Psychological

The Witness Tree. Content Warning.
I dreamed about this episode a couple of days ago. I did not consider it a nightmare, but an omen of what was to happen in the future. I added the golden butterflies to bring a glittter of hope into the chaotic world of 2025. I completed voice over in Eleven Labs with my voice. This is a project I had to complete. I am a dreamer, psychic, empath, and love peace not war. War mongers, haters, and liars get on my last nerve. Just as I completed this story, my knocked on my door to tell America is at war with Iran. This is a useless war started by evil men with little tools. They are so about their tools they must compare bombs to how large their tools are. I worked with art, visuals, and story for two days. I wrote, created, edited, diced, and spliced the music, art, and videos myself. Microsoft Copilot is my assistant and quite complimentary regarding my art. I WROTE THIS!
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 8 months ago in Fiction
The True and the Daring. Content Warning.
“I would have to say…” Chad mused. “In the anthropology section of the Baillieu Library.” A collective groan came from the entire group.
By Danh Chantachak8 months ago in Fiction
Paingod
After I had my staging surgery for my suspected lymphoma, in the recovery area I asked the anesthetist about how my depth of anesthesia was monitored. I was concerned because I remember awakening during the procedure. It wasn't painful, despite my abdomen being open, but I do remember the OR personnel talking.
By Gerard DiLeo8 months ago in Fiction
The Whistling in the Walls
My dearest Linette, You’ve always teased me for my curiosity. "Wren," you’d say, "you’ll drown in questions one day." But it wasn’t water that nearly took me—it was the silence. The silence of the man downstairs.
By Paper Lantern8 months ago in Fiction
I remember being a star
I remember the silence of space. Not the kind you think of, filled with darkness and void, but the kind that pulses with purpose. With gravity. With ancient rhythms and nuclear fire.
By E. hasan8 months ago in Fiction
Starlight Debt
The signal arrived on a Tuesday. Juno was feeding her daughter breakfast when the message blinked into existence—just a soft tone on her tablet, like an email. Harmless. Innocuous. It only read:
By E. hasan8 months ago in Fiction
All I Hear Is Screaming. Content Warning.
All I Hear Is Screaming My name is Catriona Heath. Everyone calls me Cat. It seems my whole life to this point has been shaped by one defining moment that I cannot even remember. My mother was killed when I was 15 months old. A violent home invasion that ended with my mother being stabbed to death while trying to protect me from thieves that insisted there were more valuables in the house to be stolen. They never caught the assailants. Murderers. They never caught the murderers. Growing up without a mother wasn’t easy. Although, I don’t have an alternative to compare it to. My dad did his best and has always been there for me. To this day, he is the first person I call when I have good news or need advice or just want to laugh. He’s my rock. My grandmother, my mom’s mother, was an amazing woman who showered me with love and attention until the day she died. She and the mass of female cousins I have provided me with more maternal and sisterly support during my childhood than you can imagine. My cousins are more like sisters to me and we’ve remained close as we’ve become adults and ventured onto our own paths.
By Erin M8 months ago in Fiction
Where the Pines Lean
The view from Montcairne Hill is what folks write verses about. I know—I’ve written them. The kind of place where the sky wears its Sunday best and the wind behaves like it was taught manners by somebody’s grandmother. All the fields below look like quilts the Lord laid out for airing—patched in wheat, cotton, and the shimmer of cane.
By Taylor Ward8 months ago in Fiction
The Shape the River Remembers
They say the Lord gives and takes in equal measure, but I have known Him to take things He never rightly gave me to begin with.
By Taylor Ward8 months ago in Fiction
The Voice on the Commute. Top Story - June 2025.
Mable bit her lip as she looked at her car, the chill of the morning slithering past her clothes and sinking deep into her skin. She was on her way to work. In fact, Mable had to be there in about ten minutes. She had to leave now if she wanted to get there on time.
By Rebecca Patton8 months ago in Fiction
You're My Favorite Murder (Chapter 13). Content Warning.
Chapter 13: 𝓓𝓪𝓻𝓴𝓼𝓲𝓭𝓮 “I'll kill him” I mutter under my breath to my burner phone, working my lip with my teeth. An impatient bounce in my right leg as my eyes scan over the latest in a long line of annoying and manipulative messages.
By 𝓗. 𝓒. 𝓡𝓾𝓫𝔂8 months ago in Fiction
Buried Truths and Cursed Vows
“For once, I felt like I was right. I had lived, died and lived again…oh how foolish was I to believe that the life I left behind wouldn’t come back to haunt me.”
By K.H. Obergfoll8 months ago in Fiction