Psychological

The Signal from Orion
It came at 03:14 a.m. GMT on February 4th, 2049. A pulse—structured, rhythmic, too complex to be natural. It originated near the Orion Belt, 1,300 light-years away. And it was encoded with something humanity had never encountered before: language.
By Ashley Anthony9 months ago in Fiction
Come Sunday Morning
Sunday morning and another day to say that 'I am here, and I am loved." Sundays are a day of reflection, but to be honest it's also day to catch up or to even get ahead in some other 'work' that one must feel must be done. It is a day to remember some basic rules of living this life that the creator has seen to give us to do with what we please with it, but do we always make the right decisions for ourselves and/or others that happen to be around us and to be truthful I try.
By Mark Graham9 months ago in Fiction
Memorial Day
So, another Memorial Day is upon us this month of May. It seems that we all seem to have fun on this first summer holiday. There are so many of us who plan some sort of family gathering that could mean barbecues of many kinds of picnic foods from the common hamburgers and hot dogs and potato salad and whatever seems to be of interest to share. There may be some who drink, but I hope they do wisely for this is a day to remember the fallen who gave their all to this country we love and live for.
By Mark Graham9 months ago in Fiction
Do Not Read This
You saw the instruction, and you ignored it. Why do we never believe what we are told? If we see a sign saying "Wet Paint", we have to touch it to make sure and then complain if it stains our clothes or fingers.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 9 months ago in Fiction
Shadows of the Last Light
Rhia pressed against a graffiti-stained wall as her breath echoed down the deserted alley. The last rays of a dying sun painted the crumbling skyscrapers in bruised purple shadows. Neon signs sputtered overhead, flickering across rust and overgrown vines. In her trembling hand, she clutched a glowing data crystal. For a moment she felt alone, yet holding the crystal felt like a spark of resistance against the night. With every heartbeat, the city felt alive with danger.
By Muhammad Sohail9 months ago in Fiction
The Wall of Folly
Under the vast, indifferent sky, an old lady sat by the roadside, her gnarled hands resting on a weathered cane. Her eyes, clouded with age yet sharp with intuition, were fixed on a towering wall nearby. It was an ancient structure, its bricks weather-beaten and cracked, leaning precariously as if a mere whisper could bring it down. Every time she gazed at it, a strange, insistent feeling welled up in her heart—the wall seemed as if it would collapse at any moment.
By Heydo9 months ago in Fiction
The Familiar Strangers
I made my way through the gathering crowd of people ready to watch the theatre performance I had bought tickets for months in advance. Navigating the growing crowd, I regretted not arriving sooner.
By Jasmine Aguilar9 months ago in Fiction
Raymond
Edgar lived by a strict code of live and let live, firmly believing that life would be better for everyone if they minded their own business and not others. He was never nosy and stayed to himself. Because of this, he was the friend of many and being so popular was always invited to all the major shindigs.
By Mother Combs9 months ago in Fiction
The Portrait in the Attic
The old mansion on Elm Street had always been a place of whispered legends. Dust hung in the air like forgotten memories, and the attic was said to hold secrets no one dared uncover.
By Get Rich9 months ago in Fiction
The Meeting
The city was slick with rain — the kind that clings to your coat and blurs the edges of the night. Neon signs bled their colours into puddles, flickering like restless ghosts on wet asphalt. The smell of damp concrete mixed with exhaust fumes, hanging heavy in the air like a warning. I kept my eyes on the road, but my mind tuned into the quiet tension resting heavy in the backseat.
By Bentley Brown9 months ago in Fiction
The Unbearable Mercy of Physics. Content Warning.
08:43 A.M. The city behind her is concrete rot—towers like molars in a dying god’s jaw. She hasn’t blinked in four minutes.
By Iris Obscura9 months ago in Fiction
She was the strongest person I knew until I met her
There was a time when just her name made my chest feel heavy. Not from sorrow. Not even from remorse. It was the weight of admiration, the kind that comes from watching someone burn and still carry light for everyone else.
By Timeless Truths9 months ago in Fiction