Humor
Cold Feet and Close Calls. AI-Generated.
It was just me in the office that winter, working for the Parks and Recreation Department. My supervisor, Carl, was new—just transferred from somewhere down south, and he was not a fan of the cold. Every morning, he’d come in wrapped in three scarves, a giant puffer jacket, and at least two pairs of gloves.
By Bhaskar Das2 years ago in Fiction
The Onion Wars - 1
Alex opened the door of his Austin mansion in response to a persistently ringing doorbell. He didn’t sleep well at night and decided to stay in bed later than usual. He had nowhere to go after yesterday’s bad news. He hardly managed to pull his silk bathrobe and tie it around his stout short body. Whatever hair he had left on his balding head was disheveled.
By Lana V Lynx2 years ago in Fiction
Unreal Connections
At ten-thirty, the sun was still faint in the morning of January winter like a pale moon in the middle of an ocean of clouds. I was brushing my teeth. I gazed at my reflection in the mirror, I was in my school uniform with a school bag on my shoulder.
By Dhahin Aqil Siddique2 years ago in Fiction
A Local Pub (For Local People)
The regulars didn't use that toilet. Sometimes, a newcomer would come in. Conversations pause. Every eye drilled into the hapless patron, skewered on all sides by those sharp gazes, frozen like a rabbit in headlights. Glancing left and right, wondering if this was a mistake. This place was too local.
By L.C. Schäfer2 years ago in Fiction
Anybody Loves You
Claire sat by the window, tracing the rain tracing delicate paths on the glass. The world outside seemed gray and far away, much how she'd been feeling lately. Everyone around her seemed to have someone- friends, family, or a partner-whom they could rely on, laugh with, and share their day with. Claire, however, was invisible. She believed she's forgotten in the world.
By Usman Zafar2 years ago in Fiction
Chapter Two: A Reluctant Alliance (Shadows of Orion)
Out of the Woods Maya’s rental car was a beat-up sedan that seemed one pothole away from collapsing entirely. Sam tossed his duffel into the backseat and slid into the passenger seat, eyeing the dashboard covered in empty coffee cups and candy wrappers.
By Marveline Merab2 years ago in Fiction
The Clockwork Phoenix
The village of Ironridge was a place of perpetual clatter and hum, its air thick with the scent of molten metal and grease. Nestled at the base of a mountain rich with ore, it was home to master smiths, inventors, and tinkerers, each striving to create marvels of clockwork and steam.
By Timi mayowa2 years ago in Fiction
Chronicles of the Eternal Compass
The workshop smelled of oil and brass, the air heavy with the soft ticking of dozens of clocks. Elias Farrow, a meticulous clockmaker, sat hunched over his workbench, his fingers deftly assembling the delicate gears of a pocket watch. He had inherited this craft from his father, who had inherited it from his father before him, and so on, stretching back through generations.
By Timi mayowa2 years ago in Fiction
