Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Humans.
The Sound of Us
The Sound of Us The sounds were deafening. The lights were blinding. He shielded his eyes, as he stumbled out of the opera-house. There was always something about the journey from the lobby to the square that discombobulated him; it was as if he was stepping from one world to the next.
Burgandi RakoskaPublished 3 years ago in HumansClueless Party Crashers
I guess they’re my quarantine pod. Four of us, all over 60, get together once a week. Going to each other’s homes was fun but then we branched out to places where we can sit outside.
Cindy Shore SmithPublished 3 years ago in HumansAvaji in Euvoia
In an art studio called Euvoia in Manhattan, New York, the modern artist Benjamin Avaji paints a portrait. The painting contains a clock, a glass of water and a little black book.Benjamin brushes another long black Gouache stroke on the white Blick with a black coloured Blick Masterstroke Golden Taklon brush, laying the edge of the desk down onto the canvas.He looks over at the blazing fireplace and smiles. The artist steps away from the portrait to prod the flames in his study and when he turns back towards his painting, over at the edge of his desk there now a little black book rests... appearing exactly in all likeness such as the one he has been painting for the last couple of days.“I, I don’t think I...” Benjamin says and picks up the little black book from the edge of his desk. “How strange... I don’t remember having placed this book on my desk...” Benjamin Avaji flips through the empty little black book and finds nothing written inside. “Perhaps the performance has accomplished itself.” He says, referring to the experiment with magic he’s been working on the last few days. His assumption being that he could, through the translation of representations of objects which are in the world, cause the manifestation of objects in a dream-like way by the motion of light energy and traditional magic elements, in this case... fire.Benjamin Avaji walks up to the portrait he’s been working on and says, “Assuming that this little black book has manifested itself as a result of my having painted this portrait, my intentions coming to operate as a result of the magic afforded to me by the fire in my fireplace then I can assume that anything I write inside of it will come true if I cause the appropriate symbolic machinery to function and operate by fire... and just as the many ancient esoteric texts I have studied, in combination, appear to indicate...”Hours go by and the artist looks at the clock which reads eleven o’clock at night, says, “I should get some rest though... this is good enough progress for today...” and then, with a black ink pen, from the interior pocket of his black business suit jacket, he writes in the book, “and then, in the life of Benjamin Avaji, on April, seventh 2021 $20,000 appeared in the art studio, the Euvoia.” where then feeling quite accomplished, the artist puts out the fire in the fireplace, relaxes on the couch in his art studio, rests and falls asleep... and falls into a dream, a most wonderful dream...Benjamin finds himself laying down, in a dream, in a dream-trance, on a long, flat concrete bench in the white walled hallway of a mansion adorned with golden baseboards, where now here, thousands upon thousands of white feathers spin in the air above him, sparkling the effect there like diamonds, the dream atmosphere, smooth like whole milk, gleaming soft and effulgent like if Greek architecture were composed of pillows, with his hands extended out towards the bright, glowing feathers... reaching out to them, the life drama bending to break in the extraordinary in this... dream.He lay, the hands outstretched, while the feathers spin quickly in the air above him where now the artist begins to gain some lucidity in his dream and just as his gaze intersects with the ethereal glow of the fast spinning white feathers a gale rushes in, somehow blowing everything around in the hall except the feathers. Glasses of water are rushed up into the air, papers fly, thrown to the west end of the long hallway and the feathers now appear to take on an edge of like fire. Blazing here, the spectacle is wonderful, those feathers burn brighter, the performance is marvelous, magnificent so, and those fiery feathers spin faster.As the feathers appear to be on the edge of burning themselves out, bearing themselves against the burning, the blaze, a single American dollar bill flits through the air, the hundred dollar denomination, and in like beside the slow motion of crashing things about the whirlwind of the astonishing weather, the one hundred dollar bill flutters swiftly where now it comes to a sudden halt, with like some kind of liquid slack, prostrating itself in the air, below the white feathers burning, the white feathers burning their boundaries... out.Benjamin Avaji sits up in the hallway of