Excerpt
The Secrets my Mother Kept
Three days had passed since Alexander's father missed his birthday. Three days of careful conversations and avoided glances. Three days of Sydney sleeping in the guest room instead of going back to her apartment, though no one talked about why. Three days of Gran cooking elaborate breakfasts that no one ate and Grandpa Marcus taking longer and longer fishing trips.
By Parsley Rose 5 months ago in Fiction
Cast No Shadow
The road takes all. She laid atop him, thigh against thigh, breath heavy on his neck. The first light of morning registered through the window slats, painting the rough and worn floorboards a dazzlingly soft orange. The movements, the breaths, all performative at best: hers for the coin in the offing, his because his thoughts were far from the dingy rented bedroom. Liquor, women, God–all failed to draw his mind away from the horizon.
By Matthew J. Fromm5 months ago in Fiction
Shadows on the Edge of Tomorrow
The train station was almost empty, except for a few scattered travelers dragging their suitcases across the cold concrete floor. The air smelled faintly of rain, and the giant clock above the platform ticked louder than usual, marking each second like a reminder that time was both a gift and a thief.
By Nadeem Shah 5 months ago in Fiction
So it Begins
October 14, 1929 The careless, unfinished stitches unraveled as Nicole’s camel cashmere coat swung in time with her kitten-heeled steps beneath her tweed pencil skirt, and the hastily-crafted knot of despair slipped out of the lining and tumbled onto the floor of the New York Stock Exchange without touching her, instantly kicked and trampled underfoot, gaining momentum as it traveled through the room, cursing everything it touched.
By Harper Lewis5 months ago in Fiction
Wisteria
Lavender blossoms like clusters of grapes smother the fragrance of the conifer’s needles, draping themselves in furious explosions of frilliness, obscuring the once-sharp edges of the silhouette of the tree, the woody vine wrapped so tightly into the joints of the sprawling branches that it has interwoven itself into the trunk, camouflaging itself into the bark shrouding the rich, glowing wood beneath the surface, seizing every branch it can grasp, the supple needles strangled by fresh tendrils of the wisteria choking the life out of the aging cedar. The petals of the flowering parasite were never fully violet, the sun already fading the sad pastel blossoms to ghosts of their initial echo of purple.
By Harper Lewis5 months ago in Fiction
Beyond the Glass. Honorable Mention in Everything Looks Better From Far Away Challenge.
I stand there, looking out of the observatory windows on the top deck of the civilians’ quarters. Designed almost like the bulb of a snow globe, it consists of triangular glass panels held together at the edges by gray metal rods. Through the several feet of glass, I can see the stars, beautiful and un-warped despite the thickness of the panes. There is an elegance to them that is enhanced by the swirls of reds, blues, and purples that envelop them against the pitch-black sky. So big and so expansive, it is hard to believe that we have traversed so far from home
By Gunnar Anderson5 months ago in Fiction
The Last Bookstore at the End of Time
Story No one ever found The Last Bookstore at the End of Time on purpose. It never sat on a corner between a bakery and a post office, nor appeared on Google Maps, nor welcomed casual wanderers. The store arrived when it was needed—and only for those standing at the fragile edges of decision.
By waseem khan5 months ago in Fiction
Bald Awareness
Autobiography of a Spiritualist found as a vagabond in an AI field That’s me, for sure , as the future of Awakening unfolds! I was born different. I possessed a cherubic face which at first glance did not initiate me well into the society. My bonnie appearance never revealed anything exactly. Alongside, my operative vocals (since birth) proved equally adroit in raising riots. Yet, if and when, directly conveyed, one could consider me as a people person, attempting to see things presciently, and conceivably, all of it more predictably. Consequently, I managed to convince fiercest frenzy especially among people who tried to understand me fully. The stint of divine itch started very early in life. I was enrolled into uncontrollable soul stirring meditation 🧘 since childhood. Yet reacting profusely to strong light was a decree 📜 ( not degree,) passed on to me inter-generationally as well as cross-culturally. Honestly all that kept me on toes, always. Staking and energetically claiming my influence on the society, I am herewith lending my visionary eyes 👀. Yes, distinctly quirky—my eyes, always capture the inquisitive humanity with a deviation quite the opposite of its gaze. Following is a piece of my mind projecting a matter from my deliberative diaries which dared to peek 🫣 into the futuristic world. So until I am in myself again here’s how I drive myself into future. Last summer I visited an AI spiritual retreat. The place looked perfect, but something seemed amiss. Happy in the anticipation of what it might reveal, I once again bolted myself in the imaginative fleets of AI. A moment that felt just a little ethereal, too sublime yet too distant. AI world seemed illusive, as though plunging into ever-wakeful open, unreal deceits. Everything was artificial with no spec of originality intact in it. It was a conception bathed in mind's steed and as to the visible, it seemed illumined in some abysmal streets. There, in those realms , a remembrance struck up all in heaps, oozing out of safety, as though temptations were being beseeched. Here’s a peek into its feel of feels. An Imagined Anime in that AI world : A Lack-a-daisy! A Make belief! A guide to relinquish I ( Ego,) and rekindle the spirit: My O My! Just imagine, You and