Stream of Consciousness

Where Did Christmas Go?
Inside, the house is like an oven. Too many people are crammed under one roof. Being in close quarters for so long with nothing to do, we get antsy. Harsh words are exchanged.
By Audrey Kaye Blue2 years ago in Fiction
A Perfect Day for Skiing
The crisp slopes were perfect. It was gently laid the night before with anticipation of today. My skis were ready as I entered the ideal day for the slopes. The cold was refreshing. Skiing was my favorite pastime, and I had finally taken my time off work. I woke up early for the empty slopes, yet the brisk air was calling me. I rode up the lift with the site of the snow-covered trees. The breeze was freezing but perfect for the day. I arrived at the top, and the slope was untouched. My skies have been waxed and ready. The smooth snow with no tracks as I came upon the hill. The sky was perfect, and I headed down the mountain. The speed calmed my heart to be alone on the slopes. The trees gave the hill the lines, and I cannot stop this great sport. This was one of the most advanced slopes. I was going my way till my skin became loose. Stopping became more difficult as I headed toward the trees. Snow was flying every day as my life flashed before my eyes. The snow suddenly gave way, and I was surrounded by snow. I finally realized I was in a pile of snow off the slope. My body was sore, and my head was throbbing. It was such a perfect day, and now I might just die in this hole. Suddenly, the snow started making a noise and moving. Is this a rescue or doom?
By Sarah Danaher2 years ago in Fiction
L IF e
At one age you had it. Until one day, you woke up and it was gone. Stolen from you like a thief in the night. When you realized it, you were dumbfounded, confused, and lost.
By Jordan Flynn2 years ago in Fiction
1987: The Old Town - A Genuine Harrowing Tale in India
In the core of the country India, settled among the influencing fields of wheat and sugarcane, lies the failed-to-remember town of Kailashpur. Covered in a quality of secret and premonition, this old settlement has for quite some time been supposed to hold onto dull mysteries and supernatural peculiarities. The year 1987 denoted a chilling part in the town's set of experiences, as a progression of strange situations transpired, diving Kailashpur into a bad dream from which it would battle to stir. This is the spine-shivering story of the genuine harrowing tale that unfurled in Kailashpur in the pivotal year of 1987.
By Ashok2 years ago in Fiction
The Cryptic House Cleaner: Phantom or Man?
In the curious town of Willowbrook, settled while moving slopes and rich vegetation, there stood a fabulous manor covered in secret. Tales whirled among the residents about the cryptic figure who stayed inside its walls - a servant whose presence appeared to oppose clarification. Some murmured that she was a phantom, sentenced to meander the corridors forever, while others guaranteed she was simply an isolated loner, favoring the isolation of the house to the organization of others. This is the bewildering story of the house cleaner of Willowbrook Estate and the mission to reveal the reality behind her character.
By Ashok2 years ago in Fiction
Chinna Kuthuru Shocking Tales
In the core of the country, India lies a failed-to-remember town by the name of Chinna Kuthuru. Concealed amid thick woods and fog-covered slopes, it harbors a mystery that has been murmured regarding for ages. Stories of ghastliness and the powerful have tormented the locals for quite a long time, passed down starting with one age and then onto the next like a dim legacy. In any case, as time walks on and advancement infringes upon antiquated customs, the narratives of Chinna Kuthuru risk blurring into a lack of definition, lost to the steady walk of progress. This is a brief look into the creepy fables and spine-chilling legends that have kept the residents of Chinna Kuthuru conscious around evening time, shuddering out of dread and anxiety toward the unexplored world.
By Ashok2 years ago in Fiction
Lessons From the Yeti
The dream starts the same as all my others have; I am searching for something. As I gaze into the mass of trees, I am filled with confidence, with the assurance that what I am looking for is hidden behind this green curtain. With my head down, careful of the intricate roots, I do not notice how the scenery changes until I see my breath suspended in the air. When I look up, I see snow covered ground, trees with sparkling highlights, and delicate flakes who fall only to get caught in my hair. I hear branches snapping and before me emerges a giant shape, seven foot tall with a curious face.
By Eve2 years ago in Fiction
Exploring Human Toxicity
In the vast canvas of human life, emotions, actions, and connections create a intricate picture. Sometimes, beneath the beauty of human interaction, hides a darker side—human toxicity. This story is about exploring this aspect, delving into our nature, and understanding the toxicity that influences our lives.
By M.Fiaz2 years ago in Fiction
The Power of the Love Letter
In the quiet corner of an old bookstore, Sarah often found herself seeking refuge among the rows of dusty shelves and the soft glow of antique lamps. The scent of aged paper and leather enveloped her like a familiar embrace, offering solace from the chaos of the outside world.
By M.Fiaz2 years ago in Fiction
Plastic . Top Story - February 2024.
I would look in the mirror and all I could see was this plastic shell. When I was a young girl, over time, I realized I had people pleased my way into or out of situations. At times, it would come off a bit flamboyant or overly enthusiastic in conversation, portraying a phony persona, all to make sure I didn’t disappoint someone. It’s not that my intentions were to ever forge, but to make sure I’m pleasing everyone around me.
By Natasha Collazo2 years ago in Fiction
Within Your Pages; My Dreams
Dear Journal, Hello, it has been some time, hasn't it? It is as you say, the previous year was agony, but as time marches on in that steady way that it does, I can't help but be pulled along its currents and look forward to the new horizons before me.
By Amanda Starks2 years ago in Fiction
submerged in honey
This is an excerpt from my novel, Moonchildren. Click here to read more. _____________________________ It wasn’t always like this, but trauma changes people. The responsibility of a middle child is to mediate and obey, and at some point, this becomes second nature. The oldest does everything first: learns to read, rides a bike, graduates - so that, by the time the second child completes these same things, no one is excited anymore. For four years after her birth, Anika was the youngest.
By choreomanias2 years ago in Fiction