Satire
The Boy Who Wasn't There
I hadn’t been home in twelve years. Not really. Not the kind of home that smells like old wood and lemon soap, with drawers that jam halfway and a back door that groans like a dying animal. But here I was, back in my parents’ house — the house I grew up in — standing in the silence of the foyer, key still trembling in my hand.
By Alain SUPPINI7 months ago in Fiction
The Second First Time Again Revisited
"This will be the second time you have invented a new genre of writing?" Sean asked skeptically of his close friend Tom as they drove slowly down Main Street. It was a gorgeous spring day, traffic was light, and they had the windows rolled down. "Not exactly my doubting Thomas." Sean was quite pleased with himself for having thought up that reply, which managed to use his friends name in a way which he thought quite clever and he laughed softly to himself before continuing. "I have invented many more genre than two, however, this is the second one I have invented specifically in response to a writing challenge. And, ironically, or perhaps not, they are both what I would call meta genre. The first I called meta-magical satironical realism." Tom looked at Sean and rolled his eyes, snorted loudly then said "Satironical is not a word dude." "It is a word I invented, exactly like the genre which it describes. You will note, if you are paying attention, that an invented word to describe an invented genre is also very meta which is perfect since the entire genre is meta, meta-magical at least. And of course, realistic. Thus the name." Tom laughed out loud at that. His friend Sean was a nice guy, and he really did like him, but he was certifiably insane and often said things that made sense to no one but himself, and sometimes not even that much sense. "Buddy, you are one strange dude. OK. So, you have me interested. What is this second new meta genre you have invented?" "I call it meta meta satironical realism for reasons you will understand if you pay attention closely. "Wait a second buddy, slow down. I need to make sure I understand what you just said. You said meta meta satironical realism? So it has an extra layer of meta and is without any magical elements, but is still satironical, whatever that means? "Don't let anyone ever say you are not capable of paying attention my youthful ward Thomas, for clearly you are. You are correct. Meta meta satironical realism. And satironical simply means it is both satirical and ironic at the same time, or it can mean that it is satirical about being ironic or that it is a satire of an ironic story or ironically it can also mean it is irony that feels like satire or which has a satirical tone. Get it?" "Gheezus Mary and Joseph Sean you are friggin insane. But sure, I'll play along. I get it." They had stopped at a red light, so Sean took a deep breath and composed himself while he waited for the light to turn green before continuing. "I call this genre meta meta satironical realism because the particular challenge for which it is being written is asking the writer to tell a story about doing something again,which feels like the first time. My story, is about how this particular story I am telling right now feels almost exactly like a previous meta story I submitted for a different writing challenge for which the prompt was to write a story in the genre of magical realism. That was the inspiration for the birth of the aforementioned never before seen genre of meta magical satironical realism." "OK Sean. So go ahead. Tell the story. How does it feel almost exactly like that time?" "First, that story failed to win or place in the challenge or receive even an ounce of recognition nor praise, even though it was a work of genius likely unparalleled in the history of writing. This story, is almost certainly destined to the same fate and it is almost as genius. Second that story was intended to be satironical and so is this one. Third and finally, that story was intended to be meta, whereas this one is intended to have one extra layer of meta." Sean paused there, appearing deep in thought for a moment, then spoke again. "My apologies, I suppose that would not actually be a similarity between the two stories, but rather a difference. Oh well. Even I sometimes make mistakes." Both Sean and Tom laughed out loud at that as they continued driving slowly down Main Street feeling like it was the first time they had even done so, even though in actuality it was the second.
By Everyday Junglist7 months ago in Fiction
When Bullets Paused for Friendship
The snow was falling lightly on the border between two nations locked in a bitter war. The year was 2023, and tensions between the fictional countries of Lirvia and Ostenia had escalated into full-blown conflict. Each side accused the other of invading territories and undermining peace, and neither was willing to yield.
By Intresting Stories7 months ago in Fiction
A Mother's Goodbye Beneath the Olive Tree
The wind whispered through the fields of Amara village, carrying with it the scent of soil, wheat, and a quiet sorrow that lingered in every home touched by war. Mariam stood at the edge of her small wooden porch, her hands rough from years of working the land, her back hunched slightly—not from age, but from burdens carried in silence.
By Intresting Stories7 months ago in Fiction
10 Years of Marriage Equality
A Decade of Love and Progress Where were you on June 26, 2015? For me, it was a normal day at work. But that day changed history—it was the day same-sex marriage became legal across all 50 states in the U.S. We celebrated love, equality, and a hard-won victory for the LGBTQ+ community, activists, and everyone who believes in justice.
By Shafi Ullah Darwesh7 months ago in Fiction
The mirror of the second chances
A cold breeze danced through the cracks of the abandoned cottage as Maya brushed dust from the old mirror. It had been years since anyone had set foot inside. The house belonged to her grandmother, a woman known in the village for strange tales and stranger antiques. Now, after her passing, Maya had returned—not to reclaim her inheritance, but to find a part of herself that she'd lost along the way.
By Shehzad khan7 months ago in Fiction
