Psychological
The Window
She was the single window in the old blue-almost-green house, already a little washed out by time in that monotonous village, where everything seemed to be slowly losing its colour. So she was surprised that her windowsill didn’t get a bit more attention from the people inside the house.
By Erika Lorenna7 months ago in Fiction
The Girl Who Could Burn Memories. AI-Generated.
The First Burn I was thirteen when I first learned I could burn memories. Not metaphorically literally. My grandmother had just passed away, and I was holding one of her old scarves when the scent lavender and rosewater hit me like a wave. I closed my eyes, thinking of her hands, her voice, her laughter. A memory. Warm and vivid.
By Arif Aadee7 months ago in Fiction
Beneath the Perfect View
It was the kind of view travel bloggers spend hours editing filters to replicate. From the wide glass windows of Cabin 17, the world looked painted. Mountains with powdered snow fringes rose like sleeping gods in the distance. Pine trees flanked the valley below, their spires dusted with white. A frozen lake lay perfectly still, reflecting the twilight like silver glass. The air was crisp, fresh, the sky blooming into shades of rose and indigo.
By Unaishah Mostafa 7 months ago in Fiction
The Summer Below
The summer was supposed to be perfect. Jayla had made a list: get her lifeguard recertification, work mornings at the pool, spend nights at the lake with Theo, and maybe—finally—tell him she liked him as more than a friend. They’d joked about it during senior week. He’d touched her hand and hadn’t let go.
By Shai Anderson7 months ago in Fiction
A Night at the Children's Library
There is another library that I work the night shift. It is at the local children's library. At this library the night shift librarian has a few other big/little chores to do other than reshelving books. That is still the first chore that I do though reshelve the regular books before moving on to rewinding some movie and cartoon tapes for there are some old VHS cassettes and also making sure the DVDs are in the correct holders. The next chore is to pick up any toys that seem to be laying around in the stacks that the kids or their parents forget to put back and to wipe and satanize the other toys like the blocks, etc.
By Mark Graham7 months ago in Fiction
The Day the Rain Stopped Forever
The Day the Rain Stopped Forever For as long as anyone could remember, it had always rained. It wasn’t the kind of rain that raged with thunder or flooded the streets. It was soft and steady—more like a mist that never ended. Umbrellas were as common as shoes. People didn’t even comment on the rain anymore. It was simply the way the world worked. Gray skies. Damp clothes. The smell of wet earth everywhere.
By Fazal Hadi7 months ago in Fiction
Summer's Rain 🌧️. Top Story - July 2025.
Ziv was eight years old. He had always loved the rain. When the Summer sun heated his skin to melting and the sky turned a darker shade...he would escape when Momma was not looking and go jump in the puddles, his clothes drenched in the downpour.
By Novel Allen7 months ago in Fiction
