Stream of Consciousness
When a Doctor’s Hand Meets a German Official: A Story of Education That Could Not Overcome Dogma
A Brilliant Career and Perfect Results The man came to Germany from Lebanon in 2002. He worked hard, completed medical school and gradually climbed the German healthcare system. Eventually, he became a senior doctor at a German clinic, which reflected his considerable professional qualifications.
By Lenka Čihařováabout 3 hours ago in Confessions
I Read the Viral “Hospital Secret” Post So Your Family Group Chat Doesn’t Have To
The Hospital Will Never Tell You? Before You Share That Viral Post, Read This You have seen the article. Red headline. Six exclamation marks. First line: “The secret hospitals will never reveal.” You click. It tells you 90 percent of health problems heal themselves. It says doctors get rich off patients. It says traditional Chinese medicine is suppressed. It says schools secretly train poor people. By the end, your chest is hot, your fingers itch, and you want to forward it to the family group chat.
By Jin2 days ago in Confessions
Tears Fell Like Raindrops
I normally write my stories considering how they will be perceived. I have to admit at the outset that this one is primarily for me. They say it is good to get things off your chest and not to bottle things up. Every year at this time, I have the same problem. You will see what I mean if you read the story.
By Calvin London5 days ago in Confessions
Beach Canaries
Introduction This is another story on Seven Days In that is getting a lot of attention, and I noticed most of my recent fiction has been quite dark, and I wanted something that wasn't dark so this is a placeholder that will not disturb anyone.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 13 days ago in Confessions
A Love With Wings
I learned that pain and trauma prepared me for disappointment, but not for a love that can’t stay. Let me explain. Losing family members, losing my son to miscarriage, losing a friend— it doesn’t mean those people shouldn’t have been in my life. It doesn’t mean I stop loving them or regret knowing them. It means they stayed long enough to bloom— and even flowers fade.
By Mezmur13 days ago in Confessions
I Used to Think I Had to Grovel. Then I Saw the Elevator.
A sheet of red‑headed paper was posted on the cafeteria bulletin board. The housing allocation list. Chi Dawei looked for his name from the bottom up—second‑to‑last row, north‑facing, twelve square metres. He finished reading, said nothing, and turned to get hot water. Tea leaves floated on the surface; he blew on them three times before he drank. Someone nearby called out, "Dawei, where did you get?" He answered, "Fine. Quiet."
By Jin15 days ago in Confessions
Little Bits of Ballast
I woke today in the usual way and I had no idea that today would be one of those days because five o'clock wakeups after three hours of sleep are normal for me. But as the dawn broke and the day woke, the darkness descended. The scent of despair drifted in my nostrils and revulsion at existence fell over me without resistance. I did not want to talk and I always want to talk. I did not want anything. Eventually I sat and ate a strawberry trifle just cheap but tasty supermarket type. Nothing special but tasty and I ate it all. I laughed at the serving suggestions. Like it was suggesting a spoonful was enough for a bellyful and that anything more was preposterous I sunk that battleship and threatened my neck with a noose but as I don't like choking I thought about renting a cabin somewhere in the Highlands and drinking vodka and consuming sertraline like it was M&Ms and then I remembered that I didn't want to leave my mess for someone else to clean up especially when my mess was my own dead body so I sat and I let the hurt and the anxiety, the darkened black dog decimate me and accepted a hug from the only one I trust and felt a calmness. Not better not really but safer and one step off the edge or the precipice of the cliff that leads to oblivion or a clever poetic way of saying my death. I wanted at one point to dig my nails or a knife in and feel something. Anything. Be it pain euphoria or a little bit sick. Okay not sick. I don't want to be sick. What are the lyrics to the chorus of Here Comes the Flood by Peter Gabriel? I mean. Lord here comes the flood. But then. Does the flood keep rolling over the edge? But then we had Indian takeaway and my belly felt full and my heart a little fuller if my mind is slightly deranged dark and lost. I am not going to disappear but for today and maybe tomorrow I am not okay and as the old adage goes that is actually way newer than older than it is. That it's okay to not be okay. Say it with me. Loud and proud. It's okay to not be okay.
By Paul Stewart15 days ago in Confessions
The Morning My Gut Told Me Something Was Wrong
My wife and I live in a row of duplexes. Here, everybody's kids end up playing in everybody's yard at some point. I know which kid belongs to which house, their parents by name, and which ones aren't supposed to leave the yard without a grown-up watching. I’m aware of my living environment like that.
By Dadson Wanjohi 16 days ago in Confessions
The Conversation I Didn't Know I Needed With Josh
Josh has been my workmate for a couple of years now. He’s one of those guys who quietly became a real friend at some point, and I looked back and went, "hang on a minute, he's a proper mate" well after the fact. My car died on the side of the road once in the middle of nowhere and he drove twenty miles to come and pick me up.
By Dadson Wanjohi 17 days ago in Confessions
The 3-Second Scam
At three in the afternoon, Lin Yue scrolled past a post on Xiaohongshu. It promised a "collaboration opportunity" with a new café. The photo showed a round table covered in a linen cloth, with three desserts on it: crème brûlée with a charred top from a blowtorch, and a latte with a tulip pattern in the foam. The caption said the shop was looking for the first fifty "ordinary experience ambassadors" to try the menu for free, with only a 648‑yuan deposit required—fully refundable upon arrival.
By Jin18 days ago in Confessions
I have never wanted boys
That is the simplest way to say it, and the one my friends like least. They send me screenshots of twenty-two-year-olds with gym selfies and captions about “good vibes only.” I look at the pictures and feel nothing except a faint, embarrassed pity, like watching someone try to parallel park in a space that was never going to fit them. Their hands are still learning how to be hands. Their mouths are still practicing being mouths. I want something that has already decided what it is.
By Chahat18 days ago in Confessions
