Stream of Consciousness

The Baker's Paradox
Rutaa wiped the sweat draining off his bald head like a stream before drinking an entire goblet of water. The water wasn’t cool, nothing in his bakery was cool at the best of times, but the festival wasn't the best of times for a baker. He appreciated the humble reprieve none the less.
By Matthew J. Fromm4 days ago in Fiction
The Voice Inside My Head.
“Try the oysters, they flew them in this morning.” “Everything here flies in, doesn’t it?” “You finally made it, you know.”
By Cathy (Christine Acheini) Ben-Ameh.4 days ago in Fiction
Just Checking In On You
‘How are you doing?’ ‘I've been better, honestly.’ ‘Have you had any nutrients today?’ ‘Nah, I don't feel like it.’
By Moon Desert4 days ago in Fiction
The Silent Climb
In a peaceful village nestled between vast hills and serene lakes, lived a boy named Ayan. He was known for his quiet nature, yet his mind was bursting with dreams. Unlike his peers who were satisfied with routine, Ayan longed for adventure, exploration, and achievement—all synonyms of the ambitions he nurtured silently.
By meerjanan5 days ago in Fiction
The Silent Climb
In a quiet village nestled between green hills and calm lakes, there lived a boy named Ayan. He was quiet by nature, often seen sitting under the old fig tree with a faraway look in his eyes. While others played, he would sketch mountains, write in his worn notebook, and stare at the peaks beyond the horizon.
By meerjanan5 days ago in Fiction
The Lantern in the Attic
There was a house on the edge of the village that no one spoke of, not unless the wind was still and the night felt too long. It stood at the top of the hill, half-hidden by ivy and time, its windows clouded with dust, its porch sagging under the weight of years. The other children said it was cursed. They claimed they’d seen shadows where there should be none, heard laughter when the house had been empty for decades.
By meerjanan5 days ago in Fiction
The Window That Waited
In a quiet corner of the city, where the traffic never quite quieted and the buildings leaned into each other like old friends, stood a weathered apartment block with peeling paint and a rusted fire escape. It wasn’t grand or new, but it had stood for decades, holding stories in its walls.
By meerjanan5 days ago in Fiction
Chat GPT, Deepfakes, and AI Ethics: How Artificial Intelligence Is Changing the Face of Reality
Chat GPT, Deepfakes, and AI Ethics: How Artificial Intelligence Is Changing the Face of Reality A critical threshold has been crossed by artificial intelligence. It is starting to influence our perceptions of truth, creativity, and even reality itself, rather than merely speeding up our work or automating repetitive tasks. AI is compelling society to reconsider ethics, accountability, and the direction of technology, from Chat GPT providing complex answers in a matter of seconds to deepfakes that blur the distinction between real and artificial.
By Farida Kabir5 days ago in Fiction
The Silent War the World Is Already Fighting
The Silent War the World Is Already Fighting When people think about war, they imagine soldiers, tanks, and explosions. But today, some of the most dangerous battles are happening quietly—without gunfire, without borders, and often without the public even noticing. This is the age of cyber warfare, and it has already changed how nations compete for power.
By Wings of Time 5 days ago in Fiction
Silence. Top Story - June 2024. Content Warning.
Author’s Note: I unlisted this short story because I was submitting it to a non-vocal contest. Sadly, I didn’t win. I hope you enjoy if you’re new :)
By Alexander McEvoy6 days ago in Fiction
The Alchemical Kitchen
The Alchemical Kitchen A Manual for Living Life Through a Spiritual Lens Preface: Before You Begin Life does not arrive with instructions. This manual does not attempt to supply them. Instead, it offers orientation—like a compass rather than a map. To live spiritually is not to escape life, but to engage it consciously.
By Madhu Goteti 6 days ago in Fiction
I Love You
If love could feel, it would linger in your caress, a tingle that lasts long after you touch me. Your tender soul, kindled with the burning night, so pure to my heart as we lay wrapped in red silk sheets.
By Susan L. Marshall7 days ago in Fiction