Psychological
The Hidden Heartbeat
A cool draft slithers its way down Damien's spine though sweat runs between his aching shoulder blades. He shifts uncomfortably as he crouches below an air vent. Why must the damn air conditioning be on full blast at the end of September, especially when the place is empty?
By Alyssa Musso10 months ago in Fiction
Hollow and dead
I first noticed her because of her hair — sunset red and wild, like a flame that forgot it was ever meant to burn out. She sat on the edge of the fountain in the square, feeding crumbs to birds with chipped fingernails. But I could see her eyes. Sad, hollow, dead, like someone crying in dreams she never remembered.
By F.R. Gautvik10 months ago in Fiction
Hourglass
He didn’t know whether to stay in or go out. Outside did not look good, it was like a dark rain, but he couldn’t be bothered to go to the window. He had a cup of tea and the television was on, full of infotainment and infoverts, which was enough to keep his braid occupied.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 10 months ago in Fiction
