Microfiction
An Honest Question
My hand on her arm steadies her but I could do with some support myself. I can't just leave her here and so, we pay for our shopping and then, with my arm around her shoulder, I take her to the café for a coffee. She's looking less spectral now but she feels small to me. It makes me feel sad. Life has sucked what it can out of her but she's still battling.
By Rachel Deeming2 years ago in Fiction
The Great Giggly Adventure
Once upon a time in the whimsical town of Quirkville, where gravity sometimes took a holiday and cats held weekly meetings to discuss the meaning of life, there lived a curious young girl named Lily. Lily was no ordinary girl; she had a knack for getting into the most peculiar predicaments, often involving her talking pet parrot, Sir Squawksalot.
By Babar khan2 years ago in Fiction
Whistleblower
Once upon a time, very recently actually, a writer got an idea for a silly story. Being of a rather snobbish frame of mind that day, she decided not to write it. Oh, no, she thought, conveniently disregarding the multiple times she'd written stories about bottoms and whatnot, such a tale is far beneath me... But I wonder what AI will make of it? Feeling a little dirty, she opened up an Al tool, and typed the key elements of the story into it. It's about an actor. Very famous; a household name. He's maintained youthful looks through a combination of strict diet and exercise, satanic rituals, and a meticulous skincare regime. The latter included a range of expensive serums, a regular sheep placenta facial appointment on Tuesday afternoons, and bathing in a (ahem) "special substance".
By L.C. Schäfer2 years ago in Fiction
Language, Brain and Behavior
I'm sitting in a class on Brain and Behavior at my college between two of my own courses I teach on MWF. It's tiring but fascinating. As a doctoral student in 2005, I took a course in Perception and Sensation that covered a lot of brain functions relating to speech and language, but a lot has been discovered since then due to various imaging technologies used to study the brain. So I'm basically catching up.
By Lana V Lynx2 years ago in Fiction
Sandman
He steps slowly, firmly. Bringing the cold dust of dreams on the pads of his paws, his magic beans. He circles, and settles, and something settles with him. Is it the drifting scent of starlight on his whiskers? Her breath softens, becomes silky like his fur, and the tips of his regal, pointed ears. Some call him Sandman. Or Rama, King of Dreams. But you can't call him, or own him, or dictate where he should go or where he should sleep. Sometimes, he holds his paw to her throat; a gentle dagger. He listens to the pulse and rhythm of her. If it marches too hasty-like, he has the knack of bringing it under control, more subtle than a skilled horseman on a testy nag. First, he matches it with his purr. Then he alters the vibration and brings her with him. To a new, better dream. A smile curves across her lips, and he blinks slowly (once, twice) to seal the spell. There: isn't she beautiful in her slumber? She stretches, catlike herself. Whatever she is living right now inside her head is real-ly delicious.
By L.C. Schäfer2 years ago in Fiction
The Black Kaleidoscope (Origins). Content Warning.
This is a conclusion to the story here but can be read as a stand-alone piece: The Black Kaleidoscope (Origins) The Sisterhood of Witches had destroyed the Black Kaleidoscope but kept a little of it to track down its creator whose name had been given to them as part of the freedom pact that they agreed with the imprisoned Demon. The dark wizard was called "Toymaker" and his penchant was to create haunted toys to steal the souls of those who came into contact, which were usually children.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 2 years ago in Fiction
