Psychological
The Last Dream Seller
In a town where night had lost its magic and the streets were silent, a peculiar shop stood between an old bakery and a shuttered bookstore. Its windows were misted with silver dust, and the faded sign read: Dreams for Sale. Most of the townsfolk passed by without a second glance, thinking it abandoned. But inside, under the dim glow of lanterns, a man worked quietly, arranging tiny glass bottles filled with sparkling mist.
By Muhammad Kashif about a year ago in Fiction
Halloween House Party (5). Content Warning.
Chapter 5: “Officers, I think there’s been some sort of mistake here.” I try to reason with them, my hands firmly up in surrender not wanting to add getting shot to my list of unfortunate fucking circumstances tonight.
By 𝓗. 𝓒. 𝓡𝓾𝓫𝔂about a year ago in Fiction
“Flash Fiction Fridays”
Flash Fiction Fridays By [Ali Rehman] Every Friday evening, like clockwork, the small community of writers gathered online for “Flash Fiction Fridays.” It was a tradition born from a shared love of bite-sized stories — short tales packed with emotion, surprise, and meaning, each no longer than a few hundred words but heavy with impact.
By Ali Rehmanabout a year ago in Fiction
“Voices of the Creators”
Voices of the Creators By [Ali Rehman] In a small, sunlit café tucked away from the noisy streets of the city, a group of creators gathered once a month to share their stories — the stories behind their stories, the voices that shaped their art. They called it the “Voices of the Creators” series: intimate conversations that brought light to the hidden moments, the doubts, and the triumphs of those who create.
By Ali Rehmanabout a year ago in Fiction
“Whispers of the Unknown”
Whispers of the Unknown By [Ali Rehman] The village of Eldermoor sat at the edge of the world — or at least, that’s what the locals believed. Nestled between misty woods and an endless stretch of twilight sky, it was a place forgotten by time, where strange things whispered on the wind and shadows danced just beyond sight.
By Ali Rehmanabout a year ago in Fiction
Halloween House Party (4). Content Warning.
Chapter 4: “What did she just say” I whisper to myself, her words haunting and ringing through my ears. “She said Sly’s dead? Who’s Sly?” My girl looks up at me with curiosity and none of the fear that’s draining all the blood from face.
By 𝓗. 𝓒. 𝓡𝓾𝓫𝔂about a year ago in Fiction
Miss Havisham's Bathroom. Winner in The Forgotten Room Challenge.
Fran had been told she couldn’t really call herself a stand-up if she hadn’t done The Black Lake Pub gig. So, she had signed up and agreed to a car share. Twenty minutes from Manchester and fifty years back in time, in daylight the area might have been called stone-built picturesque. On a February evening, with an empty field to the left and the dark waters to the right, it was Gothic isolation.
By Rachel Robbinsabout a year ago in Fiction
