Stream of Consciousness

Lemonade Skies
The first thing Ava noticed when she stepped off the bus was the smell of lemons. Not strong, not artificial — just faint enough to feel real. The kind of scent that danced through the summer breeze and reminded her of freedom, even if she hadn’t felt it in a long time.
By Esther Sunabout a year ago in Fiction
Punishment
Get this published book here. An Excerpt from the Book by Joey Raines Rain was coming down like the world was ending, each drop smashing against the windshield like tiny bombs. The wipers couldn't keep up, squealing and scraping as they fought back and forth in time with Luke's pounding heart. He was gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles had gone white, hands slippery with sweat even though the October cold was seeping through his car's broken heater.
By Joey Rainesabout a year ago in Fiction
India 4th largest economy world news
India has officially surpassed Japan to become the world's fourth-largest economy, marking a significant milestone in its economic journey. India's nominal Gross Domestic Product (GDP) is predicted to reach $4.187 trillion for the fiscal year 2025-26, slightly higher than Japan's estimated $4.186 trillion, according to the IMF's World Economic Outlook report e Timfrom April 2025. Thes of India
By Wasib reza Fahimabout a year ago in Fiction
Mark It Up
As a child, she started reading books very young. They were prized possessions, and there were rules attached, like no dog earing, and no lending to anyone untrusted.
By Belleabout a year ago in Fiction
The Drawing of My Life
When I was a child, I believed that pencils held magic. Not the kind of magic that turned frogs into princes or moved mountains—but the quiet kind. The kind that turned thoughts into pictures, emotions into shapes, and silence into color. I didn’t speak much as a kid. While other children chased each other on the playground or shouted answers in class, I sat in the corner of my own world, sketching stick figures and stars on the backs of my notebooks.
By Esther Sunabout a year ago in Fiction
The Ballad of the Noonday Slumber
In a quaint and unassuming neighborhood, nestled between the arms of time-worn streets and weathered homes, there lived an old man who had seen more than his fair share of the world. His eyes, though dimmed by time, held a depth of wisdom that only years of experience could bestow. One of his most cherished routines was taking a nap in the afternoon. The warm sun would stream through his window, casting a gentle glow over his weathered face as he drifted into a peaceful slumber, escaping for a while the burdens that life had placed upon his shoulders.
By Heydoabout a year ago in Fiction
The Girl at Table Nine
Every Sunday, like clockwork, she sat at table nine. Same black coat. Same tight bun. Same haunted eyes. She’d order a black coffee, two eggs over easy, and sourdough toast—nothing more, nothing less. She always came alone and never spoke unless spoken to.
By Aliabout a year ago in Fiction
The Bookstore Where Our Eyes First Spoke
The old bookstore on Elm Street was supposed to be torn down by spring. It smelled like dusty paper and warm cinnamon, with creaky wooden floors that whispered with every step. Leah had wandered in on a rainy Tuesday, hoping to kill time. She wasn’t expecting to find the last piece of her heart between the pages of a book—or in someone else’s eyes.
By The Waiting Treeabout a year ago in Fiction
Come Sunday Morning
Sunday morning and another day to say that 'I am here, and I am loved." Sundays are a day of reflection, but to be honest it's also day to catch up or to even get ahead in some other 'work' that one must feel must be done. It is a day to remember some basic rules of living this life that the creator has seen to give us to do with what we please with it, but do we always make the right decisions for ourselves and/or others that happen to be around us and to be truthful I try.
By Mark Grahamabout a year ago in Fiction
Memorial Day
So, another Memorial Day is upon us this month of May. It seems that we all seem to have fun on this first summer holiday. There are so many of us who plan some sort of family gathering that could mean barbecues of many kinds of picnic foods from the common hamburgers and hot dogs and potato salad and whatever seems to be of interest to share. There may be some who drink, but I hope they do wisely for this is a day to remember the fallen who gave their all to this country we love and live for.
By Mark Grahamabout a year ago in Fiction
The Wall of Folly
Under the vast, indifferent sky, an old lady sat by the roadside, her gnarled hands resting on a weathered cane. Her eyes, clouded with age yet sharp with intuition, were fixed on a towering wall nearby. It was an ancient structure, its bricks weather-beaten and cracked, leaning precariously as if a mere whisper could bring it down. Every time she gazed at it, a strange, insistent feeling welled up in her heart—the wall seemed as if it would collapse at any moment.
By Heydoabout a year ago in Fiction
Raymond
Edgar lived by a strict code of live and let live, firmly believing that life would be better for everyone if they minded their own business and not others. He was never nosy and stayed to himself. Because of this, he was the friend of many and being so popular was always invited to all the major shindigs.
By Mother Combsabout a year ago in Fiction