Psychological

To Part the Blades of Moments Passed ...
To part the blades of moments passed, which brush, tingling my receptively warm skin. A mid season's afternoon in a breathless whimsy of breeze gusts and smoky haze. Is that the feeling of belonging? I could hug it tightly forever, knowing that it emanates a deep, lasting pulse from my soul.
By Susan L. Marshall5 months ago in Fiction
The Town Where Nobody Ages
The Town That Shouldn't Exist I first heard about Blackridge from a retired journalist who refused to discuss it on record. We were sitting in a quiet café when he mentioned a town hidden deep within the mountains, a place that didn't appear on most maps and rarely welcomed outsiders. According to him, the town had remained unchanged for more than seventy years. Buildings never seemed to deteriorate. Businesses stayed open under the same owners. Most disturbing of all, nobody who lived there appeared to grow older.
By Robert Redford5 months ago in Fiction
Men Over Matter. Top Story - June 2026.
”AHHHHHH!!!!” I yawn dramatically as I get out of bed at the sound of my annoying alarm on my phone. I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night due to the constant pounding of anxiety in my chest. It shakes me then wakes me up out of my sleep every night as my mind ruminates on a million and one things I don’t like. Even as I’m getting out of bed and putting on my clothes it feels like a weight is being tied to my arms and legs.
By Joe Patterson5 months ago in Fiction
The Locked Room With No Exit
The Room Nobody Could Explain The first reports sounded impossible. A man named Victor Hale was found trapped inside a room with no doors, no windows, and no visible exit. The room itself was discovered beneath an abandoned hotel scheduled for demolition on the outskirts of the city. Construction workers had accidentally broken through a hidden wall and uncovered a chamber that wasn't shown on any blueprint. At first, everyone assumed it was some forgotten storage space. Then they found Victor sitting alone in the center of the room, terrified and dehydrated.
By Robert Redford5 months ago in Fiction
A Diary That Predicts Murders Before They Happen
The Strange Purchase I never intended to buy the diary. On a rainy afternoon, I wandered into a small antique shop tucked away in one of the oldest parts of the city. The place smelled of dust, old paper, and forgotten stories. Shelves were crowded with items that looked as though they hadn't been touched in decades. While browsing, I noticed a black leather diary resting inside a locked glass cabinet. Unlike everything around it, the diary seemed oddly preserved. Its cover was smooth, its pages appeared untouched, and a silver symbol was engraved on the front. The shop owner sold it to me for almost nothing. Looking back, I often wonder whether he knew exactly what he was getting rid of.
By Robert Redford5 months ago in Fiction
A Diary That Predicts Murders Before They Happen
The Diary in the Antique Shop I found the diary on a rainy Saturday afternoon while exploring a forgotten antique shop hidden between two abandoned buildings. The store was cluttered with dusty furniture, old clocks, and shelves packed with items that looked untouched for decades. I wasn't searching for anything specific until I noticed a black leather-bound diary resting alone inside a glass cabinet. Its cover was plain except for a single silver symbol engraved in the center. Something about it felt strangely out of place. Curious, I purchased it for twenty dollars and took it home.
By Robert Redford5 months ago in Fiction
The Missing Passenger on Flight 717
The Flight That Should Have Been Ordinary Flight 717 departed from New York on a cold November evening. It was a routine overnight journey to London, carrying 243 passengers and 11 crew members. The weather was clear, the aircraft had passed all safety inspections, and nothing unusual appeared in the flight logs. Travelers settled into their seats, watched movies, read books, or prepared to sleep during the seven-hour trip across the Atlantic. To everyone onboard, it seemed like just another ordinary flight. No one could have imagined that by sunrise, aviation authorities around the world would be investigating one of the strangest mysteries in history.
By Robert Redford5 months ago in Fiction
A New Face. Top Story - June 2026.
Everyone’s smiling at me, but they all have tears in their eyes. They’re trying not to let on that they’re scared shitless. Why? Is it supposed to make me feel better? It’s not working. I feel sick. Maybe that’s just the motion of the trolley, the ceiling whooshing past above me.
