Stream of Consciousness
Uncertainty
The crack of dawn arrives; the sun beams through the curtain gap, with the wish that the light brings unceasing hope so my heart sees pass the shadow that clouds it. Yet time moves softly, swiftly, silently slipping through my grasp...seeking to find:
By Pau in Motion4 months ago in Writers
The Last Walk
I stand in a room unfamiliar to me, it is very cloudy I feel. I can not make sense of the shapes. My grandfather stands before me, Baxter. I remember he has recently passed, and this is still true to me. I convince myself that his soul has somehow re-entered his body with new vigor, a straight back and wearing his grey suit. This confuses me though; I swear we buried his ashes.
By Brett Gill4 months ago in Writers
Eulogy of a Dream
I was standing in my Grandmother's kitchen, my Father’s Mother. It was as it normally is; bright and welcoming. A glossy white oven ebbed with warmth. Natural daylight seeped in through the windows that were thoughtfully placed on either side. The house itself was built by my grandfather; his hands rough, built a place so soft; a home. I hadn’t thought much of my sudden presence there. I had no notion that this was merely a dream... yet.
By Brett Gill4 months ago in Writers
Am I Anyone's Favorite Writer?. Top Story - October 2025.
Someday, you’re going to be someone’s favorite author. --Lucia Franco With the posting of my drabble “The Invasion” (link below), I hit 250 stories published on Vocal. I know that it should be a time of celebration for me. After all, that’s a lot of stories! Surely, I should be proud of myself. However, I find myself reflecting on my past three years on Vocal and wondering how I could have done better and, more importantly, if I have made an impact with any of my stories.
By Stephanie Hoogstad4 months ago in Writers
Recitation
I love reciting this poem. For me, there’s a glimmer of sadness embedded in the sardonic wit, and there’s also a small epiphany within it for me, in the line “thewoman wasnot/quite Fourteen till she smiled/then/Centuries.” There’s an acknowledgment of feminine wisdom and knowledge that’s generally lacking in masculine poetry, and there’s something in her value being double that of the room. I, of course, know she’s worth much more than that. There’s also something else in that six for me outside of dollars, an echo of Persephone’s pomegranate seeds perhaps, or maybe some other allusion I can’t articulate, but this poem does what poetry should do—it makes me look at things differently
By Harper Lewis4 months ago in Writers
Tunnel Vision
I had this fleeting thought when I was sitting at my go to cafe sipping my coffee wannabe since I only order half the espresso shot and a huge cup of milk to overpower how it tastes trying to get some work done .. What spiked the idea was (not to your surprise) if you’re a regular guest here is Absolutely music . I had my airpods on and shuffled through spotify to find the right song for the moment because the people chatters was louder than the speakers on , it wasn’t until I paused for a sec that I heard “Riptide” blasting through the speakers and realised I have missed my fav verse in one of my fav songs ever , it’s “there’s this movie that i think you’ll like, this guy decides to quit his job and heads to new york city“ if you were wondering .. sorry for wasting your time if you don’t care about that tho . That’s a bit dramatic huh ? ‘heavily sighing‘ … Well to my luck we have music streaming apps now, I can replay it whenever I want. But what about the things we don’t get a second chance at ? no re-dos, no another attempt or better luck next time you idiot. ? You see ummm .. the problem here is always one thing or the other, it’s either that we think we know it all , we have it figured out ,we know that this and only this is what we want blah blah bleh, OR! that we know nothing at all.
By Daisy Evermore4 months ago in Writers
