Classical

Fear
Introduction "Psyche and Cerberus" by Edmund Dulac is another amazing image shared by The Enchanted Booklet on Facebook: This is my story inspired by the pictures rather than the subject of the picture.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred about 17 hours ago in Fiction
Maze
I remember falling asleep on a cold October night. Sprinting around another corner, I’m met by another gray wall. Wall after wall…an endless labyrinth.
By Matthew J. Fromm12 days ago in Fiction
My Father Said Three Words About My Watch. It Took Me Five Years to Understand.
Where the Second Hand Passes I The watch shop sat on the ground floor of the mall. Too bright, almost fake. I had just started working. I wanted to buy one thing that would stay with me. In the glass cases, the dials looked like tiny stages. Some had diamonds. Some had too many functions. Some all but announced their price. I looked for a long time and stopped at a Longines Master Collection. Silver barleycorn dial. Blued steel hands. A date window. Quiet. It didn’t try to prove anything.
By Jin12 days ago in Fiction
The Meadow and Garden
Do not plant the seeds of violence in your home, for they will never grow into the blossoms you desire. I walked with the Lord, and as I looked about me, I found myself in a meadow. He was no longer beside me. I had forgotten Him for a moment, and no more than a moment. I looked up.
By Chase McQuade13 days ago in Fiction
Taken Back
Introduction This is another wonderful image shared by The Enchanted Booklet on Facebook here: "The Haunted House" by Thomas Hood can be read here:
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 13 days ago in Fiction
Benevolent Gardens
The was room cool and dark, but Braffion was exuding with anticipation. On his messy bed, he stared at his dresser. No, not just dresser. He stared at what was on top of the dresser.
By Devond Devoe14 days ago in Fiction
The Hotel That Remembered Everyone
The hotel had been closed for twenty-three years. So why did someone keep leaving fresh flowers outside my room? I first noticed them on a Tuesday morning, three days after checking into the Blackwood Hotel. A dozen white roses rested against my door, their petals glistening with water. Beneath them lay a small envelope bearing my name.
By Behind the Curtain15 days ago in Fiction
Buttons
You stand in the glowing cubical: four white walls, one overhead white light, nothing colorful rainbow hues to interrupt the monotony.
By Matthew J. Fromm17 days ago in Fiction
nothing.
Something pushes you down steep stone stairs. You can feel the heat rising as you descend. Burning light illuminates the tunnel ahead, and if your hands weren’t holding onto the sharp stone walls, stretching to find balance, you’d use them to cover your eyes.
By Fraser Young20 days ago in Fiction
I Sat in the Driver's Seat of a Car I Was Never Supposed to Touch
You are not supposed to be here. You know this before you touch the door. The sign on the chain-link fence says NO ENTRY. AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. But the gate hangs open six inches, just wide enough to suggest permission if you are the kind of person who needs permission to be suggested.
By Jin21 days ago in Fiction
White Bird Island: The Summer Camp That Never Let Children Go Home
The sea is very blue. A white bird skims under the clouds, its wings cutting the wind. Far off there is an island, like an emerald floating on the sea. White buildings are scattered on the island. Lawns are trimmed neat and even. Children in white dresses and white shirts sing on the grass.
By Jin22 days ago in Fiction
Stitch: The lore of Sara Foxgrave.
Sara didn’t even know why she went out there that morning. She told herself it was just curiosity, just wanting to see how far the construction crew had gotten on the new house, but really it was because she hadn’t come back here since she returned. Not once. The old willow tree still hunched over the hill like it was guarding Lake Downing, its branches rattling in the cold wind, whispering the same secrets they used to whisper when she and Birdi climbed it and pretended they were queens of the whole damn world. The lake hadn’t changed at all. But she had. It felt smaller now, or maybe she did.
By Syl De'Vil23 days ago in Fiction