Stream of Consciousness

The Old Man's Cold
The old man trudged through the thick snow, his bones aching with every step. He cursed his stubbornness as he made his way towards the cabin, the only shelter for miles.
By M2 years ago in Fiction
Red
They used to call this place White Palace. As he enters through the grand entrance, a feeling of deja vu hits him as if he has an old familiarity– something between hatred and love– with the floor and walls of the foyer. Ignoring all the discordant feelings that this place induces in him, he walks towards the ballroom. The hallways that accompany him on his trip are like the familiar houses of a memory lane. The ballroom hasn’t changed since his last presence in it. It reeks and feels of that retro feeling, the one which he most definitely can't ignore, consisting of an enchanting encounter, a delightful dance and tragic tragedies. He wears nostalgia as a midnight blue and a well-tailored suit– the same as last time.
By Mahd Ali2 years ago in Fiction
Darkness Digging In Deep
Alas, I can hold my peace no longer. I have been stuck in this deary darkness set upon me by the collapse of the underworld below my feet. Little did we all know that this day would be the one that captures me by my ankle to drag me down to a world so far away from home, and all for just a simple bit of adventure. It was going to be so perfect for our little stroll after so many days apart from the outside world, yet here I am sitting alone in the dark with more of it than I can take.
By Toby Heward2 years ago in Fiction
Echoes of Harmony
In the heart of the Whispering Woods, where ancient trees swayed gently to the wind's song and mysterious creatures roamed in the shadows, lay a hidden kingdom known as Evergreenia. Its forests were lush and its lakes shimmered under the sun, all protected by an ancient spell woven to keep it safe.
By M.Fiaz2 years ago in Fiction
To kill Samsa. Top Story - February 2024.
Shut in a company’s bathroom, I stare at myself in the mirror. “You’re solid rock,” the reflection says, “but you’re having one of those. This is what a panic attack feels like.”
By M.2 years ago in Fiction
The Moment. Top Story - February 2024.
And there goes another. Magic doesn't work the way you think. I am here. We are here. Those moments, those opportunities, those insights. Choices. Decisions.
By Meredith Harmon2 years ago in Fiction
The Call Of The Elders
Once upon a time, in the city of Eldoria, there lived a man named Garret. He was a humble blacksmith, toiling each day in the sweltering heat of his forge, crafting tools and weapons for the townsfolk. Garret had grown bitter and disillusioned, for despite his earnest efforts, he remained trapped in the cycle of poverty, his dreams and ambitions thwarted by the cruel hand of fate.
By mazen mo2 years ago in Fiction
Martin and Malcolm
If Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and Malcolm X were never assassinated I would like to think a meeting between the two to discuss working together for the future would have went something like this…
By Joe Patterson2 years ago in Fiction
Midnight Burning. Top Story - February 2024.
The midnight sun burned me up; I was up lingering in the faded ember of her deep, ravishing smile. That grand old time where I was truly alive. When my world was blanketed, coated, covered.
By Melissa Ingoldsby2 years ago in Fiction
Snow Forest
The snow fell softly, like an array of small feathers engulfing the sounds of nature. The dense woodland was eerily quiet as River took her first step, sinking into the light, powdery snow. Peace encumbered her, and a wave of calm swept over the entire forest. Step after step, the woods swallowed her. If she hadn't a sense of direction, you could say she was lost. But she knew these woods, she's walked their paths many times. She was home.
By Kendra J. Anthony2 years ago in Fiction
Snow
I was flung from one side of the container to the next. My body banged against the thin nylon of the bag and crashed into some type of jar containing many fragrant beads. The throbbing in my head was only eased by remembering her smile as she ate those round pebbles. What was the term she called it? Coffee! Yes, that’s it, I thought triumphantly.
By Isabella Rose2 years ago in Fiction
The Snowman and Me
I sat watching the snowman melt through my window. Every day, I checked to see if he was still there, holding fast. Today, his hat had fallen crooked. His middle torso drooped like sagging shoulders, but his eyes remained firm. His stare resonated through me. I couldn’t help but feel connected somehow, but I couldn’t place the feeling. The glass fogged, and I wiped the mist with my palm for one blurry last look. It’s much warmer indoors, but I couldn’t help but feel like maybe we were both melting. It feels like that sometimes. No matter how much you try to remain strong and steady, the world melts it all away.
By Simon George2 years ago in Fiction