Stream of Consciousness

Snakes on a Pole
2004: We split. You take our knowledge, I take our desire. The brain and heart metaphor is somewhat apt. Other parts remain neutral or retain sovereignty, and reluctantly aid us both. The separation seeming both involuntary and undesirable (particularly on my end), our spirits long for unfractionation, and tug on each other.
By A. S. Lawrence3 months ago in Fiction
Across The Merderet. Runner-Up in Parallel Lives Challenge.
I sped off to the recruiting post in Galena. Even though my birth certificate at St. Michaels said that Joseph F. Higgins was Born 1927 not 1926 like I told the recruiter, I wasn’t going to let that one year stop me. Hell or high water I was going to be a paratrooper.
By Matthew J. Fromm3 months ago in Fiction
Charcoal, Ash and a dash of color.
🖤 "The Colorless Pilgrim" . She stepped out of the house wrapped in shades of grayscale - coat a dusky charcoal, ivory scarf, boots the shade of ash. The world beyond her seemed bathed in dark.
By Antoni De'Leon3 months ago in Fiction
As the Future unfolds
AI merits —this in life: an alternate ego. How remiss of me to have overlooked such a possibility. In flesh Mandy was a million miles away from her AI twin Sandy..
By Madhu Goteti 3 months ago in Fiction
The Unseen
He placed a ring on her finger. “I won't be ordained, for four more years. You'll wait for me?” “I’m in love!" she reassured him. "What else can I do?!”
By Heather Scott3 months ago in Fiction
Paper Walls
Cheap rent. I move—for price, not charm. Small studio. Slanted floor under socks, wheezing radiator beside boxes, thin paint over thinner plaster: vintage as code, personality as warning.
By Milan Milic3 months ago in Fiction
Same Breath. Winner in Parallel Lives Challenge.
I saw the semi drift across the rain and slide toward my lane. I jerked the wheel right. Tires screamed. The world tilted, and the headlights spun over wet blacktop while the car fishtailed. Gravity pulled me sideways, and my stomach fell. I waited for the hit that would end everything.
By Joey Raines3 months ago in Fiction
The Man Who Lived Twice by [The Davids] . AI-Generated.
When Daniel wakes up to a message claiming he died yesterday, he’s thrust into a single day where time, guilt, and fate all fold in on themselves. Can he fix the one mistake that destroyed everything — or is the cost of redemption one life too many? Let’s find out .
By The Davids3 months ago in Fiction
Last Bus
Rain falls. The plaza shines under sodium lamps, and the air smells like wet metal as I hurry toward the idling bus whose display stutters, then holds on one word: LAST.
By Milan Milic3 months ago in Fiction
DON'T BLINK
I don’t know when it started. Maybe it was the rain from that afternoon. Heavy, rhythmic, drumming a cold insistence against the office windows. Maybe it was that blink I didn’t notice until afterward, when the world had quietly shifted a fraction of a second ahead of me.
By Pamela Dirr3 months ago in Fiction
In My Mind, I Let Go First
I sat in my car, crying. Not just because visiting James’ grave was always hard for me, but because of the way Eric acted while at the gravesite. How cold and distant he was the whole time. How his tone lacked any empathy even though he said all the “right” things in the moment.
By Jaye Ruggiero-Cash3 months ago in Fiction
The Shelter of Urban Decay?
You know the address. You know where "that" area is. What do you call it? The ghetto? The bad neighborhood? Gangsta's Paradise? Was it you who said, "I wouldn't be caught dead there?" Yeah. I was morbidly curious, but that's not how I got there.
By Shanon Angermeyer Norman3 months ago in Fiction