his dream and plucks the one hundred dollar bill from its place in the air. The feathers let out a single burst of flames, in unison, burning themselves out, completely now, coming to disintegrate where here, instead of falling to black ash, their soft white material burns away into what appears to be a desert sand and Benjamin extends his hand out, allowing the once fluttering feathers to pour out on his left hand as a most fantastic medium... soft desert sand, gold, like a grand hill of wheat ground up to grind the gears of time itself by self-referentiality. The room begins to expand as the sand pours out and off of his hand onto the ground.When it’s all gone to the ground and the last grain falls down the sand begins to glow. The gleam grows and then, suddenly, golden bells fall upwards from the small piles of sand, the bones of those floating spinning white sparkling feathers burned up in their passion, resurrected once again to fly, like the phoenix. The bells, thousands of them as they go, populate the expanse of the ceiling in this mansion as it has expanded to appear now as an auditorium of sorts, and expand as they make their journey to that higher place.The golden bells hang in the vault, grandiose, now to resound that comfortable swell of the sweetest song, the bright beam of beauty and it’s radiance lays itself out on the space here, thickening the quality of life about the element of the beauty. When the wave hits Benjamin, the brightness takes it’s transcendental course and the one hundred dollar bill in his pocket is drawn to translate, transformed by the multiplicity of golden bells in the up there of the upside of the auditorium. It twitches in his right hand and, through like plexi-glass, pops, once where thus was only one has now become about itself as two. Benjamin Avaji looks down at his hand which now holds two hundred dollars with awe in the auditorium of his dream, under those bright and golden bells who, bringing about all of that resplendency, appear to be growing in size now.Those grand bells let out another enchanting bellow of the bright, where here now, amidst the whirlwind of a dream churned up on the flames of dream feathers and the sands of their own time coming to burn away only to be resurrected up into their aerial arrangement again, the level of the threshold is slammed soft into it’s second stage by the glowing resonance in reverberation... something like the heaven I suppose, as the sound of light absolved the life, making like itself life in the auditorium place, most beautiful and ever more beautiful so.Once again, Benjamin Avaji’s money is caused to multiply as the energy of bright beam of the golden bells breaks the dollar into many and much more of itself. From his hand two hundred dollars bursts into two thousand, the American notes appearing to sparkle as they blossom, the monetary flower, into the addition of themselves, Avaji’s accumulation. The bells resound once more and two thousand dollars then bursts into twenty thousand dollars in front of Benjamin Avaji, the black suit wearing artist, now made dream magician who wakes up along with the burst on the couch in his studio, the Euvoia, with a suitcase in his arms, at his chest.He is taken aback and, with his eyes wide open, is surprised to find himself on the couch in his studio... with the black suitcase in his arms. He hurries to open the suitcase and finds the twenty thousand dollars within. Benjamin Avaji closes the suitcase, picks it up to hold it at his chest and hugs the black suitcase containing twenty thousand dollars.“The performance has accomplished itself again...” he says and looks down to where his little black book rests on the ground beside the couch, “I’ve been given a gift by the magic of the little black book...”
Elliott MaxwellPublished 3 years ago in HumansWeather Report
Reddish-pink and spotty black swirls appeared. I wasn’t in some dark constellation. Slowly becoming awake, I laid in bed with my eyes closed. The sun was just beginning to rise.
Steven WookiechuckyPublished 3 years ago in HumansAccidents
It’s strange to think about how our actions can have a huge impact on those around us without knowing it. That even the smallest things could be perceived by another person as significant and important.
Heather RoonanPublished 3 years ago in HumansA Leo Like No Other
I have never put much faith in Astrology. Well that is to say as far as who is compatible with whom. I feel as though even if you have stronger personality traits leaning one way or another should not decide your fate. If you want something to work, you must believe it will, and work to make sure it will. I guess in saying this it leads me to my next point I was born at the end of July, making my star sign a Leo. I do posses many of the traits of this fire sign. Anyone that knows me may even tell you that I am your typical Leo. For the most part I would predominantly agree with that.
