Stream of Consciousness
The Tooth Faerie . Content Warning.
“Dad, what if it falls out?” The boy jams a finger sideways into his mouth and wiggles the loose one. “Well, bud, that’s normal, baby teeth are supposed to fall out.” The father tucks the boy into his favorite Spider-Man blanket.
By Sam Spinelliabout a year ago in Fiction
Scared of the Dark. Content Warning.
Her eyes would just not close. The clock on the nightstand glowed with the reality that sleep was being wasted; minutes marched by so quickly; she would not get any of them back. Every noise formidably louder than the last. Pipes creaked. The large wall clock in the living room reverberated off the walls as each time the second hand advanced. The springs were wearing out. The echo was ungodly loud.
By Kimberly Delucaabout a year ago in Fiction
The Day My Grandfather Stopped Time
I always thought my grandfather was just… ordinary. Old, quiet, and a little forgetful. But one rainy afternoon, he showed me something I’ll never forget. He took my hand and led me to the attic—a place I had never dared enter. Dust danced in the light as he opened a small, wooden box. Inside were dozens of old photographs, each labeled with a date. “This,” he said, “is how I stopped time.” I laughed. “Stopped time? Grandpa, you’re being dramatic.” He smiled but didn’t answer. Instead, he handed me a photo. It was me, sitting in the living room at age five, smiling at something I couldn’t see. “Look closer,” he said. And I did. Hidden in the background, almost invisible, was a tiny shadow… smiling at me. He explained that in every photo, there was a moment frozen that no one else could see—a second where happiness was so pure it could outlast the years. He had been capturing them all his life. That day, I understood: time doesn’t really stop. Memories do. And sometimes, the simplest moments are the ones worth holding forever. I left the attic with a strange sense of peace. Because even if the world moves on, the magic of ordinary life never disappears.
By Haileyesusabout a year ago in Fiction
Shadows on the Edge of Tomorrow
By Nadeem Shah The rain had a way of softening the city’s edges. Buildings that normally looked sharp and unforgiving now blurred into a watercolor of gray and silver. Streetlights bled into the puddles, their glow stretching out in ripples with every raindrop that fell.
By Nadeem Shah about a year ago in Fiction
Shadows on the Edge of Tomorrow
By Nadeem Shah The rain had a way of softening the city’s edges. Buildings that normally looked sharp and unforgiving now blurred into a watercolor of gray and silver. Streetlights bled into the puddles, their glow stretching out in ripples with every raindrop that fell.
By Nadeem Shah about a year ago in Fiction
The Last Letter She Never Sent
By Nadeem Shah The envelope had yellowed with time, the edges curling slightly as if it had been holding its breath for years. It sat at the bottom of the box, beneath a stack of old photographs and forgotten receipts, as though it had been waiting—patient, quiet—for someone to finally notice it.
By Nadeem Shah about a year ago in Fiction
What if humans couldn't lie
What if humans couldn't lie? I was struggling to open my eyes when the alarm went off— or at least, I think it went off. It was 5.30 am, my eyes glued shut filled with eye gunk, swollen, and heavy with sleepiness. My body almost paralysed and sunken into the mattress with heavy legs and stiff joints from running the night before.
By Abdullah Talaatabout a year ago in Fiction
