Psychological

Kill Boksoon Movie Review
The first scene in "Kill Boksoon"—a stylish, if anti-climactic, fight to the death—should set viewers' expectations for this Korean mother/daughter assassin drama. The movie's title also serves as a nickname for the venerated hitwoman Gil Bok-soon (Jeon Do-Yeon), a single mom who now feels estranged from her teenage daughter Gil Jae-young (Kim Si-a). And in the opening scene, Bok-soon tries to set a good example for Jae-young, who will never know about this fight nor appreciate that her mother tried to be "fair" when she let a Japanese gangster attack her with his weapon of choice (a 400-year-old wakizashi sword).
By RICHARD3 years ago in Fiction
Romance: Two Strangers Meet on a Train During a Cross-Country Journey. Content Warning.
Introduction Welcome aboard this captivating journey where two strangers cross paths on a train and embark on an adventure that defies the boundaries of love, commitment, and the human spirit. In this article, we will delve into the enchanting tale of their encounter, as they share intimate stories, aspirations, and dreams, ultimately forming a profound connection that challenges their preconceived notions of romance and the power of human connection.
By ADITYA SALVE3 years ago in Fiction
One Night of Eden
I met Eden in the summer, "summer" being far too kind a word to describe the blistering Florida heat, peppered by weeks of torrential rain. In some sort of metaphorical way, it was the perfect season to learn a lesson. And Eden ground that lesson into me, swiftly and harshly, like the rain pounds the shoreline.
By Kelley Zherzhi3 years ago in Fiction
One More Step
There it was. The ship that crashed. Blazed the sky like a flaming rock and then fell somewhere in one of the many remote places of the planet.
By Mezei József Tibor3 years ago in Fiction
Minute by Minute. Top Story - December 2022.
This was it. The day that was circled in red on my calendar. I reluctantly opened my eyes after a restless night’s sleep, knowing what awaited me. Simple denial, procrastination, appeals to higher powers, none of it worked. This was my fate, and I had to accept it.
By Mark Gagnon3 years ago in Fiction
What I Did Before My Summer Vacation
It was all my fault. I saw her arm rise, bent and coming up fast, with the fingers tight in what looked like a claw more than a fist and her face was beyond tense. Like she knew what she had to do. I was happy about that because I thought that I deserved what ever she had to dish out, since I had been a dumbass for most of the year. She was only responding with anger to my mistakes, doing what I may have done (shoe and the other foot). At least we dated.
By Kendall Defoe 3 years ago in Fiction
Tongue Tide
I’ll never forget the TV anchorwoman’s words to the only survivor of the plane crash: “Please tell us, in your own words, what happened next.”
By Eric Wolf4 years ago in Fiction
The Signal. Content Warning.
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window… That candle was a signal, the place where the graduating class of 2012 was to gather for a party.
By Sam Spinelli4 years ago in Fiction
The Laundry Daze
“You didn't call me over a minute too soon," the kid announced. "This old girl, she's hurting.” “You talking about me?” whispered the older woman, standing behind Text begins him, in the cramped kitchen of the farmhouse. There was no malice in her words, even in her tone of voice, but to a stranger, like the young technician, this would have not been apparent — “I’m feeling as right as one can feel. If anyone’s in bad shape, it’s him. He creaks when he walks, he’s so ancient. You ever hear yourself creaking, Jud?”
By Eric Wolf4 years ago in Fiction
Masque of the Black Death. Content Warning.
Once upon a midnight dreary, as I sat lonesome and weary. I thought of all the events of the night before. My deepest fears now confirmed that I was to blame, of all the ones who have gone the same way before. Carrier of the disease, survivor that I am, immunity a blessing and a curse. On the day of Hypomone, the fall of Constantinople and the death of Constantine XI, so we celebrate the birth of the helpful, Ruin of the twenty first year. With décor and aesthetic of the macabre, beauty and of fear.
By Raine Fielder4 years ago in Fiction
Rong Is Wright
“I haven’t written a word in two years,” said Audley Ruan. To the cafe’s server, he ordered,“Chicken salad on rye, and a cup of chai,” before he pivoted back to face his mysterious companion. “Writer’s block, I can handle, but this—”
By Eric Wolf4 years ago in Fiction
Mundy, Mundi
One learns to be patient, after a time — no pun intended — toiling in the lower ranks of the Time Bureau. I was not blessed with a patient mind, nor with an altogether forgiving nature, as many an ex of mine can confirm, but I do toil, most loyally. I recall when my moment of opportunity arrived, and it did not arrive alone…
By Eric Wolf4 years ago in Fiction