Love

Octavia Girl Vol. I
Introduction Sardius was alone in the interview room as bright lights shone in his eyes and voices rang out from behind the blinding rays. No one was there. The voices from the panel of interviewers rang through a speaker system. He couldn’t see them, but there were cameras pointed at him like guns.
By Stephanie Van Orman3 days ago in Fiction
The Quiet Place Between Two Hearts. AI-Generated.
The Quiet Place Between Two Hearts Clara Whitmore had learned early in life how to be small. Not in height, but in presence.
By Abhay Kamat3 days ago in Fiction
Do You Remember?
”Do you remember?” “Remember, what?” “Do you remember how we met?” “Of course I remember when we met.” “But do you remember HOW we met?” “How? How. Well, yes.. what exactly are you goin’ on about, Vera?” “It’s been decades since I’ve thought about it” “Go on.” “Well, don’t you remember, Oscar? We were two very lost souls. So lost in the rubble we couldn’t find our own feet. “Ah, yes.” “Our hearts were shredded into the finest confetti, it’s a miracle they could even hold a beat!” “Mm, It’s coming back to me.” “Meddling on lonesome blues and cheap whiskey.” “Merely kids, we were.” “Down by that old river, some nights so misty!” “Oh, yes. That sure was a mighty beautiful river.” “and the bands would play until sunrise for all our lonesome souls to vanquish into spiritless nothingness.” “They knew we needed sleep at some point, just to wake up the next evening to do it all over again.” “A small light in the darkness.” “Hm, I am still not understanding why this faint memory has arised in you, Vera, are you okay?” “Do you remember when you looked at me? From across the dock?” “Well, yes. I saw a sad girl sitting on shore, digging her toes in the sand, curly dark locks drifting with the wind.” “Yes, and I looked up at that exact moment.” “A picturesque moment, a sight to be seen.” “That was the first time I smiled in months.” “Truly?” “Truly.” “Hm. Why is that?” “Well, I saw a handsome young man staring right back at me, with a hungered look in his eyes, a look I couldn’t quite read.” “and that made you smile?” “No one had ever looked at me like that in all my young years, if they ever even looked at me..” “You were… dauntingly beautiful, Vera. I couldn’t look away.” “I was not!” “You were! I saw a lost soul, like mine, toes so deep in the sand you couldn’t see them. An aching heart so shredded it was like fire works going off around you.” “and that made me beautiful?” “It made you real. It meant you could feel, deeply. And when you can feel, deeply - well, that’s the purest of beauty.” “and you saw all that just by looking at me?” “I felt you in my soul, and it made me feel.. not so lost anymore.” “Oh… Oscar.” “What is this all about, Vera?” “Well, to be honest, I was beginning to feel a little bit lost again.” “Oh, Vera..” “When you looked at me from that rickety ol’ dock, something in my soul ignited.” “You felt it too?” “Very much so.” “Hm, you never made a mention of that.” “Well, growing up crushed by the weight of endless trauma, you learn to hide such feelings.” “Fair.” “I just… I just needed that reminder, of what ignited my soul in the first place.” “You mean.. by giving you this look?” “Yes! Oh.. Yes, that look!” “You will always be the girl of my wildest imagination, Vera. Without you, there would only be darkness.”
By Kendra J. Anthony3 days ago in Fiction
Unanswered
“Hi honey. I'm sorry I missed your call, I was in my meeting. I guess you must also be busy at the moment, haha. I'm sorry I missed you and sorry you've missed me, I'd love to have heard your voice right now. I'm on my way. This long distance shit is killing me, I can't wait to be back home, hopefully work never sends me this far away again.
By Liam Storm4 days ago in Fiction
Born in January
It wasn’t the right time to leave a party, nor the right time to tell your hostess you weren’t feeling well and you had to leave immediately. The hostess shook her head like the defection was nothing new and went back to attending to her more worthwhile guests. Annaliese’s friend, Kimberly, offered to drive her back to the house, but Annaliese wouldn’t hear of it.
By Stephanie Van Orman4 days ago in Fiction
Cut Like Glass
“I’m sorry, Sir. She won’t get out of the car,” the driver explained hoarsely. It had been a long day with the wedding and all the guests that needed to be carted to and fro.
By Stephanie Van Orman4 days ago in Fiction
THE LORD OF THE DYNAMOS
James Holroyd was the chief attendant of the three dynamos that powered the electric railway at Camberwell. A practical electrician from Yorkshire, he was a rough, domineering man—fond of whisky, violent in temper, and proud of his knowledge. He mocked religion, believed only in machinery and profit, and treated those beneath him with cruelty.
By Faisal Khan5 days ago in Fiction
She Keeps Calling Me From the Room Where She Died
And I answer, because love never learned how to stop By Anees Ul Ameen The phone only rings at night. Never during the day. Never when other people are around. Always after midnight, when the world is quiet enough for guilt to speak clearly.
By anees5 days ago in Fiction
Unvalentined
it's become rather predictable, with all the flowers sprayed a holiday, inventional, to keep the sellers paid a day set, wholly acceptable, putting romance on parade February fourteenths sentimental, and they call it valentines day seems we're all susceptible, as subtle as a snake or razorblade bound to get us all in trouble, wearing a lovers accolade what seems harmless and elemental, leaves you needing a band-aid affections turned to rituals, handled like a hand grenade everyone is expendable, you can't escape unscathed first blood is unforgettable, until everyone is maimed so hold on to you receptacle, not everyone enjoys getting sprayed the carnage can be survivable, when love is written on a heart shaped page ***
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsden5 days ago in Fiction
The Silent Climb
In a peaceful village nestled between vast hills and serene lakes, lived a boy named Ayan. He was known for his quiet nature, yet his mind was bursting with dreams. Unlike his peers who were satisfied with routine, Ayan longed for adventure, exploration, and achievement—all synonyms of the ambitions he nurtured silently.
By meerjanan5 days ago in Fiction
The Silent Climb
In a quiet village nestled between green hills and calm lakes, there lived a boy named Ayan. He was quiet by nature, often seen sitting under the old fig tree with a faraway look in his eyes. While others played, he would sketch mountains, write in his worn notebook, and stare at the peaks beyond the horizon.
By meerjanan5 days ago in Fiction
The Lantern in the Attic
There was a house on the edge of the village that no one spoke of, not unless the wind was still and the night felt too long. It stood at the top of the hill, half-hidden by ivy and time, its windows clouded with dust, its porch sagging under the weight of years. The other children said it was cursed. They claimed they’d seen shadows where there should be none, heard laughter when the house had been empty for decades.
By meerjanan5 days ago in Fiction