Stream of Consciousness
Our Last Call
I take the deepest breath of my life and settle my hands on the safety bar. My first time on the Moon and it's more than I could have ever hoped for. I came not for the craters. They're ten to the dozen here and always have a line. Nor to see if the Moon was actually made of cheese. Although, I'll admit I was a little curious. But seeing that man by the door of our shuttle spluttering over his handful of Moon dust quickly put an end to that question. 'It's just dirt!' apparently. No, I came for a break. A break from the pain. A break from Earth.
By Sarah O'Grady27 days ago in Fiction
The Illumination of The Grouch from Sesame Street. Top Story - September 2026.
Snuffleupagus was walking through the park singing to himself. Today was a big day. Big Bird had told him he was getting all of his friends together so that they could finally meet Snuffleupagus. They had tried before, of course, but something always happened. Someone was late. Snuffleupagus had to leave. Big Bird would turn around and suddenly no one could see him. But today was supposed to be the day, and Snuffleupagus was happy about it.
By Chase McQuade27 days ago in Fiction
The Rain and the Rainbow
The rain came down in sheets one early Sunday morning. It poured with a voracity I had never seen before in my life. I heard it pattering the roof, flood through the gutters and gurgle down pipes. The lawn outside was clogged with water. Only the top edges of the grass blades managed to stay above the rising water.
By Dean Traylor28 days ago in Fiction
Secrets, Roses and old Phones. . Top Story - August 2026.
I pulled up to the old family house with a heavy heart...so many memories came flooding back all at once. I shuddered as nostalgia washed over me and I was now regretting the decision to do this all on my own. But, I had kept telling myself that I needed the time to come to terms with all that had happened.
By Novel Allen30 days ago in Fiction
Cosmo
“Cosmo.. Your name is - Cosmo…” Dirty, viscous, sticky air. Sand flying in the wind. Everything seems yellow. Everything IS yellow. Is that the thought that you wanted to die with? Leaving you in the mirage of the melting asphalt, the further I go, the more of a memory you become. Real. Ever real. You’ve never been as real as you are now, being dead. Nebraska. Alaska. Nevada. Thrown everywhere by life. Never a home to come to, only a house. I found you in Reno, your head in the cloud, your mind electric from snow. A box of pills rattling in your purse, waiting to be used for the last time, in the room upstairs. Once and for all, end it. Identical mascara streaks on your cheeks like a personal camo, “pretending to be a regular girl, but not!”
By Salomé Saffiriabout a month ago in Fiction
