Psychological

How to Save Your Own Life. Runner-Up in Instructions Included Challenge.
Take a drink to feel the burn one last time. Take another because the first didn't hit hard enough. Fuck it. Might as well keep going.
By Faith M Adamabout a month ago in Fiction
Desparate Attempts. Content Warning. AI-Generated.
The Failed Writer Aro was born into poverty. His father died young, leaving behind debts and a cracked house where rain leaked through the ceiling. His mother—frail, aging, and slowly losing herself to dementia—was all he had left.
By REalLLy225about a month ago in Fiction
Pebbling
She woke to the soundless glow of her phone. It lay face down on the nightstand, but the screen had lit itself sometime before dawn, a thin bar of light leaking onto the wood. She rolled onto her side and reached for it, careful not to wake him. His breathing was steady, the shallow rise and fall of his chest familiar enough that she could tell what part of sleep he was in by sound alone.
By Jesse Leeabout a month ago in Fiction
Aristotle and the Student of Logic.
🌀 Aristotle’s Logic… Gone Delightfully Haywire Aristotle stood beneath the olive tree, stroking his beard with the serene confidence of a man who believed the universe could be tamed by syllogisms... That it could be schooled by reasoning in which conclusions are drawn from two premises, with a common or middle term being present in the premises...but not in the conclusion.
By Novel Allenabout a month ago in Fiction
The Weight of Loving What Would Not Stay
Prose Poetry By Anees Ul Ameen I began carrying ghosts long before I knew how to name them. They arrived quietly, dressed as memories, pretending to be harmless. I let them in because loneliness has a way of mistaking familiarity for safety. Each one took a corner of my chest and rearranged it without asking.
By aneesabout a month ago in Fiction
The Devil's Cut . Top Story - January 2026.
“Comrade, finally you’re awake.” The voice was smooth, sensual. A flickering incandescent bar was all that lit the white, sterile room. All Vladimir remembered was everything going black. He tried to move his arms and found them strapped to the gurney.
By Matthew J. Frommabout a month ago in Fiction
I Never Stopped Loving Him—Even After I Died
From the other side, love doesn’t fade. It waits. By Anees Ul Ameen I remember the moment I died. Not the impact. Not the pain.
By aneesabout a month ago in Fiction
Still in High School and Afraid
“I don’t know what to do.” “You will know; you will know. It’s early, stay calm.” “How will I know? This is so frightening. We are the class of ’63, with 4 months to graduation. I’m scared to death.”
By Andrea Corwin about a month ago in Fiction
What Followed
“You’re still using that cup?” “Well, it hasn’t cracked yet.” “It always did that, though. Right there, along the rim. That little bit of flaking paint. See?”
By Shannon Hilsonabout a month ago in Fiction
All the Things We Almost Made
INTERNAL CORRESPONDENCE Department of Lost Ideas Quarterly Report: Q3, Fiscal Year Indeterminate Filed by: Archivist 82 (Juniper)
By Shannon Hilsonabout a month ago in Fiction
Second Shadow
I noticed it by accident, which is how most bad ideas introduce themselves. I was cutting through the square at lunch, phone in one hand, iced coffee sweating down my wrist. The sun was a bully, straight up, no cloud cover, every edge of everything carved into the pavement. I walked past the sundial because I like proof that time is meaningful in more than one medium.
By Milan Milicabout a month ago in Fiction
Instructions for Returning to a Place That No Longer Exists. Runner-Up in Instructions Included Challenge.
I. Purpose of This Document These instructions exist because return has been explicitly requested. Please note that they are not an endorsement of the request, nor should their existence be interpreted as confirmation that return is advisable, safe, or even possible in any way commonly understood. This document addresses procedure only.
By Shannon Hilsonabout a month ago in Fiction