Stream of Consciousness

The Dream Between Us
For a long moment, Lydia did not move. The world beyond the stone wall felt impossibly still. Not silent. Still. As if everything around her had paused to notice that she had arrived.
By Amber6 months ago in Fiction
The Dream Between Us
Clay did not come back the next day. At first, Lydia told herself not to worry. He had vanished before. That was simply what he did.
By Amber6 months ago in Fiction
The Dream Between Us
Lydia did not sleep. Not that night. Not really. The hours moved strangely, slipping past in fragments she could not quite hold onto. One moment she was sitting at the window with the daisy still clutched in her hand, moonlight spilling silver across her floorboards. The next, dawn had already begun to soften the horizon in pale shades of blue and rose.
By Amber6 months ago in Fiction
The Dream Between Us
Lydia first saw him on a Tuesday that felt like a Thursday. The air had that strange golden softness to it, as though the whole town had been dipped in honey and left to gleam beneath the afternoon sun. Children ran laughing through the square, their voices rising and falling like birdsong. A woman at the fruit stand stacked pears into a pyramid with careful hands. Somewhere nearby, music drifted lazily from an open window… something light and old-fashioned played on a piano that Lydia could not see.
By Amber6 months ago in Fiction
I Woke Up and No One Knew Who I Was
It started with my coffee order. “Name?” the barista asked, smiling politely. “Daniel,” I said, like I had a thousand times before.
By Noman Khan6 months ago in Fiction
Are The Kids Going to be Okay?
She made our lives a living hell. Every day was fresh chaos, based on the level of her dysregulated nervous system. Most days, it wasn’t good, so she would thrust her fabricated drama upon a home of otherwise peace-loving, drama-free residents. Two of whom were merely children, not even in their teen years yet, but quickly approaching.
By Jesse Lee6 months ago in Fiction
Seizure . Content Warning.
In the club where the cleaners work smashing out shifts with massive arms and are routinely flirted with. The punters take the mops and girate with them. They take bags of substances off the ground and have to throw them out. They find all sorts of stuff in the toilet - a colonoscopy bag and prostitution going on. After cleaning 20 vomits for the night. The girl with the mod haircut who they see with dozens of men. Brushing past. The violence after a drink - the severe look in the eyes as another punch is thrown. The music rattling round - panic sets in as another toilet smoking incident evacuates the club. The people come back and the place rocks again. Some people stay all night, the sun rising in the summer times. The gangs and fighters parade around and the punches are thrown - when the blood splurts out from a punch on someone’s nose. The cleaner has to go through the dance floor and there is a writhing body, one cleaner has to yell out “get a cardboard box and run!” The cardboard box is used to keep the leg straight of the broken leg. The guards take the body and nothing is known. The body of another person writhing - the whole place is shut down and the guards hold back the crowd as the pulse of the music churns the crowd on. They keep dancing - breaking the ice on the ground from their drinks resembling a swamp. The man is never seen again. The one time there is a pile on for minutes and no guards break it up.
By Karl McBeath6 months ago in Fiction
Again
Every week, the man went to work, then church, then home again. Month after month. Year after year. Routine ruled his life.
By Victor Eaves6 months ago in Fiction
She Said, "This Will Not End Well"
The Prompt: Write a story that does not end well and allows the consequences to stand. Stan said, "We need a pickup. We have a trailer to pull, and hay bales to haul, and lumber to buy. "
By Denise E Lindquist6 months ago in Fiction
The Weight of Winning. AI-Generated.
The courtroom had an energy that day he could not explain, something heavier than tension, something that settled quietly in the chest and stayed there. He had walked into rooms like this for years, always prepared, always certain of what needed to be done, but this time felt different in a way he could not shake. It was not the case itself, not the complexity or the attention it had gathered, but the simple fact that he already knew how it would end and what it would cost him. Long before the trial reached its final moments, the truth had already been revealed to him in a way that did not require evidence or argument. It came in a quiet exchange, a moment that should have stayed hidden but instead followed him into every thought, every decision, every word he spoke afterward.
By Muhammad Abbas khan6 months ago in Fiction
Facets
The rotunda had no need for torches, such was the power of the light reflected off the crystal atop the Plinth at the rotunda’s center. Even Vistruvian’s shadow as he passed between the crystal and the bands of light coming down from the lantern windows did nothing to diminish the crystal’s aura.
By Matthew J. Fromm6 months ago in Fiction
Midnight Bus
The bus doors opened with a long metallic sigh, even though no one had pressed the stop button. For a moment, I stood on the empty sidewalk wondering if I had imagined it. The streetlights flickered softly above me, and the road stretched into darkness like an unanswered question. I had been waiting for nearly thirty minutes, and the city around me had already fallen asleep.
By Vocal Member 6 months ago in Fiction