Excerpt
Avoided Spaces
The reasons you choose to shy away and seal those doors, my dear, only need make sense to you For only you can open the door and welcome the healing. Only you know when to cleanse the heartache and repair the wounds But, be careful not to let those things fester too long, there’s a monster lurking inside of that room. And he wants to press harder, that thorn in your side, so it will slow you down and seal your doom. Stirring dissension and keeping you chained from the freedoms that forgiveness offers, keeping you trapped, all alone and wounded, inside that room ***
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsden2 months ago in Fiction
The Sand Clock That Stopped On Thursday. AI-Generated.
"First, let's agree on one rule: there is no time. What you are reading now might have happened yesterday, or will happen tomorrow, or perhaps it is happening the moment you close your eyes. The story does not follow a straight path; rather, it breathes and twists like blue smoke."
By elhacene benmami2 months ago in Fiction
Moon’s Gift to the Blind Girl
Elara’s world was not dark. People called her blind, but that was their word, born from their own fear of the absence of light. Her world was built of sound and scent and texture. The rough bark of the old oak was a story of strength. The scent of rain on dry earth was a complex symphony. But the one thing that remained an abstract concept was the Moon.
By Habibullah3 months ago in Fiction
The Moon That Chased the Sun
For eons, their dance was the clockwork of the universe. The Sun was a king of fierce, glorious light, painting the world in bold strokes of gold and blue. The Moon was his quiet queen, softening his harsh edges with her gentle silver, weaving dreams into the night. But they were never together. The cosmos, in its infinite wisdom, had decreed they must forever be apart, their love a constant, heartbreaking near-miss.
By Habibullah3 months ago in Fiction
The Sound of Rain That Never Falls. AI-Generated.
No one in Hollowbridge could remember the last time it had rained. The clouds gathered every evening, dark and heavy, but no drop ever touched the ground. People called it The Dry Storm, a strange curse that made thunder echo but never bless the soil.
By shakir hamid3 months ago in Fiction
Artificial
I look at the girl lying against the steel table. She seems so peaceful, her face almost angelic in the way it lacks blemishes or wrinkles. Blonde hair clings to her face and falls in waves down onto the slab beneath her. They removed her from her growth canister and brought her into a sort of observation room. It feels like a morgue the more that I look around. The incubation holds are set into the walls at even intervals. To think that only moments ago, she had lid in there soaking in a hyper growth solution that… I do not remember what they told me it was. As if it really mattered to me anyway.
By Gunnar Anderson3 months ago in Fiction
Snakes on a Pole
2004: We split. You take our knowledge, I take our desire. The brain and heart metaphor is somewhat apt. Other parts remain neutral or retain sovereignty, and reluctantly aid us both. The separation seeming both involuntary and undesirable (particularly on my end), our spirits long for unfractionation, and tug on each other.
By A. S. Lawrence3 months ago in Fiction
Across The Merderet. Runner-Up in Parallel Lives Challenge.
I sped off to the recruiting post in Galena. Even though my birth certificate at St. Michaels said that Joseph F. Higgins was Born 1927 not 1926 like I told the recruiter, I wasn’t going to let that one year stop me. Hell or high water I was going to be a paratrooper.
By Matthew J. Fromm3 months ago in Fiction
