Psychological
The Sack. Content Warning.
Author’s Note: This story was originally written for a creative prompt and has since been revisited and revised. Though fictional, it draws inspiration from real historical atrocities and the destruction of thriving Black communities in America. The language within the journal entries reflects the prejudices of the era in which the fictional narrator lived. While certain terms have been softened, they are included to illuminate the cruelty and contradictions of that time, not to excuse or endorse them.
By Briya Shockley2 months ago in Fiction
Any Minute Now. Honorable Mention in Rituals of Affection Challenge. Content Warning.
Molly started the coffee and opened the kitchen curtains to let in some of the morning light. It was bright out, as was often the case here, where she lived near the desert canyon with Jack.
By Shannon Hilson2 months ago in Fiction
The impact came from nowhere.. AI-Generated.
One moment, Adam was crossing the campus quad, his textbook tucked under his arm, thinking about the thermodynamics exam he hadn't studied enough for. The next moment, something hard and heavy collided with the side of his face, and the world dissolved into a spray of red and a sound like rushing water.
By mohamed hasan2 months ago in Fiction
Harbingers of the Apocalypse
"For the love of Go....! What is this madness. What is happening. Am I dreaming". I am trapped in a nightmare. The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse are riding towards me. I try to run...but I am paralysed with fear, rooted numb with horror - for terrifying are they to behold. My mind is fast forwarding backwards, like a movie reel spinning in reverse. I stare stupidly at the symbolic figures from the Book of Revelation, representing significant events that will occur at the end of days.
By Novel Allen2 months ago in Fiction
The night everything changed. Content Warning.
As soon as I saw it, I knew what needed to be done. I left without a second thought. I ran straight into the pouring rain and was soaked within seconds. I shivered and pulled my cloak tighter, but the buttons were broken and I couldn’t close it properly. One was missing, and the rest hung from loose threads. A cold draft slipped through, the wind flowing freely.
By Minou J. Linde2 months ago in Fiction
Performative Ritual. Runner-Up in Rituals of Affection Challenge.
He has certain expectations for the women in his life. Her closet represents many of them; only whores show their shoulders or their knees. Skirts must be long. Tank tops are simply for other people. People who aren’t them. People who aren’t decent like they are.
By Leigh Victoria Phan, MS, MFA2 months ago in Fiction
Four
… After kissing Victoire goodbye and leaving her in the middle of the night street, Romain and I enter his building and climb up to the fourth floor. Incidentally, I live on the fourth floor too. So does Victoire. As it happens, most of my friends have ended up on this floor, without meaning to. Is there something magical about this even natural number? One, two, three, four.
By Anastasia Tsarkova2 months ago in Fiction
Emergency Services
Emergency Services They made six calls that night. Six false emergencies, spaced just far enough apart to feel clever. Laughter pressed into sleeves, invented panic, then the click of disconnection. The operator stayed calm every time. Calm made it feel harmless. He went home believing the night had been wasted on nothing.
By George’s Girl 2026 2 months ago in Fiction
The Passenger
The one unspoken rule: don't let the driver be held responsible for the crash. Shoved into a car with them as you are only allowed to have relationships if you stay in their car and never leave. The insult looming of having to become resilient when jumping out of the car to get through being independent and those copying you choose alone and brag about being able to choose it. It is a sick mockery that is allowed to go on. These people taking from you while not asking for it and you adapting way better than most while surviving. Now there is insult to injury of those pretending they don't have people or making alone time a "silly little fun thing" to be up to after they destroyed someone's life.
By Seashell Harpspring 2 months ago in Fiction
