Psychological
A Heartbroken Artist's Journey to Rediscover Lost Hope
Segment 1: The Maimed Artisan There kept on a gifted expert named Lily in a particular town between moving slopes and pratting rivers. Her magnum opuses were addressed all over for their lively tones and proximity to one's home, top to bottom, that caught the style of the world with each line. Yet, beyond it, Lily had said a weight—her heart was broken by a warmth that took off, leaving her inclination loose and be. Her once precious stone world appeared to obscure, as though her life had broken down its tones.
By Tridib Borahabout a year ago in Fiction
Chapter 1: Whispers at Twilight
Note: This is a completely new genre for me and I wanted to write in a way that makes people contemplate their own life. I hope this shows in the first chapter, however, please comment with any advice as I did enjoy writing like this and I would like to fully refine the first book draft.
By Daniel Millingtonabout a year ago in Fiction
UnReality Podcast Premieres
I first heard of U.K. podcaster Talia Augustidis in October 2023 when I heard an episode of Lights Out on BBC4. In her episode -- called Dead Ends -- Talia manipulates sound with tape hiss, plaintive voices from the past, and the mystery of her mother's tragic death from a fall from a cliff while on a business trip in Majorca.
By Frank Racioppiabout a year ago in Fiction
The Departed: A Cinematic Symphony of Deception, Loyalty, and Tragedy
The Art of Deception "The Departed" is a masterclass in the art of deception, a theme that reverberates through every corner of its narrative. Directed by the legendary Martin Scorsese, the film immerses its audience in a world where truth is elusive, and trust is a precious commodity. Set in the gritty backdrop of Boston, the story revolves around two moles operating on opposite sides of the law—Billy Costigan (Leonardo DiCaprio), an undercover cop in a criminal syndicate, and Colin Sullivan (Matt Damon), a criminal mole within the police department.
By Willow Writerabout a year ago in Fiction
In Stasis
At the edge of this so-called transition, I am terrified. They say the future lies in the virtual world, where lives are unburdened by hunger, waste, or breath. Clean, efficient, eternal. But when I look ahead, all I see is a void. My friends tell me Doctor has the answers I need—answers to the questions that claw at my mind late at night. But what do they know? My friends are nothing but shadows on a screen, gone the moment I log off. Where do they go? And when someone turns off my computer, where will I go?
By Melis Olcumabout a year ago in Fiction
A Chase to Remember (Marked by Love). Content Warning.
Nayah, that night, felt something unusual. A feeling so deep and indescribable. A feeling that every time she thought about it, she felt more and more shivers beneath her existence. It made her feel the pain, loss, and sacrifices made for love. With Eli, she was sensing and experiencing something she had never felt before. This was such a beautiful emotion that she couldn’t afford to lose; no, Nayah had to learn more about him. What was that shiver that, with his hidden sorrow, made her cold heart beat? That heart hadn’t felt a single beat in centuries, and now it stirred from its long, lethargic sleep.
By Ina Zeneliabout a year ago in Fiction
Howls under the Moonlight
The Moon's Reflection Sarah adjusted her rearview mirror, watching the city lights blur into streaks of gold and crimson behind her. The traffic had lightened up a lot, a sharp contrast to the usual weekday chaos that she maneuvered through with practiced ease. But tonight? It felt different. There was a weight on her chest, a subtle unease that her luxury sedan's hum just couldn't shake off. Tonight marked the full moon, her monthly routine of visiting her mother’s grave . For the last five years, like clockwork, Sarah had made this trip to the old cemetery on the outskirts of town each month. As she got closer to the cemetery, the feeling of being watched intensified. It prickled at her skin, making the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She glanced in her mirrors, catching the glint of headlights far behind her. Just other cars, she reassured herself, but the unease lingered. Turning onto the lonely road leading to the cemetery gates, she spotted him. A figure hunched beneath the bare branches of an old oak, cloaked in shadows. He was tall, his form obscured by dark, shapeless clothing and a deep hood that hid his face. Sarah's breath caught in her throat. He was just standing there, immobile, watching her. Sarah stood at the edge of the cemetery which seemed to be abandoned except for the feeling of countless unseen eyes watching her. Her breath visible in the cold night air. The full moon hung low, casting a silver glow over the rows of headstones. She adjusted her coat, her fingers trembling slightly. She knelt by the grave, her hand brushing the cold stone. “I miss you,” she whispered. Her voice cracked. A low, mournful howl sliced through the silence. Then another, wilder this time. Sarah shivered, not from the cold, but from a strange anticipation, a dark thrill bubbling up inside her. Suddenly, with a metallic clang that echoed through the quiet graveyard, the iron gate of the cemetery was flung wide. The figure in the shadows emerged from behind a mausoleum. He was now closer, his face still hidden by the hood. Sarah wanted to run, to flee, but her legs felt heavy, rooted to the ground. He shuffled closer, his steps tentative. Now she could see the details of his outfit—threadbare patches on his dark coat, grime on his gloved hands. He didn’t seem menacing. He just looked... dishveeled. Alone. Another howl rang out across the night, this one different. It wasn’t mournful; it was hungry. Suddenly, Sarah felt a jolt, a violent tremor starting deep within her bones. Her vision blurred, muscles tightening, stretching, contorting. The premium Italian leather of her shoes strained and tore as her feet elongated, sharp claws pushing into the ground. Her manicured nails thickened into lethal talons. A guttural growl escaped her throat, a sound so foreign to her usual composed self that it startled even her transforming mind. The fear that had gripped her moments before vanished, replaced by a primal instinct and an urgent need. The homeless man, startled by the noise, turned towards her, his eyes widening in confusion. Just a man, old and frail, merely seeking some pennies to get some grub to quell the gnawing emptiness in his stomach. Without thinking, Sarah lunged. The scream that ripped from his throat was abruptly silenced. The moonlight, once softly illuminating, now reflected the crimson stain spreading across the gravel. The fierce howls now seemed to celebrate, echoing her savage victory. The next morning, Sarah strolled into the gleaming lobby of her company, her designer heels clicking sharply against the polished marble floor. Her tailored suit fit just right, her makeup flawless. She offered the receptionist a warm smile, her usual cheerful demeanor radiating professionalism. Her colleagues greeted her with nods and smiles, blissfully unaware of the darkness lingering inside her. She discussed quarterly projections, strategized marketing campaigns, and navigated board meetings with ease. The only reminder of the previous night’s events was a faint scratch on her left hand, easily brushed off as a minor incident. Seated at her large mahogany desk, with the moon’s reflection, so beautiful and serene, streaming through the panoramic window, Sarah glanced at the calendar. Another successful month had passed. Another full moon had come and gone. And the cycle, she knew, would inevitably start again.
By Ashraf Almamloukabout a year ago in Fiction
Why We Use Gmail Accounts. Content Warning. AI-Generated.
Why We Use Gmail Accounts: A Comprehensive Insight In the digital age, email has become an essential tool for communication, collaboration, and productivity. Among the many email service providers available, Gmail stands out as one of the most popular and widely used platforms. Launched by Google in 2004, Gmail has revolutionized the way we interact with email. But why do millions of people and businesses worldwide choose Gmail? This article delves into the key reasons behind its popularity and continued relevance.
By Maxamed Sharifabout a year ago in Fiction
