Excerpt
Manster or Mon? Part Two
A high horse have we sat for quite some time now. We've built our own mountains. Never believing we would fall off. Sometimes we got up. The other times we did not get up. No matter our status in life, we are the kings of our own minds. We have always thought kingly of ourselves. Existing in ever-shifting roles of importance and nonsensical ramblings. One day we are kings. The next we sit with monstrous intent. Truths slow-dripping down our sides. Through our minds. My resolve is forever unwavering. Like the mighty oak, I stand tall. The wind has to go around me, it will move only for the Gods.
By FRANK? Piccolella3 years ago in Fiction
Manster or Mon? Part 1
Manster or Mon? It doesn't just sound funny. It's about the towing of the line between being a man and a monster. We usually try to avoid monstrous thoughts and feelings. Having a severe mental illness diagnosis has me teetering on becoming a monstrosity. Schizo-affective disorder leaves one feeling as if they alternate from one personality to another. Reality seems to be ever-changing. Thoughts and feelings shift at the very whim of a haunted man. Often feeling like Dr. Jekkyl and Mr. Hyde. In this case, Hyde is being quite cheeky. So, I play along. Man to the monster is often no small feat. Though it rarely happens overnight. The other times we don't just break a sweat to swim our way out of regret. Trying to make that a saying. It's a thing!
By FRANK? Piccolella3 years ago in Fiction
Sorrows Remedy
I was staring out the window into my neighbor’s yard, admiring her beauty. Some might find this creepy or weird, but they didn’t understand. I have autism, and was uncomfortable socializing with new people. Most times when I tried, people would laugh and make fun of me, or find an excuse to walk away from me.
By Alex H Mittelman 3 years ago in Fiction
The Miracle Box
Today, like every day for the past year, Judy Trudeau had gone to visit her ten year old son, Timmy, in the hospital. He was in a coma, and she had been visiting almost every day to talk to him. She prayed and begged for him to wake up. He was hit with a baseball while at a game with his father, and even though she knew she shouldn’t blame John, she did. She grabbed Timmy’s hand and started talking.
By Alex H Mittelman 3 years ago in Fiction
Come See the Monstrosity!
There was a new attraction at the city's Aquarium, and the crowds were lining up for it. "Superhero Volt captures a Squid Villain terrorizing town! See the monstrosity here!" the sign declared. Even before entering, visitors shared their excitement with one other. Some remembered seeing this story on the daily news, or hearing about it from first-hand, second-hand or third-hand witnesses.
By Ellen Stedfeld3 years ago in Fiction
On Display
Knock knock knock... (Louder) Knock knock knock... "Fishy can you hear me?" I tried to ignore the incessant noise from that thing on the other side of the glass. The ugly mermaid with no fins can't even swim properly and he wants to know if I can hear him?
By Jennifer David3 years ago in Fiction
Resident Jellyfish
I am a glorified doormat. In fact, I always have been. Never once in my life was I anything but that. From day one, it was my destiny as the eldest child to do the bidding of my family and support my siblings as well as my parents when they needed it.
By A.R. Zeller3 years ago in Fiction
Tales of Bette: Blast From The Past
December 2024 The notification went off on Bette's phone and the she pulled up the pop up from her doorbell security ap. She had it programmed to not go off for squirrels or anything smaller, she knew the neighbors weren't home, and it couldn't capture the cars in the street. She didn't even hear any footsteps on the porch - because there weren't any. She rushed to the door, opened it, and could see the delivery drone taking off. It was unusual to say the least. On the doormat was the package, so small it was nearly an envelope. The shipping label addressed to her had wrapped all around the package, so much so that it covered up the sender's information. She hadn't ordered anything recently, it wasn't her birthday that month, nor was it her wedding anniversary with Mark. It was a literal gift from the sky and there was no way of telling from who. She brought the package inside, stared at it for a bit before deciding to open it. She pulled out the small card first, opened it; the message seemed irrelevant at first. It was the name at the bottom that caught her attention. She took a deep breath as the warm feeling crested through her body, she was transported to the memories tied to the name, and suddenly, she was 27 again.
By Tinka Boudit She/Her3 years ago in Fiction
