Love
Future Disguise
How does a dream that’s interpreted as a miracle become a nightmare in reality? A question that Ruemaq had in mind when his eyes shot wide open. His skin was extremely slippery and the bed allowed his body to crease itself into a puddle. Ruemaq rested his hand on his forehead. “What is up with the heat today?!”
By Devond Devoeabout 4 hours ago in Fiction
She Flew Away
Every spring there I have a visitor. She has a long slim neck, sharp facial features decorated with the softest edges you'll ever see, and she's a terrible singer. Though each summer, once she's gone, I do ache in the silence. For the most part she wanders the back edge of my too-large for me property, every now and then I take my morning walk a little too close and she lectures me and moves back farther.
By K.L. Graceabout 15 hours ago in Fiction
Mordent's Lament
Chapter One Part I: The Season The bleachers at Cedar Valley High smell like popcorn, cut grass, and the particular kind of nervous energy that only exists before a Friday night game. Matthew Sullivan—Sully to everyone—sits on the low wall by the locker room doors, under the bleachers, helmet balanced on his knee, watching Ethan Riley try to fix his own shoulder pads for the third time in what has become a pregame ritual for the two.
By Matias Costaabout 23 hours ago in Fiction
Bloodberry
Bloodberry The red berries stay frozen on the black brier, untouched by frost. The villagers do not need them anymore as they wear tiny four-leaved yellow blossoms in their hair instead. You watch your skin stretch thin and turn translucent over your collarbone. A wet, yellow bud tears through your flesh with a sickening pop. You pull the stem, but your lung lining peels upward with the root; fibrous yellow threads are already braiding themselves through your pectoral muscles. Green shoots force their way up your oesophagus. You cannot scream; your throat is packed with wet, writhing tendrils. Pale sap leaks from your tear ducts as your eyeballs swell under the pressure, golden petals erupt through your ear canals, deafening you with the sound of tearing cartilage.
By Alyson Smith 3 days ago in Fiction
The October Vortex. Content Warning.
Dreams are doorways, and tonight one opens in the middle of Beaver Pond. October shouldn’t have sounded like this. Beaver Pond buzzed with cicadas — that thick, electric hum that only happened on the hottest days of summer. Crickets layered beneath them, frantic and constant, like the forest was vibrating. The air hung heavy, wet, pressing against Sara’s skin like a fever.
By Syl De'Vil3 days ago in Fiction
Pernicious With A Purpose
“Olawdry, are you coming to bed yet?” Mairlz called from the bedroom. Olawdry was staring at himself in the mirror pulling down the bags underneath his red eyes. “Yes, sweetie. I’m coming.” He responded tiresome. He hit the light switch, shut the door behind him, and walked over to his side of bed where he could see the moonlight outside the window.
By Devond Devoe4 days ago in Fiction
Gork and Slarb...Forever?
Gitfangula is a very strange place. As a planet, orbiting between the ancient worlds of Marnus and Minuous, it lives in a particular harmony with its past that many other planets and galaxies would envy and resent…if they ever managed to find it. The thing is…Gitfangula cannot be found by conventional ships that rely on anything besides timegates. This is one of the reasons why Gitfangula has been so peaceful for such a long time. The only conflicts come from within. All citizens of that orb have an instant psychic connection and can immediately detect when things do not seem stable, or if there happens to be a disturbance near one of their portals. But, since these types of disturbances were so rare, no citizen of Gitfangula ever worried about such things. It was clear that any problem within the nation and planetoids nearby were internal. No one could be blamed for the problems they faced in their relationships, their homes, their working lives…
By Kendall Defoe 4 days ago in Fiction
A Breeze I Wish To Forget
The pictures upheld itself to Natajra’s standard as the driver cruises through the city. The skies were pretty, it wasn’t too hot or too cold outside, and the garden and palms trees were absolutely beautiful. Natajra pinched herself wondering if she was in heaven. “Ouch!” She whispered to herself as she rubs the tiny pain away.
By Devond Devoe4 days ago in Fiction
