Short Story
Overall Awkward Ordeal
Eliza frequented Cafe Brie often enough to be considered a regular—she practically lived in this coffee shop when not at home. She liked the ambiance and its ability to feed her busybody nature. Honestly, to her, people-watching counted as novel research. Her writing was bettered by realistic characters. Today, Eliza sat sipping her nonfat soy latte, brow furrowed. The man standing at the counter cut a familiar silhouette. His hair was deep red and messy, he had square shoulders, and his skin was slightly olive-toned. Indeed, she had met him or seen him somewhere before; everyone knew everyone in this little podunk town. Nothing more exciting happened than when Cafe Brie opened on the town square. It was difficult to tell without seeing his face; picking up her mug, she sipped her coffee and eavesdropped as he ordered a cafe moca– a reasonably standard order.
By S.N. Evans2 years ago in Fiction
The Day I Realized My Feelings Were Lying to Me
It was a blustery Wednesday evening, and I sat opposite my specialist, Emily, gazing at the outlined degrees on her wall as opposed to looking at her without flinching. I had been arriving at these meetings for quite a long time, yet today felt unique. There was an inquiry consuming in my chest that I couldn't exactly express.
By Hashimoto Tashis2 years ago in Fiction
The Psychic Prostitute and The Businessman's Amsterdam Hookup
Amsterdam is renowned for its brownies and its prostitutes. It’s one of those cities that doesn’t look down on the sex trade. When Johnny went to Amsterdam he planned on trying all the local cuisine, including the sampling of women.
By Jason Morton2 years ago in Fiction
Old Roads
Through biting winds and burning cold, a caravan forced its way along a snow-capped mountain road that had long been forgotten by the people living beneath its wake. For days they had been trying to pierce through the winter veil, looking unsuccessfully for shelter in a cave or rocky outcropping. Several members of the expedition had already succumbed to frostbite, their corpses turned black and stiff, left to be buried by the elements. Hope dwindled as the shrieking of the wind grew shriller, and devoid of options, some among them prayed vainly to gods long condemned to history.
By Kyle Ketterhagen2 years ago in Fiction
Recent Contacts. Content Warning.
I'm not a slut, ok? Until recently, I'd only had one sexual partner. I was with Ellis for six years. Summer is the best time to break up. If you're in your early twenties, anyway. I had one slutty summer, alright? It wasn't even that many guys. I could count them on the fingers of one hand. If the thumb's a finger. Then came Troy. I knew he wasn't the one but I did like him. I felt safe with him. We'd known each other ages. We got into some kinky stuff, group sex, that kind of thing. That pushed my count up a bit. Some sex-positive folks are probably bristling reading this, but it's relevant. Because, see, I now have the unenviable task of contacting all my sexual partners. It started last week. Yes, in bed, if you must know. We were having some problems. Not something I've ever said before. And to be clear, I don't mean it's happened and I didn't admit it. I mean, its never happened. I assumed those kinds of problems only affected losers and old people. People who had been married for hundreds of years. Not twenty-somethings who weren't even in a relationship, they were just hot for each other. Listen, I'll just come out and say it. He couldn't get it in.
By L.C. Schäfer2 years ago in Fiction
Empire Of The Clouds
Way up here, no one should fly. If you took flight…well… But he flew. God for the first time he flew! The rush of the wind tousled his greasy hair, uncombed since the flu took his mother after they could not afford a doctor. Afraid he would tumble to the ground so very far down, he gripped the cool metallic scales of his dragon. He had named the dragon John–it seemed a good enough name for a dragon. His mother told him once it was his grandad’s name, the one who lived in the old country far across the sea.
By Matthew J. Fromm2 years ago in Fiction
A Minor Incident at Parkwood and 45th . Content Warning.
The smell of laundry detergent and hot pork fried rice. Uncle Kris was stereotypical, Asian, and an asshole. He sat on his nephew's two-wheeler and stared at the house across the street. The sun had chased away any thoughts of clouds, shade, not sweating into his pit-stained v-neck undershirt. His jeans were thin at the knees and in the ass, and clean enough to make him regret what he felt like doing.
By Jason Edwards2 years ago in Fiction
