Psychological
Con of Humanity | Part 2
Beneath Mount Etna Orazio’s body instantly disintegrated as it touched the scorching silver liquid, sending a harrowing stream of dark gray and brown smoke through the dense underground air. Clement shifted his arm to retrieve the pistol lodged within his waistband but a well placed bullet to his upper left shoulder prevented him from acquiring his weapon.
By Kale Sinclair2 years ago in Fiction
In a Lonelier Place. Runner-up in 3:00 AM Challenge.
The screech and jolt of hard brakes forced Laurel out of sleep. The car careering around a bend, a rock raised in temper. She had both been in the car and watching the car side swerve into the headlights of another driver. A strangled scream. Dizzy. Disorientated.
By Rachel Robbins2 years ago in Fiction
Stephen King Short Story Review. Top Story - June 2024.
Review of Stephen King's short story All That You Love Will Be Carried Away King spends time on character development and building suspense in this short story, which isn't horror, so I put it in the fiction community.
By Andrea Corwin 2 years ago in Fiction
Bamboo life
When I first moved to Bamboo Life, I thought I'd stepped into a postcard. The eco-village was nestled in a lush, green valley surrounded by towering bamboo groves. It was a place where time seemed to slow down, and life was simpler, in the best possible way.
By ignatius awang braminia2 years ago in Fiction
The Alchemy of Coin
**The Alchemy of Coin** --- In the dim glow of the city’s neon haze, where dreams often wilt in the cold shadow of reality, lived a young man named Eli Jensen. Eli’s life was a patchwork of overdue bills, faded aspirations, and a lingering debt that clung to him like a shroud. At twenty-four, he had already tasted the bitter dregs of misfortune more than many endure in a lifetime.
By Achmadani Hermawan2 years ago in Fiction
Days Like These
Note:First draft, any suggestions would be a great help! Inspired by the tragic story of Matthew Trickett. I jolt upright in bed. The acidic stench of cold sweat fills my nostrils, and the sheets stick to my skin. Rolling over, I look at my mobile. No messages. 3:04 am. Since returning home, I have been waking up with the same dream almost every night.
By Scott Christenson🌴2 years ago in Fiction
