Microfiction
Secrets Rising.... Content Warning.
Luke I'm spent. Carved out. My mouth feels dry and my teeth woolly. Rough. But sober, the bottle reflecting warm mahogany. This is emotional exhaustion but despite it, I feel a spark of gladness at being and it refills me with something. Hope?
By Rachel Deeming2 years ago in Fiction
To My Headless Stalker
Dear Headless Horseman, I have decided to write you this letter because every time we get within speaking distance you try and cut off my head. I know that the jack-o-lantern you carry with you as a replacement for your missing head has no functioning eyes so maybe you can talk one of your undead friends with working eyes to read it to you. This is my last attempt at a peaceful resolution, so I hope it works.
By Mark Gagnon2 years ago in Fiction
Recent Contacts. Content Warning.
I'm not a slut, ok? Until recently, I'd only had one sexual partner. I was with Ellis for six years. Summer is the best time to break up. If you're in your early twenties, anyway. I had one slutty summer, alright? It wasn't even that many guys. I could count them on the fingers of one hand. If the thumb's a finger. Then came Troy. I knew he wasn't the one but I did like him. I felt safe with him. We'd known each other ages. We got into some kinky stuff, group sex, that kind of thing. That pushed my count up a bit. Some sex-positive folks are probably bristling reading this, but it's relevant. Because, see, I now have the unenviable task of contacting all my sexual partners. It started last week. Yes, in bed, if you must know. We were having some problems. Not something I've ever said before. And to be clear, I don't mean it's happened and I didn't admit it. I mean, its never happened. I assumed those kinds of problems only affected losers and old people. People who had been married for hundreds of years. Not twenty-somethings who weren't even in a relationship, they were just hot for each other. Listen, I'll just come out and say it. He couldn't get it in.
By L.C. Schäfer2 years ago in Fiction
Hell's Doorstep. Content Warning.
She's asked me the question that I've dreaded. But we swore that day we'd never tell and I'm not starting now. The Scotch is peeping out of the bag and it takes all my nerve not to grab it. Instead, I suppress the urge to confess, to drink, to scream, as I've trained myself and I avert my eyes from hers, stare at my coffee and shake my head.
By Rachel Deeming2 years ago in Fiction
As The Snow Falls
It was a cold, quiet December morning as the snow fell and nature itself conspired to bury the truth, a blood-curdling scream pierced the serenity. The scream came after a simple argument that led to my wife storming out and stumbling into my study for the first time in years. She’d found my secret. I knew as I walked slowly to the doorway, she was slumped against the bookcase in shock. There was no escape from the inevitable. “Yes, darling. I’ve been testing pain thresholds—and now, it’s your turn,” I smiled, locked the door, and sealed her fate.
By Paul Stewart2 years ago in Fiction
Character Creation
Characters are the heart and soul of any story. They are the vessels through which readers experience the world, emotions, and conflicts of the narrative. Creating compelling and believable characters is an art that requires a blend of imagination, empathy, and technique. This article explores the essential elements of character creation and offers tips to bring fictional people to life.
By Sazeeb Chowdury2 years ago in Fiction
Dream Milk
The very famous writer descended the groaning wooden steps to his basement. He was wealthy enough that he could've had a sleek new staircase fitted ten times over, and not noticed the cost. He felt the ominous squeaking really lent to the ambience, though.
By L.C. Schäfer2 years ago in Fiction
