Stream of Consciousness

Now Boarding . Top Story - August 2026.
Despite Kelsey’s best efforts in the art of self restraint, all she thought about while standing in the boarding line was how divinely handsome he was. There was something about his chin as he looked out over the tarmac that said “I can cook a meal, pay the bills, and still nerd out over a video game, but in a way that’s cute and not smelly.”
By Matthew J. Frommabout a month ago in Fiction
Can AI Dummy Down the Constitution?
What if the Constitution had been written by AI; or dumbed down into simple language? We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.
By Andrea Corwin about a month ago in Fiction
Sleight of Hand: Impermanence and The Illusion Between Us
Impermanence and The Illusion Between Us Why do they say all is impermanent? There is a misconception within this. To say, all is impermanent , is already to make a conclusion. To say this understanding is true is then to make the understanding permanent. So already there is something strange about the statement itself.
By Chase McQuade2 months ago in Fiction
Dream Anthology Pt.2
I've received an odd email. It looks like a child has written it however the undertones are threatening. You've taken from me so I'll take from you. Then a poorly inserted picture of a knife. "Weird," I think then I mark it as spam and move on.
By Ducky Joe 2 months ago in Fiction
The Woman in the Mirror. AI-Generated.
The bathroom mirror was old, its silver backing flaking away at the edges like rust on a forgotten gate. Every evening at 10:00 PM, after the house grew quiet and the city traffic outside faded into a distant hum, I stood before it to wash away the day.
By M.Fiaz2 months ago in Fiction
The Second Chance. AI-Generated.
The train station platform at 7:00 PM was cold, slick with rain, and bathed in the yellow glare of hummed overhead lights. I pulled my wet coat tight around my shoulders, watching the tracks stretch into the dark fog. I was thirty-eight years old, exhausted, and carrying a briefcase filled with documents for a life I didn't particularly care about anymore.
By M.Fiaz2 months ago in Fiction
Before the Rain. AI-Generated.
The air always changes right before the rain begins. The wind slows down, the leaves on the big oak tree turn their undersides to the sky, and the sharp scent of damp soil fills the porch. It is a quiet , heavy moment where the whole world seems to hold its breath.
By M.Fiaz2 months ago in Fiction
One Last Letter. AI-Generated.
The yellowed envelope sat at the bottom of my metal mailbox, tucked beneath a utility bill and a colorful grocery flyer. My name and address were written across the front in dark blue ink. The handwriting was unmistakable—slanted, sharp, and unmistakably David’s.
By M.Fiaz2 months ago in Fiction
The Cafe's Empty Chair. AI-Generated.
The small brass bell above the door of the café always rang twice when the wind blew. Every Tuesday afternoon, I sat at my usual table, drank my coffee, and stared at the empty seat near the big window. It was a simple dark wood chair with a small notch carved into the back.
By M.Fiaz2 months ago in Fiction
On The Floor. Top Story - August 2026.
One last mouthful of gritty cheap beer made its way down my throat as I heard the words every drunk despises at 2’oclock in the morning. While men shouted and cheered, stumbling and skipping to the long dark wall of stools and pieced together boards in front of me, crowding around like a swarm of mosquitoes for one last pull off the arm of some unexpecting victim in a quiet dark forest that my soul burned for.
By Brier2 months ago in Fiction
The Scale of The Almighty
I had a dream of justice. I was seeking it. I heard the words of Christ, but for a moment he faded, and I looked upward toward the sky, saying:
By Chase McQuade2 months ago in Fiction
Tasting the Stars
The bubbles went straight to her head As she shouted love into the void Falling is easy, she said Like falling to sleep, amidst the noise
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsden2 months ago in Fiction