Psychological
Last Call for the Class of 2026?
At 11:47 on a Thursday night, Daniel sat alone at the far end of a neighborhood bar, staring at his phone as if it might finally deliver the news he had been waiting for. Around him, the room was emptying. A couple finished their beers by the window. Someone at the bar ordered one last shot. The bartender wiped the counter and glanced at the clock.
By Anthony Chan3 months ago in Fiction
Cosmo
“Cosmo.. Your name is - Cosmo…” Dirty, viscous, sticky air. Sand flying in the wind. Everything seems yellow. Everything IS yellow. Is that the thought that you wanted to die with? Leaving you in the mirage of the melting asphalt, the further I go, the more of a memory you become. Real. Ever real. You’ve never been as real as you are now, being dead. Nebraska. Alaska. Nevada. Thrown everywhere by life. Never a home to come to, only a house. I found you in Reno, your head in the cloud, your mind electric from snow. A box of pills rattling in your purse, waiting to be used for the last time, in the room upstairs. Once and for all, end it. Identical mascara streaks on your cheeks like a personal camo, “pretending to be a regular girl, but not!”
By Salomé Saffiri3 months ago in Fiction
Test, Don't Test
Inspired by an interesting source: And I thank RMS for this Challenge: At least the weather was nice. Dr. Ally Sherman was happy that it was a beautiful day for the start of the study. The Institute of Psychological Media was glowing in the sun as she drove up and found her assigned spot. In her first week, they had explained what they were going to do with their grant money and support from other institutions and private companies. They were doing remarkable things with the human mind now, said Dr. Saleen. They can now project dreams during the REM state and we can actually use them to solve… Well, that was the problem. Ally looked down at the I.D. on her lanyard as she thought about the awkward pause that stood out from a very comfortable talk. What were they doing with this data? What was the Institute going to pursue in the future (the brochure and prospectus she studied that weekend were useless)? She said hello to the security staff that remained unsmiling as she passed down the hall. Why was she still thinking about that speech? It was going to be a long two weeks and she wanted to focus on the subjects. It was her big chance and every journal or magazine with an interest in science knew that this was going to be big.
By Kendall Defoe 3 months ago in Fiction
Burden
"You are a coward!" " A what!? " "You, all of you. Eldar or whatever you freaks call yourselves. Ha! I've met a smattering of you, and in human terms let me tell you that's a lot, each and every one is Corruption-bent. 'Do not suffer the orc to live,' is the proverb, isn't it? But you run at the first sign of-"
By Alexander McEvoy3 months ago in Fiction
Waiting For Those Words
Larry sat on a stool in the pub, staring out the window into the black darkness of the night. It had been raining hard. The pavement was dotted with puddles. He watched people try to dodge them as they scurried in case it started to rain again.
By Calvin London3 months ago in Fiction
Downstairs Without Oscar
They made a game of it, taking their girls downstairs to the basement where there were no windows. The father had games for the girls down there. On Friday nights, he would drink beer after work, playing records for them. The mother would join them sipping wine and talking to the girls as the father paced and drank his stout.
By Ernest Taulbee3 months ago in Fiction
Just a Taste Part 8. Content Warning.
Ch 8: Act Now, Think Later Dylan December 20th, 2024- South Carolina Woods- 8:12 PM The call ended abruptly as the woman screamed. Leaving my twisted imagination to run wild. Dark and mangled realities began forming within my mind to justify the scream and why it sounded like Isabella.
By Rain Dayze3 months ago in Fiction
Calling to the Wind. Runner-Up in Last Call Challenge.
It had been days since he had been missing. His friends had come back but he hadn't. She'd had her reservations about letting him go but her husband had said, "Don't worry! He's a sensible kid! He'll be fine!" and she'd heard the words and accepted them, although she hadn't believed them, not in the deep of her, in her womb where he had been conceived, in her maternal instinct. She'd been wary and it was that instinct which now prodded her with spasms of nerves that jerked her into guilt and reminded her that something was very wrong.
By Rachel Deeming3 months ago in Fiction
