Short Story
A Breeze I Wish To Forget
The pictures upheld itself to Natajra’s standard as the driver cruises through the city. The skies were pretty, it wasn’t too hot or too cold outside, and the garden and palms trees were absolutely beautiful. Natajra pinched herself wondering if she was in heaven. “Ouch!” She whispered to herself as she rubs the tiny pain away.
By Devond Devoe11 days ago in Fiction
Gravitational Pull and the Moon
"That's an amazingly astute observation. I couldn't have said it better myself." "Yeah, but like — just because I can reach that conclusion logically doesn’t mean I can feel it. You know? Like my emotions are on the other side of the planet from me. No, they're on the fucking moon, and I'm here, and my logic means nothing at all because I can't get myself to feel what I know, and there's no oxygen where my emotions live, and I'm suffocating."
By Mallory Rose11 days ago in Fiction
The "Amazing" Digital Circus
If you’ve spent any significant amount of time on the internet recently, you’ve probably seen her: a small, wide-eyed jester character looking like she’s on the verge of a total nervous breakdown. That’s Pomni, the reluctant star of The Amazing Digital Circus, a pilot episode that didn’t just go viral—it exploded, racking up hundreds of millions of views and proving that indie animation is currently eating Hollywood’s lunch.
By Teodor Monescu11 days ago in Fiction
How to Fly
Good evening y’all! It’s your boy, HP Sullivan, and thanks for sticking with me into the final chapter of our journey to flight. It’s the one we’ve been waiting for, gang! We’re doing this! We’ve come so far together and I hope each of y’all are proud of yourselves. I am. Lots of folks will have given up by now, but not you, and that’s really saying something. I mean it.
By Faris Lannon11 days ago in Fiction
A Rich Man’s War
A Rich Man’s War The men who wanted war never smelled it. They sat in cosy offices warmed by polished wood and quiet agreement, tracing borders with clean fingers, moving lives with the slide of a pen. They spoke of strategy as if it were a game, of honour as if it were theirs to spend. War, to them, was something to be chosen, something to be craved, because it gave them power without risk. Down below, the craving did not exist.
By Marie381Uk 11 days ago in Fiction
Not There. Content Warning.
He always touched me like he was checking I was still there. Not urgently. Not roughly. Just a hand on my wrist, my shoulder, the small of my back when we moved through rooms together. A habit I learned to expect before I learned to question. I told myself it was affection, that he needed closeness the way some people need reassurance. I never pulled away. I didn’t want him to think I could disappear again.
By Courtney Jones11 days ago in Fiction
Walters Song. Content Warning. AI-Generated.
~Walters Song~ As Charlie awakes, he glances over at his vintage Garfield clock and quickly realizes that he overslept. “Oh, dear God! This cannot be happening…I set my bloody alarm!” he squealed while racing downstairs to pour his already pre-brewed coffee. “Ugh, where’s the damn sweetener?” he mutters under his breath. As Charlie gulps his coffee, he glances up at his 2018 calendar of his favorite band, Spoon, and realizes the date today: February 20th. He was not late for anything…his partner Phillip’s plane gets in tomorrow, the 21st, but what he does realize, as tears begin to infiltrate his rare dark green eyes, was that this day, eight years ago, was the day he got sober, and his journey of healing began.
By A.J. Timpano11 days ago in Fiction
