Psychological
The Last Flight
In the remote heart of the desert, where the endless expanse of dunes stretched out like an ocean of sand, a small commercial plane fought against the turbulence of a sudden sandstorm. The passengers aboard the aircraft exchanged anxious glances, their whispers filled with fear. Among them was Captain James Ashford, a seasoned pilot who had faced many challenges in his career, but this was unlike anything he had ever experienced.
By Haris Hadzic2 years ago in Fiction
Reduced Speed
Author's preface: I was home visiting my parents recently and had the opportunity to spend a little bit of time with a friend who was the protagonist of a story I wrote many years ago titled "Reduced Speed". Seeing her reminded me of that story and so, out of curiosity, I went back and read it again. Turns out I still really like it. It is disturbing, sad, and glum, but with a wistful tone that somehow feels almost a little (very little) hopeful. It is also powerful and emotionally impactful. Maybe those feelings are amplified for me since I am a part of the story and 'Shannon' (not her real name) from the story remains my friend to this day. Moreover it was written not long after the sudden and tragic death of my wife of only two years, Victoria. Anything I wrote at that time effects me greatly today no matter what the topic. I am republishing it with only a few minor changed from the original.
By Everyday Junglist2 years ago in Fiction
Abduction
How the hell I had gotten here in this forsaken place, God only knew. The last thing I remembered was walking along the beautiful Boardwalk, enjoying the lighted sights. When suddenly, someone huge motherfucker walked up and grabbed me from behind, sticking a smelly fucking rag over my face and knocking me out. I woke up somewhere in the desert with the sun blinding me.
By Mother Combs2 years ago in Fiction
The Chronicles of Maua
In the land of Maua, a realm where magic flowed like rivers and ancient legends danced in the wind, a timeless battle between good and evil had etched its mark upon the tapestry of history. At the heart of this struggle lay the legendary Crystal of Mwanga, a repository of unimaginable power that held the potential to sway the balance in favor of either side.
By The POTUSFanClub2 years ago in Fiction
Donnie Mellons
"Whenever you are buying a used car from a person, there are two things you need to pay the most attention to. The headliner and the trunk. People that take care of their cars, that really love their cars and care about them, always keep the headliner and trunk clean, and in good condition, those who don't, don't. If I see a beat up, dirty headliner or trunk, I walk away." Donnie paused for a moment, furrowed his brow, obviously deep in concentration then continued. "And, oh yeah, don't forget pet hair. If you see any pet hair, it's not necessarily an instant walk away, but you better believe I am knocking the price down by 5-10% off of whatever I was already thinking about offering." Thomas thought about what he had just heard, and it seemed to make a lot of sense. Then again, anytime Donnie said anything it seemed to make a lot of sense. He spoke with an air of authority about any topic, and for both Thomas, and just about everyone else, it made it very hard to question the correctness of anything Donnie ever said about anything. The fact that Donnie had two Ph.D.'s in the biological sciences added a ton of credibility. It was a classic case of authority bias, one of Donnie's favorite cognitive biases, and, one, he never failed to use to his advantage.
By Everyday Junglist2 years ago in Fiction
The retired Hitman
Phlebutton had just celebrated his 84th birthday. His brain was just as clear as when he had been twenty and one, or so he told himself. They had assigned him all of the juiciest targets when he was the Hitman, mostly politicians who were either crooked, or wanted to do the right thing.
By Novel Allen2 years ago in Fiction
The Road. Content Warning.
Today, I conclude what has been this long journey. Here I am, back on the road. It was inevitable that my journey ends where it began. I walk along this path, cars pass me by, and a trail of blood haunts my memories. When I first began to walk, I encountered Margot. There she was, beautiful, enchanting, and some might even say, she shined brightly. So what did I do? I killed her.
By Nathan Miller2 years ago in Fiction
Journey
The desert, a vast expanse of endless dunes and relentless sun, stretched out before me. It was a place of desolation, where the unforgiving elements painted a landscape of stark beauty. The sand, golden and scorching, seemed to go on forever, and the heat of the sun pressed down on me, making each step a test of endurance.
By Haris Hadzic2 years ago in Fiction
The Letters of Eustace Fairfax
On the 5th June, 1877, Mr Eustace Fairfax set off on an exploration of the Sahara Desert with one week of food and water rations. What you are about to read are the four letters his sister, Mrs Penelope Ellington, recieved. Though he could not post them, they were eventually found on his person when he was located. His final letter is not signed off for reasons that our department have not been able to find out.
By Annie Kapur2 years ago in Fiction