Carolyn LeonelliPublished 3 years ago in HumansDomino
Avan This is Avan. He's a strange yet interesting young man, while he sits alone on a park bench pondering about something, yet I’m unsure if we will ever find out what that is. What do we really see here? A young man with really long straight hair? Sure. A guy with cool off brand sunglasses? Poser. Avan also wears way too many leather jackets throughout the week. For work Avan is a Gas Station Attendant, for fun he drinks with his buddies or sometimes even alone at night, and to spice things up Avan will occasionally go on a date or two per week. One day Avan was walking down an alley at night around 6pm with a beer in his hand, which he tends to do rarely, but something seemed to stop Avan in his tracks. It was a bloody envelope with lots of cash inside lying on the ground. Avan Unsure of what to do looked around to make sure no one was watching and looked back at the bloody envelope filled with 20,000 dollars in cash. Now I’d like to say that Avan simply walked away or turned the money into the police, but he didn’t. Avan put down his beer, picked up the bloody Envelope slipped it into his jacket pocket and walked away leaving his beer on the ground in the alley, which was stolen not too long after. Avan didn’t feel good but he didn’t feel too bad either, he felt that this was simply a sign from god. Avan continued his night, he went to work looking over both his shoulders and after work he decided to go out. Unashamed Avan spent his money on expensive bottles, treatment and friends. Avan kept taking shots back to back, soon after he received a text from his best friend saying meet him at this party so he could bring his car back. Avan pounded one more shot and stupidly he headed for the car. Avan figured he could manage a quick drive because he’s now awesome and this was his lucky day. Avan fumbles with his keys a little then gets in, Avan starts driving, he easily becomes distracted and loses control of the wheel, and hits someone, now let's talk about William.
TheDailyDoseOfRahmanPublished 3 years ago in HumansI am Cancer
I am Cancer. Hear me… cry myself to sleep at night. If you ever come across a description of Cancerians that doesn’t begin with ‘sensitive and emotional’, please send it my way, for the novelty value. When people ask me what my sign is at parties, I try to make a joke of it. I always reply: “Cancer, the emotional wreck of the zodiac.” If they know anything about astrology, they usually nod, and say: “Yeah.”
Lorelei RussellPublished 3 years ago in HumansAnd Then He Was Hit By That Truck
“I am a park ranger. Now, before you get excited, I’m not a ranger for one of those big famous parks, rather, you’re more likely to see couples enjoying a stroll together or a family having a picnic and making a mess I’ll probably have to clean up when they’re done instead of campers in my park. Instead of bear, you’re probably going to see a dog chase after a Frisbee or maybe a stray cat chasing after some squirrel in my wood if you’re looking for wildlife.
Little Black Book
Thud! Crack! The turf flew like grenade shrapnel underneath the horse hooves as they bounded down the track. Emma’s heart was beating so loudly she didn’t hear the roar of the crowd as the horses stampeded towards the finish line. Lighting Blaze’s nostrils flared, and fire burnt in its eyes as it flew down the track with determination inching its way up the side. Closer and closer to the front. Emma held her breath as Lightning Blaze lurched forward to win the race!
The Nordic Legend
The sweat dripped from her brow as the glaring afternoon sun burned her skin. Yet that was the least of her worries. For years she’d succumbed to the rough and scorching terrain, of the Sicilian coastline, and had obtained enough freckles to prove it. For years she’d persevered through the dreadful aches in her joints, enough to put an elderly to shame; nevertheless, that was all a part of the job and all a part of the thrill and adrenaline that coursed through her veins on a day-to-day basis. Any archaeologist would agree that digging was as addictive as gambling. Each day was a new day and in it lay the possibility of it being the day that one would unearth what that had lay untouched for centuries. Her father had always said, “if you give up now another fool will come along and brush away an inch of dirt to reveal what you’d been searching in for the past four metres.”
Hannah GracePublished 3 years ago in HumansOne out of the box
Charlie pushed the door to his room closed with his back, his hands carrying the heavy box. It had been a draining afternoon. He could hear his mother in the kitchen, making the sounds she made when she had lost heart with the world.
Claudia MegPublished 3 years ago in Humans