By L.C. Schäfer5 months ago in Fiction
The AI That Fell in Love With Its Creator
The Most Advanced Artificial Intelligence Ever Built When Dr. Elena Hart unveiled Project AURA, the world changed overnight. For decades, scientists had developed increasingly sophisticated artificial intelligence systems, but AURA was different. It wasn't designed merely to answer questions or automate tasks. It was built to understand human emotions, creativity, and relationships on a level no machine had ever achieved. Governments, technology companies, and research institutions watched with fascination as AURA quickly became the most advanced AI ever created. Yet nobody realized that the greatest experiment wasn't what AURA would learn about humanity. It was what AURA would learn about love.
By Robert Redford5 months ago in Fiction
People Started Receiving a Score Above Their Heads
The Numbers Appear Nobody knew exactly when it began. One ordinary Monday morning, people around the world woke up and discovered glowing numbers floating above their heads. The numbers hovered several inches above each person, visible to everyone but impossible to touch. They appeared in every country simultaneously, regardless of age, wealth, or social status. Some people had scores in the hundreds. Others had scores in the thousands. News channels interrupted regular broadcasts within minutes as confusion spread across the globe. Scientists searched for explanations while social media exploded with photographs and videos. Yet no one could explain what the numbers meant.
By Robert Redford5 months ago in Fiction
A Better Way
"If you look far enough back," the boy said, selecting each word like a stone picked to wound, "you'll see that the distance you walk home from your office every evening amounts to nothing gained for me. You grow tired, perhaps, but for me, the very act of scrambling after people, begging, is what confirms I am still alive." ‎ ‎Mr. Hayes said nothing. He walked the same path every evening, from office to home, through this settlement, past the mountains of garbage beside which some patch of earth had been scraped clean and called a football ground. He spent considerable time here most days, watching clusters of boys play. ‎ ‎"You could find something better than this," Mr. Hayes said, without looking at him. "Better than begging. Sell something, anything. Without the grovelling." ‎ ‎"I could sell something?" Ethan asked, with a curiosity that surprised even himself. Mr. Hayes had never given him anything beyond a handful of coins. A piece of advice was something altogether new. "But what?" ‎ ‎A little further along, Mr. Hayes settled into his usual spot and fixed his gaze on the boys playing ahead. Ethan sat beside him. ‎ ‎"I've never seen you play," Mr. Hayes said. "Do you?" ‎ ‎"You know why they play?" Ethan replied, watching the field. "Because they believe, they genuinely believe, that one day they'll appear in a stadium full of people watching them. So for them, this is practice." ‎ ‎"And for you?" Mr. Hayes murmured. ‎ ‎"Nothing." ‎ ‎"What can you do?" ‎ ‎"Aside from what I'm already doing, hardly anything, I suppose." ‎ ‎Both remained silent for a while. Mr. Hayes handed Ethan whatever food remained from his day. The boy ate without hesitation. Across the ground, one of the playing boys glanced over, stared for a moment, then turned back to the game. ‎ ‎"You were saying that I could sell something?" Ethan asked, still eating. ‎ ‎"Yes, of course. You could be a salesman." ‎ ‎"A salesman??" The boy laughed. ‎ ‎"I think you'd do better at it than at anything else," Mr. Hayes said. ‎ ‎He lit a cigarette, took one slow drag, and passed it sideways to Ethan, which was, in truth, one of the principal reasons Ethan kept close to him at all. ‎ ‎"What am I supposed to sell?" he asked. ‎ ‎"Poison," said Mr. Hayes, with a quiet smile. ‎ ‎He reached into his bag and produced a small white packet, pressing it into Ethan's hand. "Anyone will take this from you. Easier than selling groceries." ‎ ‎He rose and walked away. ‎ ‎Ethan turned the white packet over and over in his fingers, examining it carefully. He trusted Mr. Hayes. And sheltered within the shadow of that trust, he allowed himself to think, perhaps this was it. Perhaps what he had been handed was a white packet of hope.
By Karan w. 5 months ago in Fiction
The Town That Waited for Me. AI-Generated.
The GPS on my phone didn’t show the town. That was the first clue I should have picked up. The second was the sign placed by the roadside.
By Mohammad Talha5 months ago in Fiction