Short Story
A Misguide From Desperation
Inspo: A broken pocket watch leads a man to a cabin. The dim moonlight scattered through the giants’ arms and onto the misshaped path below. Howling was carried through the embrace of the wind, filtering out to tickle the weary hearts trying to lurk through the darkness. Eyes so bright blink out and close in periodically, scour the forest floor for the unsuspecting prey to come along. Big or small, tall or short. Hardened or soft. Either way, their extremities were always ready to ensnare with lightning speed.
By Sapphire D.B Boa2 years ago in Fiction
Honk and Hop: A Darkly Funny Friendship
Gerald, the goose, was no ordinary pond dweller. He was a sarcastic millennial with a penchant for dry wit and a honk that could cut through anyone’s ego. By day, he patrolled the pond with his feathered chest puffed out, claiming to “keep the riffraff in check.” By night, he drowned his existential dread in overpriced organic bread from the park’s food truck.
By The Kind Quill2 years ago in Fiction
The Guardian's Chronicle. AI-Generated.
Sarah Matthews hadn't expected to find anything interesting while clearing out her late uncle James's attic. He had been a quiet man who worked as an accountant in London, living alone in his Victorian townhouse until his passing last month. But behind a false wall panel, she discovered a leather-bound diary that would change everything she thought she knew about her seemingly ordinary uncle.
By Shane D. Spear2 years ago in Fiction
Bound in Blood. AI-Generated.
Sarah Matthews had always found peace in libraries, but there was something different about this one. The Cambridge University Old Library's Gothic architecture loomed against the twilight sky, its spires piercing the gathering darkness like ancient spears. As the newly appointed Head Archivist of Special Collections, she had the keys to every room, including the forbidden Restricted Section that hadn't been opened to the public in over a century.
By Shane D. Spear2 years ago in Fiction
The Space Between. AI-Generated.
Sarah Matthews stared at the strange equations that had appeared in her notebook overnight. This was the third time this week she'd found complex mathematical formulas written in handwriting that wasn't her own, yet somehow felt familiar. The equations were elegant, beautiful even, describing what appeared to be quantum mechanics far beyond current understanding.
By Shane D. Spear2 years ago in Fiction
Babygirl
It’s not perfect, but it’s better than what we grew up with. That’s what Mama says. When she tells me about her childhood, it doesn’t sound so bad. That’s always when Daddy comes in shaking his head. He tells me, “That’s just because you’re not old enough to hear the rest yet, babygirl.”
By sleepy drafts2 years ago in Fiction
The Deep Below. AI-Generated.
Sarah Matthews adjusted the straps of her diving apparatus, double-checking the pressure gauges on her reinforced copper helmet. The brass and leather diving suit felt heavy on the deck of the research vessel, but she knew it would become nearly weightless once she descended into the depths of the Mediterranean.
By Shane D. Spear2 years ago in Fiction
The Resonant Strings
Sarah's fingers trembled as she traced the intricate carvings on the instrument's surface. The antique shop's dim lighting cast dancing shadows across its weathered wood, making the strange symbols seem to shift and writhe beneath her touch. It wasn't quite a violin, nor exactly a lyre – its form seemed to defy categorization, as if it had been crafted by someone who had dreamed of an instrument rather than actually seen one.
By Shane D. Spear2 years ago in Fiction
