Psychological
The Fading
Amelia clutched the chipped teacup tighter, finding a pitiful solace in its glow against the encroaching cool that seemed to seep from the very walls. The old Victorian house, nestled amidst murmuring pines on the desolate coast, had always exuded a reserved quality, but lately, it felt undeniably hostile.
By Md. Sayhanul Arif2 years ago in Fiction
Dreams That Decode
Jack sat at his cluttered desk, his tired face shadowed by the dim monitor light. He was a seasoned programmer who was well-known for his unwavering work ethic and unrivaled ability to solve problems. With disheveled hair and glasses roosted problematically on his nose, he was the quintessential coder, lost in the maze of his own creation. In spite of his standing for figuring out the hardest code, this evening he ended up at a stalemate. The lines of code before him obscured into a unintelligible wreck, a glaring difference to the unmistakable rationale that typically directed his psyche. Each tick of the clock felt like a thunderclap in his ears as the project deadline loomed menacingly in just two days. He felt the unrelenting grip of stress, which got stronger with each passing hour. Jack's certainty faltered, an interesting event for somebody who flourished under tension. However, the heaviness of assumption and the apprehension about disappointment overwhelmed him, taking steps to smash his soul.
By Mike Taylor2 years ago in Fiction
The shattered mirror
### The Shattered Mirror Once, in the quaint town of Alderwood, nestled between rolling hills and ancient forests, lived two childhood friends, Clara and James. Their bond was one forged in the fires of shared dreams and endless adventures, a friendship that seemed unbreakable to those who witnessed it.
By Reader And Explainer2 years ago in Fiction
Run Through The Jungle
Author Unknown - April 17th 1968 The Devil himself reached from the jungle and dragged me into hell. A minute before, the jungle across the shallow valley swayed in the spring breeze. Minh glared over the stock of his RPD he had arranged in the brush nest. It was well concealed, and the veteran of three different colonial wars hated how we moved along our trench atop the gently rising hill. Bao and Tran smoked and lounged against the dirt wall. We dug while they smoked, always. I hated them.
By Matthew J. Fromm2 years ago in Fiction
Neighbors
Ruth tried to steady herself as she saw the police car enter their neighbor’s driveway. She turned to her husband. Herb’s gray hair looked as charming as ever. He sat in his usual stupor, watching the news at full volume. It never seemed to matter whether he had his hearing aids or not. Still, she loved him, even if they weren’t the same people anymore.
By Jarrett Smith2 years ago in Fiction
