Short Story
The Poison type
Latios sat at the kitchen table, the old wood creaking beneath his elbows as he leaned forward, staring at the remnants of dinner. The house was quiet except for the muffled sound of the television in the living room where his mother, Nidoqueen, sat absorbed in her nightly routine. Lately, that routine had become a ritual—hours spent poring over Jehovah’s Witness literature, watching sermons, and taking notes in her well-worn Bible. It was as if the woman who had raised him, the strong, independent mother he once knew, had slowly slipped away, replaced by someone he barely recognized.
By The Kind Quill2 years ago in Fiction
Dancing Through The Darkness
I always knew that when I grew up, I wanted to be a Prima ballerina. According to my mother the moment I learned to walk was the moment I learned to dance. It wasn’t long after that, that I was performing pirouettes and arabesques throughout our living room.
By Blue Dymond2 years ago in Fiction
The Silent March: A Stranger’s Quest for Redemption in the Himalayas. AI-Generated.
Remi stood at the edge of the Himalayas, unsure of why he came. His life was a mess, full of regrets and mistakes. The towering mountains, silent and strong, seemed like the only place where he might find peace. Maybe here, in this endless wilderness, he could finally escape the guilt that had followed him for years.
By Rajesh Dhiman (Rajesh)2 years ago in Fiction
Bad Motorcycalia. Content Warning.
Jack Johansson strolled into Jack Scarlatti's office. It was a stroll kind of day. New sun, old enough to not be that exciting anymore, summer well ensconced but not bothersome yet. A status-quo kind of day, an even keel, que sera sera kind of day. "Jack, buddy," said Jack, while Jack shuffled papers and held a phone cradled between his ear and shoulder.
By Jason Edwards2 years ago in Fiction
The Friend I Never Knew I Had Just Saved My Ass
Isn’t it funny how we sometimes overlook people in our lives, only to realize later that they’ve always had our back? That’s exactly what happened to me with a guy in my class named Jay. Up until recently, I hadn’t paid much attention to him. He’s one of those quiet types, always sitting in the back, rarely speaking up in class. If you asked me to describe him, I’d probably just say he was “weird” — but not in a bad way. He just didn’t talk much, and I didn’t either. It wasn’t that I had anything against him. It’s just that we didn’t interact, except for the casual good morning that I say to everyone.
By Real & Fiction Stories2 years ago in Fiction
Cougars, Tigers, and Milfs, Oh My. Content Warning.
Usually I run outside, but occasionally mom gets it into her head to go to the gym, but of course, she can't go by herself, so I'll go with her sometimes. I'm on a treadmill, with my iPod on. I don't like listening to music when I run, and when I'm outside, in the morning before the sun comes up, it's usually the right kind of quiet. But the gym insists on playing what passed for peppy music back in the nineties, and I can't stand it. So I made an hour long mp3 of white noise, and now it's blasting in my ears, erasing everything else.
By Jason Edwards2 years ago in Fiction
Analyzing Superfood Claims
Among them, goji berries called a “superfood” or “miracle fruit” have been considered to cure many diseases. Despite being very healthy, it’s important to cut through the hype and distinguish between what’s true about these products.
By Emily Chan - Life and love sharing2 years ago in Fiction
Number One Hit
It was a typical night in the career of the woman known to many as "IMAX," a pop diva whose talent and singing chops match her popularity. She had just given yet another performance in front of a huge crowd, performing four of her biggest hits and leaving to a big applause and chants of her name. All the while, IMAX tearfully waved to her immense adoring public, showing appreciation to her many fans.
By Clyde E. Dawkins2 years ago in Fiction
Burning for You
Even the very thought of this man had me in a smiling frenzy. The way his gorgeous emerald-green eyes crinkled as he would smile. Those luscious golden-brown curls that would always somehow manage to take shape, even in the windiest of days. He was my person, and I love to think that I was his as well. Although... It wasn't always like this. The day I first met Helm, I swore to God that I'd hate him forever. He drove me absolutely bananas just by doing something as simple as breathing too much. To this day, I still haven't a single clue as to why he'd drive me up the walls. Just that I couldn't even as much as glance as the man without feeling furious with him for whatever reason. He'd do as little as yawn while looking in my direction, and I'd have steam blowing out of my ears. Nowadays, he and I tend to laugh about it... cracking up jokes as we both would mock how much his tiny antics drove me crazy. Now, he'll tell me constantly how he used to do whatever he could to get my attention... an attempt that typically ended in failure due to my complete and utter annoyance with anything he'd do. Even today, he still tells me that he's just going to use those little stories to help motivate our child to never give up on what he wants in life.
By 'Lissa Stufflestreet2 years ago in Fiction
