Karl Jackson
Bio
My name is Karl Jackson and I am a marketing professional. In my free time, I enjoy spending time doing something creative and fulfilling. I particularly enjoy painting and find it to be a great way to de-stress and express myself.
Stories (334)
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🪑 The Chair by the Window
The chair arrived without ceremony. It was wooden, straight-backed, and old enough to creak when the weather changed. The delivery man placed it by the window because there was nowhere else to put it, then left without comment. Mara stood in the middle of her apartment, arms folded, wondering why she had agreed to take it at all.
By Karl Jackson2 months ago in Humans
🗺️ The Salt of the World
When the wells turned bitter, the elders argued for three days before admitting the truth. Water still flowed, but it no longer nourished. Crops withered despite rain. Animals drank and wandered away confused. Children complained that soup tasted like dust. The land was thirsty for something deeper than moisture.
By Karl Jackson2 months ago in Fiction
The Long Way Back 🕊️
Jonah Reed learned the weight of his past the day his hands started shaking for no clear reason. He was forty-seven, standing in line at a quiet grocery store, staring at a display of apples arranged with unnecessary precision. Nothing was wrong. Nothing was happening. And yet his chest felt tight, his palms slick, his breath shallow. He left his basket where it was and walked out into the cold air, heart hammering like he’d been caught doing something terrible.
By Karl Jackson2 months ago in Fiction
🕶️✨ The Invitation No One Was Supposed to See
Arden wasn’t the sort of person who received mysterious envelopes. Their life was the steady kind, measured in quiet mornings, safe routines, and a deep commitment to avoiding anything that smelled even remotely like trouble. They worked at a modest historical archive where the wildest excitement might be the discovery of a mislabeled folio from 1912 or a researcher asking to stay past closing.
By Karl Jackson2 months ago in Fiction
💔🌙 When the World Tilted Sideways 🌙💔
There are certain losses that don’t arrive with thunder or drama. They drift in quietly, like night fog swallowing familiar roads, leaving you unsure where the edges are. Losing a soulmate feels like that kind of darkness. It’s not just losing a person. It’s losing a translation of yourself that only they ever understood. This is the story of a person who walked through that shattering moment the moment the universe blinked and someone irreplaceable fell out of it.
By Karl Jackson2 months ago in Humans
The Room Where She Wasn’t Supposed to Hear 🌒👂
Lina Keller never thought of herself as the type people whispered about. She drifted through life with the soft-footed grace of someone who always tried not to take up too much space. At work she blended in quietly but efficiently. In friendships she offered more listening than speaking. In her own mind she was pleasant and polite and forgettable in a harmless way.
By Karl Jackson2 months ago in Fiction
🌙 I Want the Best for You
There are moments in life that glide in so quietly you barely notice them at first. Then one day you turn around and realize they’ve rearranged the entire architecture of your heart. That was you for me. You slipped into my world without fireworks or grand entrances, just this steady presence that felt like a warm chair pulled up close in winter. And maybe that’s why it took me so long to recognize what was happening. You never demanded attention. You simply held it.
By Karl Jackson2 months ago in Fiction
The Friend I Tried (and Failed) to Hide 🌑🕊️
I’ve always lived my life like it came with instruction manuals. I follow rules, I read labels, I sort my socks by color. If you’d asked my family to describe me, they would’ve said words like dependable and organized and maybe just a little too predictable.
By Karl Jackson2 months ago in Fiction
🔄 The Habit My Old Self Would Never Believe
If someone had told the old me — the version who lived on autopilot, who avoided change like it was a contagious illness, who clung to comfort zones like they were lifelines — that one day I’d be the kind of person who woke up before sunrise on purpose, I would’ve laughed so hard I’d choke on my own disbelief.
By Karl Jackson2 months ago in Fiction
🌅 When My Certainty Broke Open
There are days when you wake up feeling carved out of conviction. Like every thought in your head has solidified overnight into something unshakeable. That was me. I rolled out of bed wrapped in one fierce belief, and it marched beside me like an impatient shadow.
By Karl Jackson2 months ago in Fiction
🌩️ The Storm I Thought I Understood 🌤️
I walked into that day carrying a conviction so heavy it almost had a heartbeat. You know the kind. The belief that feels welded to your bones. The sort you would argue for even if the ground dissolved beneath you. Mine was simple.
By Karl Jackson2 months ago in Fiction
⚖️ The Trial of Nothing at All 🕳️
The summons arrived like a bad omen. Folded into a crisp white envelope, slipped under Rowan’s apartment door sometime between the dawn traffic and the neighbor’s dog barking at ghosts. The paper was heavy, official, the kind that made your stomach flip even before you read a single word. At the top, in blocky lettering that looked far too confident in itself, were the words:
By Karl Jackson2 months ago in Fiction
