Psychological
The Secrets my Mother Kept
Three days had passed since Alexander's father missed his birthday. Three days of careful conversations and avoided glances. Three days of Sydney sleeping in the guest room instead of going back to her apartment, though no one talked about why. Three days of Gran cooking elaborate breakfasts that no one ate and Grandpa Marcus taking longer and longer fishing trips.
By Parsley Rose 5 months ago in Fiction
The Quiet Apartment. Content Warning.
The Quiet Apartment By Theodore Homuth Mara pressed her ear against the wall again. It was 2:14 a.m., and the sound had returned—a soft, rhythmic thud-thud-thud, like a heartbeat buried in concrete. She had first noticed it a week ago, faint and irregular, pulsing through the paper-thin wall that separated her studio apartment from the vacant unit next door.
By Theodore Homuth5 months ago in Fiction
The Letter I Never Sent.
The Letter I Never Sent The words I wish I had the courage to share I used to think words didn’t matter if they were never spoken. That silence could protect you, shield you from rejection, from vulnerability. But I learned too late that silence can be louder than anything else.
By Muhammad Ilyas5 months ago in Fiction
The Breach. Content Warning.
The Breach Entry #1: June 1, 2025 Location: Somewhere in the Nevada Desert The sky bled red tonight, like God Himself had torn open a vein. I'm crouched in the ruins of an old gas station, the air thick with dust and something......heavier. Evil, maybe. My hands are still shaking from the fight. There were three of them – those shadow-things with eyes like oil slicks – came for me at dusk. I drove my blade through one, whispered the old words, and it screamed like a soul being ripped asunder. The other two fled. For now.
By Theodore Homuth5 months ago in Fiction
Cast No Shadow
The road takes all. She laid atop him, thigh against thigh, breath heavy on his neck. The first light of morning registered through the window slats, painting the rough and worn floorboards a dazzlingly soft orange. The movements, the breaths, all performative at best: hers for the coin in the offing, his because his thoughts were far from the dingy rented bedroom. Liquor, women, God–all failed to draw his mind away from the horizon.
By Matthew J. Fromm5 months ago in Fiction
The Seed of Hope. AI-Generated.
The air itself tasted of rust and forgotten dreams. For seven years, Elara had known little else, each breath a gritty reminder of what Earth had become. Outside the reinforced walls of Haven-7, the planet was a canvas of ochre and grey, painted by ceaseless dust storms that had long since scoured away cities and forests alike. The sun, a pale, indifferent disc, struggled to pierce the perpetual twilight, offering little warmth to a world that had forgotten how to bloom.
By Mehrdad Rajabi5 months ago in Fiction
