Category: Fiction
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Christopher’s Tale
I found this boy famished on the side of the road, with dirt smudges across his face. The boy looked like he was thirteen or maybe fifteen years of age.— He didn’t speak much. We rode the lonesome road and let the asphalt take its time. Fourteen minutes had passed. ‘Riley’ the boy stared ahead.…
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In the Pawnshop Somewhere on 7th Street
This story contains themes or mentions of physical violence. In the bustling streets of a city I, unfortunately, called my home, I stumbled into an old shop. There were antiques behind glass, things I’d never seen before. I was somehow drawn to the shiny artifacts. One of the things that caught my eye, was a…
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the concept of happy
“This is great! No, it’s perfect,” the autumn leaves on the street. And when I step on it, making this sweet crispy sound. Wonderful perfect sentences flew into my mind. “How can I do that when I have no plan? Words make no sense and sentences are confusing.” “But I don’t care. I care about…
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Midnight Murder Hotel
The crackling of burning branches set the mood for a hazy trip down memory lane. At night, a forest held secrets that couldn’t be seen in the daylight. Makes you wonder if those things are real. But then again; the acts of the moon are mysterious. “Remember how we used to go to the arcade…
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In the Middle of Nowhere
It was a quiet day in the middle of nowhere. The only sound that could be heard all around the dry land was a high whistle that lasted forever. And far into this cracks-in-the-ground-nothing-to-do-here place, there was a house; a farmhouse that looked like it was stuck in 1930. The steps leading up to the…
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Georgia
This story contains themes or mentions of physical violence and gore. Her name was Georgia, a beautiful girl with brown hair that touched her shoulders and a perfect smile. But I would’ve never been good enough for her. I was just that one person who spent too much time looking at pictures of her, wishing…
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The Flow of Time
The shutter captured the house perfectly in the moment. Beautiful shadows of trees laid on brick walls. Windows, like an open soul, figured out the secret buried in the dark depths of a heart. Lighting in the house made the atmosphere warm and calm, like the people living in it could face anything. Like starting…
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Memories of the Lost Soul
This story contains themes or mentions of physical violence. The sunlight came in through the thin curtains. Its orange warm beam fell on a stack of books in a room. A bedroom. Someone was waking up. There she is, Stacy Wildwood. Her brown shoulder-length hair looked golden in the sunlight. She sat up and wiped…
