Stream of Consciousness

The Archaeology of Sorrow. Content Warning.
Dorothy Kelloway had learned that grief was an archaeologist, uncovering layers of a life she'd never known existed, one heartbreaking artifact at a time.
By Caleb Lahr12 months ago in Fiction
The Boy and the Camel
The desert stretched endlessly under the golden sun shimmering like a sea of fire. From afar it looked lifeless but anyone who lived in its embrace knew that the desert had its own soul. It whispered through the wind roared through the sandstorms and carried the footprints of countless travelers who had crossed it over centuries.
By Article Writing Master12 months ago in Fiction
To Be or Not To Be
Sometimes, life places us at a crossroads. One path appears easy but hollow inside, while the other looks difficult yet hides a new horizon at the end. Ali found himself standing at such a point in his life. In his mind, one question echoed again and again: “To be or not to be?”
By Atiqbuddyabout a year ago in Fiction
THE KNOCK
It was a Tuesday night, the kind that folds in on itself, hushed and unremarkable. Rain had stopped just after dusk, leaving the world slick and smelling faintly of wet earth. Inside her small house at the edge of the woods, Clara sat curled in her armchair with a blanket pulled around her shoulders, a book open but forgotten on her lap. The stillness was almost too complete; even the old radiator had gone quiet.
By Pamela Dirrabout a year ago in Fiction
Door Slam
“Tap, tap, tap.” “And so gently she came rapping,” I muttered to myself. This was the third time this week and I sighed. It was Sunday so at least I was prepared with coffee and cookies in the oven. And by ‘prepared’ I meant only technically, mentally I could never be prepared for this shit. I had come to dread the sound of those taps on my door. My cozy little apartment, my place of solitude and peace, so suddenly turning to a prison of torment by just two feet shuffling their way across the threshold of my door. It wasn’t the big things, there weren’t big things she did that I could point to and say ‘this is why’. No it was more insidious than that, it was a bunch of little things piling up, death by a thousand cuts.
By Raine Fielderabout a year ago in Fiction
The Forest Dream
I was walking, walking in the forest, and I wasn’t sure how I got there. I was just sitting in my office, and all of a sudden, I was in a dark, gloomy forest surrounded by trees and birds chirping. It was nice and melancholy, the type of feeling only a dream could provide.
By Deeabout a year ago in Fiction
In the Wake of A Nightmare
As I gazed through the French doors, a sweep of turquoise water stretched before me, waves crashing against the cliffs below with a rhythm that pulsed in my ears. This was the trip I had been longing for, and now that I was wrapped in its vivid reality, I felt lifted to a kind of heaven.
By C.Z. Munu about a year ago in Fiction
A Visit To My Mind Mansion
Introduction I wrote a story for the Vocal "Maps of the Self" Challenge, which you can read here: The music is "Windmills Of Your Mind" by Doroth Ashby
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred about a year ago in Fiction
The Treasurer Of The Future
Knock! Knock! Knock! It was 12:30, Midnight. I wasn't expecting visitors. I just wanted to finish watching the news and go to bed since I had just come home from a night shift at the hospital.
By Carol Ann Townendabout a year ago in Fiction
A Cruise for Only Two
The private party felt like it was running on its own rules. Soft lights, music low enough to feel secret, drinks passed around without anyone counting. Danny had found it by mistake, following the wrong hallway and catching a glimpse of a door that never should have been open. James was already inside, leaning against the bar like he owned the place. He had been on ships like this for years, knew the tricks, the hidden corners. Danny was wide-eyed, clutching his first drink like it might anchor him.
By Joey Rainesabout a year ago in Fiction
Gambler's Hope
A Gambler's Hope by Theodore Homuth Homuthbooks.com Lila sat at the slot machine, her fingers trembling as she fed another crumpled bill into the flashing maw. The casino’s neon glow bathed her in a false promise of fortune, the air thick with cigarette smoke and desperation. She was down to her last twenty, rent due in three days, and the electric bill already two weeks late. But the pull of the lever, the spinning reels, kept her rooted. One win, she told herself. One win could fix it all.
By Theodore Homuthabout a year ago in Fiction
A Guardian Angel and the Dog
Description This is a guardian angel short story about a clumsy protector and the dog that will not leave him alone. It is an angel and dog story of loyalty, comedy, and the strange bond that builds between the two while the human remains unaware.
By Joey Rainesabout a year ago in Fiction