Psychological
Water's Edge
Cordelia felt like she needed to get to the cabin as quickly as possible. She had just gotten off work and was on her way to her first vacation in what felt like forever. When she finally saw it, her heart leaped, she hadn’t remembered her grandmother’s cabin being so grand. It looked like something out of a calendar. Dark wood logs stacked three stories with a wraparound porch, surrounded by the polychromatic leaves of autumn. Getting away from the coast was exactly what she needed, regardless of what her friends had to say. Living on the beach had not helped her anxiety about water. This place seemed as dry as it could get and that was exactly what she really needed.
By Raine Fielder4 years ago in Fiction
The Unexpected Visitor
Here is a fictional short story about an unexpected visitor with a twist. ... My hands molded the dough. Flour seeped into my fingernails as I turned the dough over. I placed the soft succulent mixture into a tin and put it into the oven before rinsing my hands under warm running water, drying them quickly on a towel. I drank the rest of the red wine from my glass and quickly wiped down the grey marble worktop cleaning the specs of flour off with a damp cloth. The trilling of the doorbell made me jump as my ginger head hit the saucepans hanging from the canopy.
By Denise Larkin5 years ago in Fiction
The Perfect Dress
The shop had been there as long as Lily could remember. She thought back to when she was seven years old and her sister took her there for the first time. It was enormous, with frosted glass windows and pointy spires on the roof, like miniature church steeples. She had paid particularly great attention to the door. It was a large wooden door with an oval-shaped, stained-glass picture of a pink and red rose. The glass met the door in perfectly smooth connection. The handle curved outward and then down, like a swan, craning its neck to eat the last crumb of bread thrown at its feet. A small lever above the handle would release the lock and it clicked when you held it down with your thumb. The door made an eerie creaking sound when it opened, almost like the doors in the scary movies, but this door wasn’t scary.
By Amos Glade5 years ago in Fiction
Hellfire and Kindness
My world is one of black and white. Of good and evil. My world is after mankind's destruction. Sobs and hysteria echo about the empty valleys and cities now where there was once endless noise, a mixture of good and bad and anywhere in between. Laughter is rarely heard and when it is, it is looked down upon with terror as if the very idea or thought, or sound of joy might bring more devastation to the surface of our world.
By Hope Martin8 years ago in Fiction
