Stream of Consciousness

Why a Real Zombie Apocalypse Would Probably Fail
They’re the living dead. Our nightmares wrapped in rotting flesh. Brain-hungry monsters that shuffle through our favorite shows and movies like they own the place.
By Areeba Umairabout 2 hours ago in Fiction
Namieda
"Tell us a story, Nami". Little Joya pleaded. "I shall tell you of a young girl named Namieda, who yearned for more than just the ordinary. She embarks on a magical journey, both literally and within her mind. She travels near and far. Now she is much older and sits with her grandchildren, regaling them with her journey. Nami still wears flowers in her hair and dresses in her flowery dresses, sandals and comfortable flats.
By Antoni De'Leonabout 13 hours ago in Fiction
Bee vs Beekeeper's smoke. Content Warning.
Two hours before the police came, I was heading to Woolies for some groceries. I drove with one had on the steering wheel and a refreshing fruit juice in the other while I enjoyed the last few verses of Harry Styles’ Aperture on the radio. I remember being annoyed at how the law firm ads started before the song had ended. I did not notice the car behind me.
By Ruby Reda day ago in Fiction
Absurdity, Cynicism and Nihilism.
There is a reason why every generation has to wave goodbye in the cycle of our evolution. As unquestionable as the transitioning of the seasons, are the vibrations of the stages of our individual existence.
By Antoni De'Leon3 days ago in Fiction
Seeking The Facts Behind a Myth
Each individual alone judges what they have faith in from what life has taught them. Faith arrives when there is an interplay between mind and body, that forms a strong framework laid on strong foundations. Faith that information, from something larger that can transcend to the depth of the heart and enhance a spirit with confidence in a soul that sees past blindly believing in the causes of wars fought in the name of religious idealism or a way of life that imposes restrictions based on race, caste or the gender one is born into, often stems from the dignity of science, church and community. Through the nature of alchemy, astrology and theory, the brain sorts through what is repressed, unknown or ignored then disassociates preconceived ideas to bring honor and respect to the dead.
By Katherine D. Graham3 days ago in Fiction
Sometimes It's Like That and That'sThe Way It Is. Top Story - March 2026.
It was the late 1960s, and ten-year-old Gloria Coleman was standing with her grandmother on the side of the highway waiting for the bus. As the Greyhound pulled up, it seemed monstrous and intimidating. Grandma Elizabeth grabbed Gloria's hand, holding it tightly as they boarded.
By Cheryl E Preston3 days ago in Fiction
We Were At A Beach Party
Can you believe we went all the way to Mazatlan, Mexico, to attend this party, and the couple hosting kicked everyone out because of one stupid myth!
By Denise E Lindquist4 days ago in Fiction
Peace
Something's happening 'round here. Some folks just seem to be gettin' happy ever since Captain Groovy decided to run for public office. He decided to run as an independent on the Peace ticket and name the party the Groovy Party. The Groovy Party was the laughingstock of the political arena, their views on hate and violence were seen as ridiculous. No one took the party seriously, that is, until Captain Groovy became the party leader.
By John Scipio4 days ago in Fiction
Why?
The collar of my stark white shirt was soaked to the bone, just like the back of my neck. Like wet paper against my neck. I could blame the August heat or the diner's broken air conditioning. I was tracing the peeling part of the Formica table with my fingers, pressing my thumb into the deep grooves. Hard enough to keep from breaking.
By Manuel C.5 days ago in Fiction
Shadow On The Ledge. Content Warning.
‘So, you think life has meaning, yet here you are on the ledge? That doesn't add up.’ ‘Yes, it does. Imagine wanting to die and standing there on the edge, facing death. At first, your whole life flashes before you—each disaster feels overwhelming, piling up. The emotions freeze you. But as you stand there, something changes. Slowly, those disasters lose their weight. Painful memories fade, and suddenly, you start remembering good moments you had overlooked. It’s like your mind finally breaks free from focusing only on the bad and shows you small signs of hope you hadn’t seen before.’
By Moon Desert6 days ago in Fiction
Echoes of Resistance
The streets of Bristol were alive that day, though not with the usual hum of buses and chatter, but with the heavy pulse of voices that demanded to be heard. I had not intended to join the protest—I came to observe, to write, to bear witness—but once I stepped into the swell of people, the energy was impossible to ignore. The banners waved above heads, each one a story, a demand, a prayer. The scent of rain-soaked asphalt mixed with the faint tang of chalk from hastily scrawled messages, leaving the air electric.
By imtiazalam7 days ago in Fiction
The Shape of the Law From the Man of the Mountain
The man from the mountain did not come down shining but that was how people told it later, after years had worn the terror smooth and made a lantern of him in memory. When I first saw him descending through the dusk, he looked like someone who had been pulled through the inside of a storm and returned only in part. Dust clung to the hollows of his face. His robe was split at the shoulder. His mouth moved once before sound came out as if speech had been thinned by the height and had not yet thickened again in the air below; still the people surged toward him. They always did when fear and hope wore the same face.
By Cadma7 days ago in Fiction