Psychological

Taker Waker
It was spring break during my junior year of college when my friends convinced me to spend it camping. The park they decided on was quite a drive, about 2hrs exact up north from our college. It was going to be surrounded by towering redwoods and a bit isolated from your normal state park. My friend Henry kept hyping me up and telling me that I won’t regret it this place is fantastic as he was the only one who has been there himself.
By Nomora Bautista4 months ago in Fiction
Stockholm obverse part 2
As Wayne stood in her gaze, he felt more exposed than he ever had before. Now that he was standing here in front of her, for the first time, she would be looking at him. Really looking at him. No more inconspicuous hiding now that she had seen his face.
By Iris Morales4 months ago in Fiction
DNR: Do Not Reply
“Jackie, what are you doing?” Jackie barely heard Amber’s question. She was buried in her phone. “ Jackie ,” Taylor’s insistent tone finally snapped her out of her trance.
By Ophelia Keane Braeden4 months ago in Fiction
Out of oblivion
" You don't exist ." "And yet, here I am." O ~ o ~ The first time I met him, I was working in London as a business reporter for the Financial Times . It was 1999. I had started to get all sorts of strange calls about the millennium bug, about the end of the world, the end of humanity and about climate change. This wasn't one of them. It was a regular call from one of my regular PR contacts. One of the more reliable PR firms in a business not noted for its reliability.
By Raymond G Taylor4 months ago in Fiction
In the Ring. Top Story - July 2026.
That was a damn strange fight. At least they went the ten rounds for it, but I wouldn’t have believed my own eyes if I did not sit at ringside and watch it all go down. Needed to have these notes as evidence for it, too.
By Kendall Defoe 4 months ago in Fiction
It Waited for my Final Page. Content Warning.
I have never given much thought to the concept of death or the act of dying. Death was a staple in my young life; it lingered in the darkness, never straying too far from the shadows. If I weren't aware of its presence, I’d forget it was there. Yet now and then, it allowed a more profound look than the sporadic glimpses I had grown accustomed to. It became an eye in the dark, a mischievous giggle in the air, or an icy touch on warm skin. I didn't understand why it made itself known to me, giving me nothing concrete, never making itself tangible, or giving me bits and pieces. It wasn’t until my grandmother died that an answer, one which came in five parts, began to shape itself.
By Ghostwife4 months ago in Fiction
to inherit the earth
She wept as she stood waving farewell to her son Jay Dee and his wife, the still and silent walls mutely observing the old woman’s grief as their car rounded the bend on the north side of the railroad trestle, the morning sun barely an hour above the eastern horizon facing her door. Gazing past the shadow beneath the bridge, past comings and goings crowded her thoughts, each burdened by the weight of time and memory, some moments inflated by the hope of joy while others could only be quietly endured.
By John Cox4 months ago in Fiction
The Things I Meant To Come Back To
My inbox was full. Not emotionally. Literally. Years of newsletters I’d never read. Shipping confirmations. Password resets. Coupons from stores I’d forgotten I’d ever shopped at. Google Photos had slowly turned into a massive, digital junk drawer. It was an attic of screenshots, receipts, duplicate pictures of my dogs, and memes I forgot were funny.
By Tifani Power 4 months ago in Fiction
"Am I Not Immortal?"
Author's note: On June 30, 2026, Vladimir Putin of Russia attended the funeral ceremony for Sergei Ivanov, Russian ex-Defense Minister and one of Putin's closest friends and allies. Putin spent about half an hour near the coffin. He was observed laying a cross on himself and moving his lips, as if in a prayer. As an experienced lip reader and occasional supernatural voice registrar, I have transcribed this conversation for you:
By Lana V Lynx5 months ago in Fiction
Bite the Hand 🐺
After supper, I scraped the still-warm entrails into a metal bowl, and took it out to feed the werewolf. It'd been over forty degrees again today. The temperature had hardly dropped since the sun went down. As a result the ground was bone-dry and packed hard. He'd have tried to dig his way out anyway, no matter how much his paws bled and his claws broke and tore. That is, if not for the Collar.
By L.C. Schäfer5 months ago in Fiction
The Mole She Never Had . Content Warning.
David’s thumb stopped just below my collarbone, pressing into the little hollow there, and then he said something strange. We were still naked. It was four in the morning, the rain had just stopped, and our bodies were still wrapped in a thin film of sweat, his and mine. His fingers traced down my ribs slowly, like he was reading Braille. When he reached the third rib on the left, he paused and pressed down hard. It wasn’t a caress—it was pressure, the way you press a button to check if it still works. Then he said, “You have a mole here. You didn’t have it before.”
By Jin5 months ago in Fiction
The Memory Sculptor
In the part of Oakhaven, where the air is really clean and the sunlight is directed to shine on the tall buildings at just the right time Julian Vane lives. He is not a businessman or a politician. He is a Sculptor.. Julian does not carve stone or make metal statues. He shapes memories.
By Zak5 months ago in Fiction