasn’t realized it’s us yet – me, him – and so he laps up the image. Two slumped over figures, one barely human anymore, the other a black-and-white night vision phantom of a man, smiling at the camera. His one eye glows, a white ring of two-dimensional fire that burns into the lens. The other eye is a wet slit, open, gooey, dripping, the membrane now a soft, stretched sock drooping over the eyelid, the kind of sock Farley and I used to hit each other with, with tennis balls dropped down in to the toes, the kind you used to hate. I shudder, look sideways with my one eye at the barely human figure slumped beside me, at once the man in the night vision scene again. You would not have approved of this. Not one bit. I look back at the camera, attached to the nose of the moose Farley had killed when we were fourteen, the camera I put up after Dad died. You would have been mortified. Would have called me indecent. I would have told you, it’s called being smart. You and I both know, you would have seen through that.
By sleepy draftsabout a year ago in Chapters