Psychological
The Insulted and the Miraculous. Content Warning.
My mother and I found ourselves in one of those establishments--Italian, perhaps, or some pale imitation thereof--where the air is thick with the scent of garlic and the clatter of plates, and every glance from a stranger feels like an accusation.
By ANTICHRIST SUPERSTAR21 days ago in Fiction
A Fucked-Up Wedding Toast - 3
Hi everyone. I’m Daniel from accounting. Mark and I worked together for six years, which is long enough to learn a lot about someone. Like how he drinks his coffee, the songs he hums when he thinks no one's listening, or the way he pushes his luxurious hair back from his eyes. And the fact that he once said he hoped to find someone “kind, patient, and steady.”
By Lana V Lynx22 days ago in Fiction
The Night My Daughter Called
Three years after burying an empty coffin, a mother receives a call from the daughter she lost to the ocean. The voice sounds real, frightened, and impossibly close. In the quiet of the night, something begins that she doesn't fully understand.
By Lori A. A.23 days ago in Fiction
Mobius Stripper
I wanted it, and I got it. There were always things about The Prism that bothered me, but those thoughts were unspoken, unwritten and hopefully - this is where I got into trouble - unheard. A bit of a tough time with that last one. We, of course, were on a psychic feed with each other, and you knew the business of people you did not even want to have a meal with; it was up to you to shut certain things out.
By Kendall Defoe 23 days ago in Fiction
The Story Beneath The Story
People call me Bigfoot and other names and say that I smell horribly. They are afraid of me because I’m not human and have fur. I live where few people do, and the scent I give off is from my rich diet. We live in the wilderness, hiding from humans, and smell like the earth and trees. We rub the raw elk onto our fur and sometimes have nests with carcasses and excrement. Humans don’t find traces of our bodies because, when near death, our fur sheds and eagles take it away. We only die in the spring when wolf and bear cubs are emerging, and our bodies feed their young, while their parents consume our bones. There aren’t many of us left. We think humans stink, and we know when they are near. Human females smell better than males, but sometimes their acrid odor makes me sneeze; it seems to happen once every moon.
By Andrea Corwin 23 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. Graham24 days ago in Fiction
