Stream of Consciousness
Ready for Winter to End
Snow and ice as far as the eye can see, patches of street indiscernible from road or yard. A thin glaze of ice, snow packed firm, conditions in which no one should venture forth. Fluffy drifts of snow danced upon the wicked wind. Severe gusts that cut like knives straight to the bone. Frost-nipped fingers and bitten toes. Noses and cheeks red from winter’s burn. Pale gray clouds blot out the sun—dull, achy fingers, joints, and feet inside, where heaters and furnaces struggle to keep pace.
By S.N. Evans2 years ago in Fiction
Doctor Arrested for Creating Human Statues
January 20, 2024 Boulder, CO On Friday Dr. Elijah Sudema, a geneticist at the University of Colorado Arnoult lab, made his first appearance at the Boulder County Court. Dr. Elijah Sudema was arrested on 14 counts of medical malpractice, reckless endangerment, first-degree assault, first-degree false imprisonment, theft of medical products, stolen property, 4 counts of embezzlement, and 2 counts of real estate fraud.
By Atomic Historian2 years ago in Fiction
Pond Socks
It was the dead of winter, and Timmy McDowel was sure that Ridgewood pond was finally frozen enough to skate on. Hustling to get dressed, his bedroom door opened. Being a red retriever, Ellie immediately began nibbling at the thick socks Timothy was pulling onto his feet. Giving in to her demands, Timmy tossed a stinkier sock across the room.
By Kale Sinclair2 years ago in Fiction
Snow Angels
The storm rolled into Boston just before midnight. The power went out sometime around two, disconnecting the entire south end neighborhood, including the slow charge on Brendan’s iPhone. Luckily, he never actually needed to use the alarm on his phone because that job was proudly performed daily by a trained professional.
By Kale Sinclair2 years ago in Fiction
A Dream of a Land
The air was thick with a putrid smell and the sky wasn’t the crystal blue skies that I remembered so well. How did the world come to this as if overnight? I was surrounded by the corpses of trees that no longer held colour or leaves, the wood was stained grey as if they had absorbed as much of the smoky ashes that flew in the air.
By Terri Allen2 years ago in Fiction
The Abyss
She took me away. She shouldn’t be allowed to do that, but she did, and now I don’t know where I am. It’s dark here. I didn’t realize how dark it could be. Have I truly only known light my whole life? Or does it just seem that way in the absence of it, my predicament made enormous by the lack of comparison? Either way, I can’t see anything. I feel pressure, though, coming from all sides, smothering me in this darkness. I have never been so alone.
By Caitlin Mitchell2 years ago in Fiction