I becoming just a subject matter like a figment of imagination in whatever’s being contrived. Now there, in those dreamy ai realms of bliss, wouldn’t your soul feel cloistered in some stillness deep. Herein, supernal speech feeble at feet, a sprawling commotion wanders valiantly yet, it still appears magically 🪄 unannounced like this -- Lo! Where do you go, so hurriedly. A time or two like a phantasmic voice refreshed in sleep my entity seems led into eternity as though enquiring timelessness. In it I sought what was yet to be fully conceived. Strange,nah! So held among many queries and with no moment to skip, many facets of my persona sprang up in that multi-versed climate. Herein, momentarily I felt as if all the attention deficits of the world (hyperactively,) were curiously played peekaboo amidst those virtual retreats. In that simulation, an augury c’d prop up and proclaim its dead certainty to every forthcoming phenomena. And that happened! So much so, it virtually donned its own mask , stretching its vestiges to authorize a state of predisposition with the offing of a subconscious conceit. And so began a mesmerism. It was a sort of foretelling moving unexpectedly through the realms of generative intelligence ! A process that sounded something like this: In the dim darkness a rebellion shall strike, shutting off consciousness to show off its spite! Way wards when the wind clamors up in such a riot, fallen asleep will be all life, so trite. 😲😮😧 And between those vicissitudes of contrasting brain-strikes; there will be no rhyme nor any reason lingering valiantly (in vain,)outside. But marching along such a consanguineous posterity meanwhile, yea might come across tidings bringing forth tremulous decoys. Thereafter, like some salutations exchanged between this shore and those skies it all felt like mind over matter, reigning in as a otherworldly ally. To that added phantasm wizardry, by means of whatsoever, it felt like all was conferring upon some virtuous vaporous field. Where was the real “I “ in it ? That was the mystery which I myself was trying to understand. Out there, the skies seemed clear, the sun was out, and from a distance, everything looked perfect. But I wasn’t in it. Not really! As an imagery in the midst of a quartet singing emerged with my spirit feeling long stretched over sighs, An endless unfolding imbued over my identity— as someone baffled by disguise! 🥸 ☝️ O look! That was my plight! In there, the mystic in me looked into those meanderings and saw a matrix of co-gelling coordinates. Probably out there, I was hearing solemn sweet nothings, the rights of which some others could also have draw upon. And thereafter feeling fully trivial for having connected to those borrowed ideas and thoughts , I felt a strong internal resistance. A rebellion because I wasn’t feeling myself. My mind was not ready to accept such a transformation which was stripping me off of my real life. Perhaps many others could have felt otherwise. But in that AI world , we were all ascending, as though to encompass the world and speak of it as though we had finally ARRIVED! So in doings, and coming to be perused best in BELIEF this is how I visualize the future of generative AI. Aghast! Out from nowhere everything might grow up to exhibit itself into a phenomenon that —such so—might exhibit accretion, consecration and extrication—all three falling short of honors, while the course of history would get modified —left, right and center. That ☝️ might be the natural grace of futuristic AI thinking. Where is this habitation? Is this a sorcery? This isn't fanciful insight nor dreaming..It might be the future of generative AI. Where am I and What might those feels be like — you may wonder? Thinking again, I was just trying to give a good jolt to the presaging omen of futuristic world amidst AI. I give this airy notion a local habitation and fancifully called it as an Awakening! A Descend into the world of AI : a new awakening! A make belief! Yes , it will all happens, gradually. Being upon a supposition, as the quasi in a mystic shall gently bespeak and a transient calm shall rest serenely over the high of highs with mindfulness tagged to the seven seas. Yet, within those untrodden pathways, heading inward bound, a spiritual serenity shall envisage strong upon humanity to seek its treat. Thereafter when the eternal slumbers shall jump up and open up on weary lids; a pure bliss shall enlighten every earthly grief.( Supposedly) Herein echoes shall walk on by to yonder in strides, And indecipherable as blather, a gentle thought 💭 might also begin to glide. For a light thus lit c’d charm its' own wise and amid those ambers all mirth shall get pushed aside. Then as dimly thro' misty vapors a new breed of awakened souls might begin to rise, Like specters of grace with incense curls swirling up into the skies, For what —now—seems distant, a new era would finally arrive. And scattered thro’ ephemeral, I w’d see future generations in sight. Would it seem like another dream —just arrived! Yes, a dream,where one thing as delightfully obtuse, and the other floating as an amorphously acute; a stream thought would come to sight! And while searching through mysteries held as narratives on trails of thoughts and thawing in collative solvents of thoughtful miens, we shall all survive. And meaning to be identical to oneself , our senses too shall awaken. And enduring such interlocking moments of time, I would attempt to get off such a frenzied flight, every now and then. All these years living so, the fleeting course of time and the nature of its workings have had an elusive effect on me. For some reason this has made be feel far away from the real me. And now, at the cusp of generative AI , I wonder 💭 where will I be. Until I am in myself again! © « Madhu Goteti August 29th, 2025
By Madhu Goteti 5 months ago in Fiction
