Challenge
Why Your Paralysis Is Lying to You
Let me paint you a picture. You're standing at the edge of something - a new career, a difficult conversation, a gym membership you've had since January that's been collecting more dust than results. And instead of moving, you freeze. You overthink. You scroll. You convince yourself that the "right moment" is just around the corner.
By Narghiza Ergashovaabout a month ago in Writers
Loss Control
Loss Control I went to sleep last night with loss on my mind. My mom died when I was 17 years old, and that loss burdened my heart and soul for a long time. Grief and sorrow were a painful journey; letting go of her was monumental. When I finally released her, she’d been gone for four years. Until I let go of her, though, my heart was not ready to heal or move on with life. She died before I was ready to lose her, but I had to let her go anyway.
By Mack D. Amesabout a month ago in Writers
That Bird!
The following story is for Annie Kapur's Challenge, which I will list below! Enjoy! Imagine, if you will, me as an adorably chubby six-year-old. My family was at my Grandma Britton's house (it was a nickname), to celebrate Christmas. Little did I realize that my life would change forever!
By Rain Dayzeabout a month ago in Writers
The Unseen That Stalks In The Night
The Vocal Team's Steal From Yourself Challenge has motivated me to create a story, from "The Night Stalker", that is on another platform. I am challenged to tell the tale without rewriting the original article and I'll succeed. The line I borrowed is "The unseen that stalks in darkness."
By Cheryl E Prestonabout a month ago in Writers
The Trees
When I was a little girl, The Wizard of Oz came on television once a year. By the time I was old enough to watch, CBS aired it, always around but not on my birthday. You’ll hear from many that the flying monkeys terrified them. Not me. I was always in bed crying by then. An earlier scene scared me so badly that I must have been ten or eleven years old before I could watch past this scene.
By Harper Lewis about a month ago in Writers
"Punctuation, who knows all the rules."
Punctuation is it really necessary at all times, especially that pesky comma that you place in one sentence that really should not belong there and they call it a comma splice. Then there are those things they call quotation marks to denote who or what is speaking. There are plenty more punctuation marks like the ellipses, parentheses, ampersands, asterisks which are hardly used it seems unless you are some kind of technical writer or really any kind of writer. Then we have our standards that are used all the time like the period, question mark and exclamation mark. I guess punctuation is really necessary if one wants to be a writer or teacher or really any profession if one wants to get their correct message across for if there were no punctuation everything would be one long sentence. Punctuation does serve a purpose.
By Mark Grahamabout a month ago in Writers
The Sacrifice . Top Story - September 2026.
We’ve gathered today, in the belly of the Earth, for the grand decision. My family blazes hot and anxious all around me as the most important of flames flicker ahead. With a swift flicker of a smoldering finger, I’m beckoned to stand before the council’s fiery stares.
By Kera Hollowabout a month ago in Writers
Nepenthe
Impulsivity, parasocial longevity, anything not to feel the wound of my betrayal, the acidic dissolution of a sewn-shut mouth hushing the algorithm for lurkers awaiting confessions with clasped hand to loins— just a cluster of sadists with an emotional pain kink. Your pleasure is my yearning. My heart — served on a golden platter for you to gracefully desert while the leeches orbit my affliction, feigning knowledge of me and wearing their dresses of conceit in envy-green, because I am that lovergirl, that netflix-and-chill-with-a-pretty-boy girl, who wears her mistake like a crown, her delusion like a solution to the pain that will be , whose authenticity confronts your conformity until your perception of this suffering becomes anything but a promise to make it last .
By Ruth Francise about a month ago in Writers
