Short stories of all genres
A blank page, a blinking cursor, and one tiny spark at 3:02 a.m. *This* could become a dystopian huntress, an old friend in Australia, or a broken-hearted poem. Instead, it becomes something far less predictable: a guided tour through the spectrum of creative chaos.
“Psst! Foxxfyrre, wake up,” Frugnup’s voice echoed sharply inside my skull. I blinked into the dark, groggy and disoriented. “Okay, I heard you. Wait… I heard you in English.” “Yes. My last probe of your mind taught me your language. I need your help.” “With what?” A heavy silence followed. Then, my vision was hijacked.
I really don’t know where to start… I mean… Well… I feel like I’ve lost my best friend. No, correction. I did lose my best friend. Give me a minute. Okay. They say it’s better if you just talk about it, but how can you put 50 years of devoted, unconditional love into just a
Chester and Finnigan: A Friendly Haunting It was my first bar shift. I’d already been working at the hotel for about eight months, but I had finally turned legal age to serve in the bar. The money was better, sure, but that wasn’t why I was excited. I was legal now—no more café waitering for
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Lixue and Salvatore April 11, 1918 My Dearest Lixue, Every day without you is agony. When I can close my eyes, all I see is you. When I wade through the trenches, gun and mortar fire all around me, I smell the sweet smell of lavender. A lavender that is you. I taste you, sweet
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