Psychological
a heart hurt by the reality of the world
In a bustling city, there lived a young woman named Clara. She was an artist, with a heart full of dreams and a soul that saw beauty in the smallest things. Her days were spent painting vivid landscapes and tender portraits, her brush capturing the essence of a world she hoped was as beautiful as her art.
By Ashari Asgaf2 years ago in Fiction
When the Tears Fall Silent: The Solitary Suffering of the Lonely Heart.
The darkness of the night enveloped the world, shrouding the sky in a veil of blackness. In the silence of the stillness, the sound of a lone heart broken echoed through the emptiness. Tears cascaded down her face like crystalline rivers of sorrow, reflecting the light of a lone candle that flickered dimly in the room. She sat, alone and abandoned, her soul aching with the weight of her pain.
By Afikile Yolwa 2 years ago in Fiction
time and footsteps
Once upon a time in a quaint little town, there was an old clock tower that stood tall in the center of the square. The clock had been there for as long as anyone could remember, ticking away the seconds, minutes, and hours, marking the passage of time with a steady, comforting rhythm. Everyone in town relied on it to keep track of their days.
By Ashari Asgaf2 years ago in Fiction
The Locksmith. Content Warning.
He had had to do it. Keys were designed to be used. He came in in the night and stole a lock of her hair. She woke in the morning and thought that there was something different about her appearance but couldn't quite put her finger on it. She felt unbalanced and uneasy, but there was nothing obvious to point to her feeling this way.
By Rachel Deeming2 years ago in Fiction
Echoes of the Haunted Mansion
The old mansion loomed atop the hill like a brooding sentinel, its dark silhouette etched against the stormy sky. For decades, rumors had swirled about its cursed halls and the tragic fate of the family that once called it home. But tonight, as thunder rumbled ominously and lightning split the air, a group of adventurous souls dared to step foot inside.
By Syed Hammad Hussain2 years ago in Fiction
Confined But Not Broken: A Story of Rebellion in a Sterile World
Beyond the Sterile Walls The sterile white walls pressed in, each exhale echoing in some measure, a constant reminder of the confinement. Eloise traced a finger along the cool surface, the rhythmic hum of the ventilation system the sole company in the featureless room. Hunger gnawed at her stomach, a dull ache that had become a deadly companion. How long had it been? Days? Weeks? Time stretched and warped in this isolation.
By Kingsley Gomes, PhD.2 years ago in Fiction
The Bag - Anna
Malcolm's heart filled with dread. Anna was standing in front of him and her face was full of shock and bewilderment. Being a Perceptive meant that she was more sensitive than most. He had such guilt attached to her and who she was. He was trying to be a better father to her, now that they were away from danger.
By Rachel Deeming2 years ago in Fiction
Would you kill Hitler?. Content Warning.
That is the question often asked in drunk company. Would you kill Hitler if you could go back in time? You won't usually find any disagreement when somebody answers yes. However, there was a major problem in my case. I was the only one sober so I started thinking. The fact that I'm also a bit autistic didn't do me any favours here, because I was about to lay down one of the coldest explanations ever. As you would have guessed by now, I said "no"… All the faces turned pale in disbelief, the shock on their face is hard to describe in words even for a senior writer. I quickly realised the situation could escalate if I don't clarify my answer fast. What did I drag myself into? I wasn't even invited to this party to begin with. By now I'm really wishing I could go back in time and give a different answer… It's too late for that. I have to embrace the reality now.
By Big Nose Parody2 years ago in Fiction
184 Doubling Down: a Kafkaesque Fable Where the Sky's the Limit
One morning, Mr. Brobdingnag woke from troubled dreams, finding himself transformed in his bed into twice his size. Sitting up, his head hit the sloping dormer ceiling. He realized he'd best escape this room if still growing. He couldn't stand tall, instead crawling to his bedroom door.
By Gerard DiLeo2 years ago in Fiction
Glass House
“Glass House” There is more to a reflection than what can be seen. ~ He wanted to hate her because she was human. His lust drove him to stay seated. The life’s fire was dying inside of her, as she continued to dance with her partner. Her heels had a silent echoing tap that would have matched his heart if it were still beating within him. Her eyes held passion and fire that none could compare to. He could feel the beat of her dance vibrating through his bones.
By Alisha Wilkins ✒️🦋🖋️2 years ago in Fiction
