Psychological

August break
The woman picks the bottle of all-purpose cleaner out of the cupboard. It’s the cheap type, bubble gum pink, industrial fragrance burning through the lungs. She pours some into a bucket filled with water, before reaching for a towel lying on the top cupboard, the bucket in her other hand. It’s the middle of August, it’s warm, the air is thick and sticky. There’s no air conditioning but an old ceiling fan that makes a tedious sound. It wants you to know it’s working hard to cool down the room. A child is crawling at the woman's feet, trying to undo the laces of her sneakers. She realizes that she forgot to bring a stool to put the bucket on while scrubbing. Without a stool she needs to put the bucket on the floor and then surely the boy will knock it over. She has to go back to the kitchen, all while holding the bucket and with one child glued to her ankle. That too, is tedious.
By Eihkin2 months ago in Fiction
The Neighborhood Watch Asked Me to Join
The Neighborhood Watch Asked Me to Join Apparently enthusiasm can be misinterpreted. They asked because I was observant. That was the word Susan used.
By Jesse L Shelley2 months ago in Fiction
Revolting . Top Story - September 2026.
The sentries stood tall with scaly, dry bark. The water ran brown and backward. Ripples resembled clouds of brains regressing under the bright light of the undead sun.
By Caitlin Charlton2 months ago in Fiction
I Began Writing Notes During Meetings Without Looking Down
I started taking notes during meetings without looking at the page. It was easier than it sounds. Keep the pen moving. Nod occasionally. Maintain eye contact with whoever was speaking.
By Jesse L Shelley2 months ago in Fiction
Are You Listening
“Sam. Are you listening? We don’t have much…” Bryan Egar King was born on June 5, 1912. He was the oldest son of Melvin and Margaret Towns. Although the family name was Towns, his parents gave their firstborn son the last name King, hoping that he would amount to great things. Four more children followed, each carrying the family name Towns.
By David E. Perry2 months ago in Fiction
Unseasonably Fine. Honorable Mention in Out of Season Challenge.
On the twenty-third of September, Melbourne reaches thirty-two degrees. I am in a cardigan, eating grated cheese from the bag.
By Iris Obscura2 months ago in Fiction
Skeletons in the Closet
You’ve been suspicious of Peter for several years now, the way his business trips have steadily increased from once a year to every six weeks. The way he seems almost renewed, refreshed after each absence, rather than pinched and tired like before. His new habit of returning with a piece of jewelry for you and a guilty look on his face. You’ve considered confronting him on the matter, but after fifteen years of marriage you aren’t sure you want to rock the boat, especially with the children to think about. Would it really make a difference if you knew the truth? Probably not, it’s not like it’s ever really been a marriage of true love. You aren’t ashamed to admit to yourself you married him for his construction company and decent income, not his personal charms.
By Angel Whelan2 months ago in Fiction
WINTERGLOOM: HOLLOWSGROVE COVEN
The rusting iron gears of the town square clock tower ground together, striking fifteen minutes to four. In Wallowshill, four o'clock wasn’t just for tea time; it signaled the start of twilight in the mainland—a warning Lindsay Newell had never once seen enacted before this year. In fact, it was a tradition she had mostly done in private, in the walls of her own home. Casting spells over fault-lines so witches could more easily traverse the Witching Worlds between Covens and veiled cities—cloaking cities, like this one.
By K.H. Obergfoll2 months ago in Fiction
The Stroke of Midnight 5
As I was standing there surrounded by these masks I thought to myself how did they go from their 'mask' room to the library. The masks all started to hum and what seemed to be like walking around me. At times they got really close and then move back. They did this for a few minutes and went back to the chairs and couch and sat eerily quiet. I tried to back away to the door, but I felt frozen to the floor. The masks that stood for Ying and Yang started to hum once again. I just stood there.
By Mark Graham2 months ago in Fiction
WINTERGLOOM
Christmas lights hung on the porch as most houses did in December—but, it was late August. The thick black wires were tacked gently onto my copper gutters. I didn’t mind the slight intrusion, they went well with the wind chimes and glass bottle suncatchers. Of course, other houses on the block look pristine with their manicured lawns and freshly painted siding, but they were empty shells. Cold, sterile frames made from generic wood and drywall. I was different. I breathed. I felt. I saw. I knew.
By K.H. Obergfoll2 months ago in Fiction
Just a Taste Part 15. Content Warning.
Ch 15: Curiosity Isabella December 21st, 2024- Woodside Motel- 3:02 AM My eyes popped open. The room was dark, except for the nearby kitchenette's night light. I felt warm and tired.
By Rain Dayze2 months ago in Fiction
A Bag of Tricks or Treats
Halloween night as all the children were out collecting their lute in the form of many different candies dressed from fun to scary to, I don't know what costumes I sat on my front porch ready to pass out the candy I bought for such an event such as this. What is scary is that all these children were marching down the street headed for my house. I gave good treats (full size), but as they got closer their eyes glowed. This is a trick I hope, but what did I do to deserve to be tricked on this night?
By Mark Graham2 months ago in Fiction