Fable
The Shadow Rooms of the Self
The spaces we avoid. That is the shadow self. This the space where archetypes hide and are stored upon a shelf. Memories locked behind closet doors, like a doll named Chuckie. We get to know our shadow selves, those of us are lucky.
By A.K. Treadwell 3 months ago in Fiction
THE LAST VOICE NOTE SHE LEFT ME
Her name was Ayla, and for three years, she had been the brightest part of my small, quiet life. We weren’t dating. We weren’t siblings. We were something in between—two broken kids who accidentally became each other’s lifelines.
By Muhammad Kashif 3 months ago in Fiction
The Ceasefire That Didn’t Hold
The Ceasefire That Didn’t Hold For three days, the border had been filled with fire, smoke, and fear. Then the ceasefire came — a thin thread of hope, fragile like glass. For the first time in seventy-two hours, the guns went quiet. Families returned from camps. Soldiers stepped back from their positions. Reporters lowered their cameras.
By Wings of Time 3 months ago in Fiction
Fishing at the Edge of the World
I was disappointed when I caught a star-tinged guppy at the edge of the Earth. A space whale, or at least something bigger than my hand, would have been nice to show my village. But that’s not how the day went, and looking back, I should have been thankful I didn’t die out there. I was young and naïve, thought I could do it all alone. Boy, was I wrong.
By Melodramatic Maladies of the Mystical Mind3 months ago in Fiction
When the Bones are Good
The door was heavier than I remembered, but the hinges were weak with rust. I leaned in, my body pressed up against the frame and shoved. I stumbled into the room clumsily, gripping the knob still so as not to crash down to the floor. There were tiles missing in the linoleum, and the white, floral white paper had taken on a dingy yellow stain.
By Theresa M Hochstine3 months ago in Fiction
Cellar Of Dreams
Introduction This tale was first inspired by the Volkov image, and as I was putting this together, I had put a Silencers album on the player, and the absolutely gorgeous "Cellar Of Dreams" came on, and I knew it was a perfect accompaniment for my story.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 3 months ago in Fiction
The Silence on Hawthorne Street.. AI-Generated.
It was the kind of evening that made people lock their doors a little tighter. Rain had been falling steadily since morning, slicking the streets and coating the sidewalks in a reflective sheen. James Whitaker pulled his coat tighter around his shoulders and walked slowly down Hawthorne Street, the collar brushing the back of his neck. His footsteps echoed in the otherwise empty street, the sound swallowed almost instantly by the rhythm of raindrops hitting the pavement.
By William Ebden.3 months ago in Fiction
