Psychological
The Pumpkin Patch
Who remembers going to a pumpkin patch to find a great pumpkin? Not the one Linus is hoping for. This pumpkin patch is one place of many stories of memories of fun and family. One would get in the car, and it seems for miles but really is not that far. We hopped out of the car and just started running for we knew that sometimes there would be treats hidden around these pumpkins just like those Easter egg hunts in the Spring, but at times the farmer would only have selected few and just settle for the perfect pumpkin.
By Mark Graham4 days ago in Fiction
You Shouldn't Be Here
You tell yourself you’re only looking for quiet. The dinner party is too loud, too bright, too full of people who seem to know exactly where to stand and how to laugh. You’ve been drifting from room to room like a misplaced coat, never quite settling. So, when you slip down the hallway and try a door that looks unassuming—plain white paint, a brass knob worn dull—you tell yourself it’s harmless.
By Christina Pozzie4 days ago in Fiction
The Whole World is Watching. Top Story - October 2026.
There you are. Yes, you with your Converse that never go out of style. Your hair that falls like a wedding veil you never got to wear around your face, shielding innocence that never existed. The blue light penetrates your glasses, as if your eyes are revealing a relationship with modern technology that should remain private. You sit, listening to the wheezing sounds your dad makes. A medically induced coma is what the doctor called it when he explained the situation to you, along with the expensive details of the procedures he would need to save his life.
By L.M. Marlin4 days ago in Fiction
The Place That Remembers
Every threshold keeps the shape of the hand that opened it. "For years afterward, you told yourself memory had embellished her. Then you told yourself age had softened the impossible into metaphor. Later still, you stopped explaining her at all."
By Rebecca A Hyde Gonzales4 days ago in Fiction
Two Birds
You see there were these two birds who were flying around the sky looking for just the perfect place to light. They saw trees of varying heights and well as bushes that were way too small. They saw this batch of flowers in a bush high on a hill. The soared above this area several times just to make sure no other animals had claimed it. No one has claimed this spot of multi-colored flowers that seem to match their colorings as well. They have found their Home Sweet Home and swooped down to make their claim to living together.
By Mark Graham5 days ago in Fiction
A Trail
There I was walking along as well as kind of being pushed along by some entity. I felt something the moment I entered that path and it seemed to be leading me somewhere yet nowhere. It was cold to warm to hot to warm to cold and then to very cold to almost freezing. I just continued to walk, and it seemed that this entity just wanted some company for a while for it led me to the gates that I entered through what seemed like hours ago but was only about an hour since I came here. Happy Halloween!
By Mark Graham5 days ago in Fiction
You Knew
You weren't supposed to touch it. They told you repeatedly. You knew. You couldn't control your own impulse. You just had to see what all the fuss was about and look where it got you. Where did it get you? You don't even know where "here" is. You do know it's cold, dark, damp. The silence is stifling. No birds. No wind. Nothing. Your feet are bare and your clothes are thin cotton. The chill makes you shiver uncontrollably.
By Julie Lacksonen5 days ago in Fiction
Nothing To Lose Part 11
In the middle of the night, two very unexpected visitors will throw Jonas two very different kinds of loops. Part 11 He woke up in bed but felt like he hadn't rested at all. The sound of heavy trucks moving through the area brought him to his feet. Jonas pulled the curtain aside. They were military transport and a flatbed, and then another. Their heavy engines roared as the drivers pushed through the flooded streets, sending waves after waves of storm runoff into the yards and driveways. He could see the waters were now near two feet high. Jonas wondered when the rain was going to stop.
By Jason Morton5 days ago in Fiction
The Arbarist
I tiptoed up the stairs, moving over the middle step that often creaked. No one needed to know I had been down here or out of bed at all. I carefully twisted the handle to the bedroom and slipped inside, noiselessly shutting it behind me. My wife moaned lightly and flopped over on the bed. She was facing me now, and her arm was outstretched over my side. I sighed deeply. She didn’t move. She didn’t wake up enough to notice I wasn’t in bed with her. I took several steps towards the bed and did my best to crawl inside without touching her. Once stable, I adjusted and pulled her arm over me, lightly. Again, she did not wake up.
By Leah Suzanne Dewey5 days ago in Fiction
