literature
Whether written centuries ago or just last year, literary couples show that love is timeless.
The Tomb Called Justice
The courthouse looms at the town’s center like a tomb that refuses to stay closed, a monument of cold marble and older secrets. Its columns do not merely support a roof; they form the ribcage of an idea—that human suffering can be bled out, measured, and bottled in the name of peace. Above the bench, the scales hang like the iron skeleton of a trapped bird, eternally suspended in a room that smells of dust and the metallic tang of old fear.
By Ginny Brownabout 6 hours ago in Humans
Rico's Bounce
Rico knows the discharge coordinator's voice before she rounds the corner. Third floor, east wing, room 314. Seven days in. The manila folder under her arm holds his aftercare plan—a photocopy of a photocopy, edges soft from being filed and refiled. She'll sit in the blue chair by the window, the one with the torn vinyl armrest, and she'll ask how he's feeling.
By R. Antonio Mattaabout 9 hours ago in Humans
Falling Between Every System
Modern social systems are often described as safety nets. Employment law protects workers. Healthcare programs provide treatment. Disability benefits replace lost income. Unemployment insurance bridges job loss. Each system is presented as a safeguard designed to catch people when life disrupts their ability to function normally. Yet for many people living with disability, chronic illness, or injury, the lived experience is the opposite. Rather than forming a net, these systems stack vertically, each with its own eligibility rules, thresholds, and assumptions. Instead of catching the fall, they create gaps. People do not slip through because they failed to try. They fall because the systems were never designed to align.
By Peter Thwing - Host of the FST Podcastabout 20 hours ago in Humans
Regulation at the Threshold
Author’s Note — Flower InBloom This series is part of my ongoing work exploring personal sovereignty through nervous system awareness and structural alignment. I write not to dramatize change, but to understand how the body organizes through it. When we learn to regulate at the threshold, endings stop feeling like collapse and begin revealing architecture.
By Flower InBlooma day ago in Humans
Moonlight Through The Pines
I’ve wandered a long time, longer than any reasonable man should, searching for the woman whose presence silences the echo in my ribcage. I sometimes tell myself I’m only scouting new opportunities, exploring the world, and weighing my options like any meticulous bachelor might. But the truth is less flattering: I am searching for her. The fierce one. The pure one. The monogamous spirit whose loyalty could melt frost off stone.
By Tony Martelloa day ago in Humans
The Hierarchy Will See You Now
That’s the order of things in a professional kitchen — the body files its complaints from the outside in, working toward the center, until eventually the center can’t hold. I noticed it first in my knuckles, the way they’d swell overnight and resist opening in the morning, stiff as old hinges. I ran them under hot water at the sink before a shift, waiting for them to remember what they were supposed to do. Then it moved to my wrists. Then deeper. By the time I understood what was happening, I had logged twenty-four years of service to a system that had never once asked how I was doing — only whether the line was ready.
By Leslie L. Stevens Writer | Marfa, Texasa day ago in Humans
