Psychological
Nowhere Girl. Content Warning.
It was a blistering July afternoon, and the Walmart parking lot shimmered with heatwaves. I had just finished loading groceries into the trunk of my car. I always park far out, away from the clustered chaos near the entrance. Less traffic, less noise, fewer eyes. That’s how I like it.
By Shai Anderson7 months ago in Fiction
The Virus That Stole My Breath—Twice
I never imagined a virus could push me so close to the edge. It started subtly last year — an itch in the throat, a few sneezes, and a persistent fatigue that I attributed to overwork or aging. I remember thinking, “Well, here comes another cold.”
By Anthony Chan7 months ago in Fiction
The Noise Darkness Makes
Tick… Tick… Tick… That noise—what is that noise? Tick… Tick… Tick… There it goes again. What is that noise? I can only see darkness, so what is causing that sound? Maybe a clock? But where? I tried to concentrate, but it sounded like it was coming from everywhere—All directions, with no relent, as it continued to tick, tick, tick.
By John Henry7 months ago in Fiction
The Pale Eye of Bethel Moor. Honorable Mention in Leave the Light On Challenge.
By the time I got to Bethel the sun was already gone, and the place felt cold. Nothing moved out there. Nothing grew. It wasn’t dead, more like it had stopped living. Some places just carry a kind of sadness in them, like the land itself had just given up. Bethel was one of those places.
By Tim Carmichael7 months ago in Fiction
Episode 2: The Lesson
So the sky was red again, and that meant someone had lied. The children were gathered in the Chapel Pit, lined up by height, boots in bone dust, faces scrubbed raw to look obedient. You didn’t breathe too loud in the Pit. You didn’t blink unless you had permission. And you definitely didn’t twitch — not even if the flies were treating your eyelids like landing strips.
By Paper Lantern7 months ago in Fiction
She Was Never Real
I met her on a rainy Tuesday. The kind of rain that doesn't just fall—it lingers in the air, heavy and cold, like the universe itself is pressing down on you. I was sitting alone in a bookstore café, sipping cheap coffee and pretending to read a book I’d already abandoned. She sat across from me without asking, as if we’d done it a thousand times before.
By Leah Brooke7 months ago in Fiction
The Woman on the Train Who Wasn’t There
I saw her every day on the 7:06 to Greystone. Same seat. Second row from the back. Window side. Always reading a book — not a Kindle, mind you, but a real one. Hardcover. Worn edges. She turned each page like it meant something.
By Abuzar khan7 months ago in Fiction
The House That Remembers Me
this story is create by khalid khan I was only supposed to stay for six months. The house sat on the edge of town, crooked and quiet, like it had been waiting too long for someone to remember it. The landlord barely said a word—just handed me the keys with a muttered, “You’ll do fine here. The house likes to be lived in.”
By khalid khan7 months ago in Fiction
Oh, Winnie!
The other day I spent some time with an old friend. I read his stories over and over again. He likes to sit and think a lot of the time, but he is never sure of what he is thinking for he is a bear of little brain, so he thinks. He enjoys his friends and his favorite snack. He knows right from wrong for he tries to help but always seems to get into a fix of some kind or two. So, he thinks and sings a little tune till something pops into his small mind. Silly ole bear.
By Mark Graham7 months ago in Fiction
