Top Stories

Stories in Psyche that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.

You Have To Love Yourself Above All
If I had to guess I’d say more people hate themselves than love themselves. Especially with social media addiction, which most of us have in some form or another.
By Patrick Meowlerabout a year ago in Psyche
Portrait of a Finder of Lost Things. First Place in Small Kindness Challenge.
During a youth basketball game in the early 1980’s, according to some physics I do not understand, my Rolex watch slipped from my wrist and fell beneath the bleachers. I didn’t even notice until after the game, when the announcer alerted the departing crowd to the lost watch. Cursing my lack of attention, I rushed to the scorer’s table to retrieve my precious timepiece. A five year old boy, exploring beneath the crowd’s feet, had found it, but I would never know this. Grateful for its return, but far too busy and important to actually offer thanks, I snatched the proffered watch from the scorekeeper without a word, or so much as a glance at the child, and departed. The boy’s mother commented on the rudeness of the exchange and assured him that such impoliteness was an exception to the norm.
By J. Otis Haasabout a year ago in Psyche
Faith in Humanity
Sharon nervously tapped on her knee as she waited for one of the employees to call her name. She tried to keep herself calm, to tell herself that it wouldn’t be that bad, that she just needed to be patient. But as the minutes passed, and other names were called instead of hers, Sharon was finding it harder and harder to do that.
By Rebecca Pattonabout a year ago in Psyche
Though I Do Not Know You
You could never know how much of a difference you made, how could you? Not until I made it clear, anyway. Two strangers. We never met, you don’t even know what I look like, or even my name. All I know of you is from your words and the picture you included. That is all.
By Elizabeth Butlerabout a year ago in Psyche
Heaven in the Voice Room
This will not be an official report. I will be keeping this in my private files. And I will remain anonymous. Mr. Defoe was one of the newer staff members, but he had already proven himself to be a very valuable asset at the school, covering for other absent teachers, finding lost files (actually discovered one behind a filing cabinet that was so old it was in one of the colours I had not seen in almost a decade), and creating his own lesson plans. With all of that work, the decision to put him in charge of our Voice Room seemed easy enough (the other teachers simply did not want the job, and he was too polite to say no).
By Kendall Defoe about a year ago in Psyche
You were blind, but now you see
Late. Always late. You curse your past self and the snoozed alarms, dashing across the street. Shirt untucked, cuffs loose, tie crammed into a half-shut briefcase, unbrushed hair caught in the wind.
By Joe O’Connorabout a year ago in Psyche
Seen
I was sitting there on the step, and she drove up in a big, dusty, red truck. I was surprised when she stepped down and walked right toward me, without even a little hesitation. She didn't look away like most folks -- not even the "look-away" thing they do like they are checking their purse or pocket, or like they see something in the other direction. No, she looked right at me, and smiled, saying "Hello!" like I was someone she knew.
By Leslie Stavenabout a year ago in Psyche
Keeping the Ticket
With the ticket in my hand, it felt like a diamond album. He had given it to me. Just right there with his medium brown hand into mine. I knew this was his only ticket and that he wouldn’t be able to go to Firefly. Just to grasp the ticket made me remember him forever. This was 2013. The festival would rise and swell with the rhythms and vibrations of the various bands and performers.
By Skyler Saundersabout a year ago in Psyche
The Journey
I had a long week at work. I just started a new job, and was surrounded by new faces. This company had their cliques, and I definitely didn't feel like I fit into any of them.
By Tressa Roseabout a year ago in Psyche
Pokémon Go-ing Gone. Content Warning.
As I came out of the library bathroom I collided with another library patron. I kept my head down, embarrassed, “sorry about that.”
By Amos Gladeabout a year ago in Psyche
Diary of an Auto-Immune Survivalist
Staring at the Midmark Ritter 204, the examination bed called to me. I craved its soft comfort and embrace. That pristine, crisp paper sheet of protective hygienic covering was what prevented me from making myself comfortable. I yearned to lie my body upon that tan leather table and relax my muscles and close my eyes, if only for a moment. The bed may as well have been encased in glass. The white parchment crumpled at the slightest touch, and lying upon it would crush and tear it to pieces. Disturbing it would be the evidence of the attention-seeking behavior that I was often accused of when seeing a new specialist. That paper stood between me and a few moments of desired rest.
By Chelas Montanye2 years ago in Psyche
Millennials Are Not Lazy
Picture this...you are driving your paid off Toyota Camry to home from work, you've put in a hard day's work of pushing papers, you had done your 9-5 working hours and you already know what to expect on Monday. You pull up to your driveway and park in the garage. You get home and dinner is already on the table the smell of fresh baked lasagna, it's your favorite meal. Your wife smiles as she sees you walking through the door, you kiss her and go upstairs and change into your non-work clothes. The children are called downstairs for dinner, and they come pouring down and hug their dad hello. You all sit down for dinner and hear about your wife's day and your children's day. You can't help but smile. Then after dinner, your bill for the mortgage comes in and your roll your eyes, but you pay it anyways, the electric bill is not bad, the gas bill also not bad, so you sit down and pay them off.
By Ada Zuba2 years ago in Psyche