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K. Kocheryan
Bio
I write, delete, write, and on most days, delete again.
Achievements (1)
Stories (43/0)
You ever see a human being walked by their dog?
The scene is this: it's about thirty degrees Fahrenheit, cloudy, with specks of drizzling rain icily pecking at my face. All the while, a dog is walking me this morning—full speed, with the power of a young hunter about to find his prey(squirrel, cat, and/or a leaf that looked at them funny).
By K. Kocheryan6 months ago in Writers
Critiques Needed: First pages of Project Styx. Top Story - January 2024. Content Warning.
Authors note: I would like constructive critiques on the first pages of a sci-fi fantasy book I am working on. I would like to know first impressions and things that need to be worked on. This is so I can get an idea of what an agent or editor might think. I also know that this is long—no need to read the whole thing, in fact, tell me when you lose interest.
By K. Kocheryan7 months ago in Critique
How a Painting of a P*ssy Helped Shape an Art Movement. Content Warning.
The painting itself, when viewed from today’s society and our modern history by a bird flying through all our chapters of human existence—is not all too explicit or scandalous, maybe a little provocative towards some wide, dry eyes. Though back in the artist's day, it faced controversy because it's a painting of a boob, torso, thighs, and a p*ssy. (Google it for the uncensored version.)
By K. Kocheryan7 months ago in Art
The Door’s Locked. Finalist in 2023 Vocal Writing Awards - Horror Fiction. Top Story - September 2023. Content Warning.
Knock. Knock. Knock. Cherry stood in front of the accident: a lake hidden between tall whispering trees with a perfectly preserved old wooden dock. The lake, which had a local nickname, but wasn’t important enough for Cherry to remember, contained countless good memories; it washed over the area in a thick coat of paint: its hues ever-changing after every visitor. But that was its lie, and within that lie hid its true depths, the memories caged, and the number of bodies it had stored over its long life. Even Cherry couldn’t help but indulge, imagining a day when she would watch the stillness, soaking her feet in the stained water.
By K. Kocheryan10 months ago in Fiction
Chapter: OCD and that Thing.
(Written in third person for distance.) Half her feet dangled over the cliff edge ever since she first heard God Pan's silent shout as a child. Sometimes she could predict when it would happen; sometimes, she could not. But whenever it happened, something behind her would dig their fingers into her back and push. She would lean forward. And when she leaned forward, heels still firmly planted, eyes looking down towards a cold void, she saw all the horrible possibilities pushing and pulling at the surface—teeth trying to cut through, claws trying to rip open. However, when she wasn’t looking, they would merely knock.
By K. Kocheryan10 months ago in Chapters
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