Psychological
A Mere Bagatelle
Damned arthritis. Thank God I put in the corkscrew staircase. You can't fall very far on that. The fellow who installed it demonstrated that vividly. He knocked me off balance. I fell two steps and stopped. Ingenious. Of course I could always fall upstairs, but, as my father explained, that's good luck. When I asked him what made it good luck he said, because you didn't fall downstairs of course.
By Paul A. Merkley2 months ago in Fiction
Dust and Static. Top Story - December 2025.
Just one more box. Frank thought to himself as he turned back into his childhood home. The loss of his parents was, on paper, a tragedy, a car crash that couldn't have been avoided, but in reality it was no real loss to him. It had been years since he'd spoken to them, and even longer since he'd seen them.
By Liam Storm2 months ago in Fiction
Some Notes for the Project
Memo to Self: The following notes were found at the building site after a search was conducted by the replacement crew. No sign of the original workers hired is available except for the notebook discovered and recorded here. We will keep searching to see if we can discover what happened. And the notes might provide some sort of clue as to what went down. The owner of the original site cannot be contacted and we still have work to complete.
By Kendall Defoe 2 months ago in Fiction
Safe is where you choose it to be.
The key is still in the lock. It seems I was in a hurry to get out. I grasp onto the handle, as I have done every time before. My knuckles white, I rub at the ornate filigree tip. Glancing down, I can glimpse my reflection in that sliver of brass. Polished to gleaming from my every attempt. I note the notches along the doorframe. Two, four, six and eight.
By Sarah O'Grady2 months ago in Fiction
THE END - part three. Content Warning.
I walked for a quite while. It was taking longer than I thought it would. The blister on my foot had popped, and was getting bigger with every step, when fifty feet in front of me, Barkley jumped out of a grove of aspen trees. He yapped at me and ran in a tight circle, like he was impatient and wanted me to hurry up. I picked up the pace of my hobbling, but before I got to him, he yapped one more time, and dashed back into the brush under the aspens. When I got to where he had disappeared, I saw neon lights sparkling through the tall, skinny trees, and I knew it was the convenience store. Relief. I was lost. Now I’m found.
By Bruce Kell2 months ago in Fiction
Chatroom 88AE
Mikhail unpackaged the dead server. It was supposed to be a fun salvage job. Just a weekend distraction to pass the time along. Productively. He had bought the dusty black drive from a University auction, the kind of forgotten tech no one bothered to catalogue. Half the lot was junk; cracked monitors, obsolete GPUs, cables that no modern port recognized. But this drive was different. Heavy. Warm. Even before he plugged it in. Like it had been thinking in its sleep.
By Kristen Keenon Fisher2 months ago in Fiction
When Everything Beeps. Content Warning.
When he walked through the door, there was a beep. It didn't bother him; maybe it was a security thing. He came in and put the television on, but before it came on, it beeped. Each time he changed a channel, it beeped. This was beginning to grate a little.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred - EBA2 months ago in Fiction
92 First Avenue. Top Story - December 2025.
I walked slowly to the house that I had grown up in, and I noticed how it had changed in appearance from my childhood. I eyed the three concrete steps that connected to the sidewalk, that went up across the yard to the front porch. I hesitated, I don’t even know why, but it was an end of an era I suppose.
By Susan Payton2 months ago in Fiction
Don't Tell Him. Top Story - December 2025. Content Warning.
“I took my gun and vanished...” - The Partisan, as sung by Leonard Cohen -0- Dear mom, I’m sorry that you have to hear about my going in any way but from my own lips. If I had waited to tell you, if I had waited until you awoke, you might have talked me out of it. Talked some sense into my damned fool head, made me stay at home. Stay where I would be warm and safe and fed.
By Alexander McEvoy2 months ago in Fiction
