Mystery

The Messenger
It’s the wet season; an imperial messenger sails down the Chobe River with a parcel wrapped in tawny papyrus. The messenger scans the horizon with a blended sense of wonder and disappointment. As widely as the land stretches on either side, with its golden reeds and flowery hills, he is contained by the swollen banks of the somnolent river. Without the slightest effort, it seems, the river carries him on to his destination, to deliver his parcel to its destined recipient.
By Willa Chernov4 years ago in Fiction
Just in Time
Sol’s watch and clock repair shop occupied 317 S. Fifth street for 42 years. The crumbling brick façade and neighborhood had changed dramatically over those decades. Except for his appearance, Solomon Hadelman, not so much. His hair, once a thick forest of dark curls, had first gone snowy white. Then, it unceremoniously departed. Wrinkles that started as faint lines had deepened, carving crevices in his face. Inwardly the same, Sol’s exterior was a living testament of time’s refusal to wait for anything.
By Brian Champion4 years ago in Fiction
Family Curse
Family Curse. By Rick Wasserman "I miss the ocean," he said one day out of the blue, and I sighed inwardly in resignation. The days when he spoke were seldom good ones.
By Rick Wasserman4 years ago in Fiction
Don’t Wanna See Brown
It started with a rainy, Friday night, in New York City, and the clubs were jam packed with people. It was the weekend, and every street was thumping with some sort of tune.
By Abigail Sehen4 years ago in Fiction
Don't Open the Package
Brad glanced at the buildings as he rounded the corner of the alley. He caught the sign to the left -- “Deliveries Only”. He quietly inched towards the door, as he didn't want to draw attention. He was holding a small brown package in his hands, the obsession of his thoughts for the past 24 hours. He didn’t know what was in it and didn't even care at this point. He just wanted it gone.
By Suzane Andre4 years ago in Fiction
Nightmare into Fantasy- Part 3
“Ugh… what the fuck happened?” Parker’s head was pounding. It felt like his brain had grown three times its size and was trying to free itself from the prison that was Parker’s skull. He pressed his hand to his forehead in an effort to quell the pain. Where was he? It was dark when he opened his eyes. At least he could be thankful for that. Moonlight streamed through the windows in the living room, illuminating different parts of the room as the moon traversed the sky.
By JJ Sandler4 years ago in Fiction
I Finally Found It
It’s an odd sensation to have the memory of childhood, feeling as though the whole world is in front of you, while simultaneously struggling with the inability to ever actually experience that feeling again. One day you’re dreaming about everything you could be, then suddenly you’re in your twenties wondering how you got here and what the hell you’re going to do next with your life. It seems like friends and colleagues alike are just going through the motions and nobody seems to really be feeling anything anymore. We wake up, go to work, come home, go to sleep, repeat. Some of us have days off, others are pulling double shifts just to survive. We’re all stuck in this mundane routine but nobody seems to be asking “why” or challenging the way of things. Except for me.
By Anjalique Jessup4 years ago in Fiction
008
Sutton Hetti had always been quite the peculiar girl, but it was not until the great flood of 008 that the fact became a little too hard to ignore. Both her parents died in the flood in the effort to save her life. Even the very essence of her had changed since then. Her eyes were empty and void of life, her cheeks had turned too hollow, her voice was always hoarse, and she stumbled around from day to day like a zombie—without cause and without thought.
By A. Elise4 years ago in Fiction
Blurred Variables
Dear Albert, I hope this letter finds you in good health in America, and that your research in the realm of quantum theory progresses smoothly. I fear the same cannot be said of my own mental well-being. I have done something unforgivable. Or may not have done. I am of two minds about this. Let me explain.
By Josh Matic4 years ago in Fiction
Dead Letter Office
“How much to send this?” he asked in a polite but pretty nondescript tone while placing the small package on the counter top.
By R.S. MacKeigan4 years ago in Fiction
Triple Chocolate Cake
I was expecting the care package from my grandmother to come any day now, so I wasn't surprised to see one sitting by my mailbox. What surprised me was how it looked, wrapped in dirty brown paper that looked like it might have been part of a grocery bag at one time. My father's mother had more money than she knew what to do with. There was no way the package could possibly come from her. Mimi, as she preferred to be called, would probably have a heart attack if she even saw this.
By Elizabeth Owen4 years ago in Fiction
Special Delivery
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. 6:00 AM I groggily slap my hand around till I find my phone and turn the stupid alarm off. It feels too early. I open my eyes to see what time it is. 6 AM! What idiot sets an alarm for 6 AM on a Saturday?! OH, that’s right, me. I’m that idiot because today is the day. The day I finally get my shit together. And because I was the idiot that set the alarms, I can either get up now, or turn off alarms at five-minute increments for the next hour.
By Farah Thompson4 years ago in Fiction