Fable
Fishing at the Edge of the World
I was disappointed when I caught a star-tinged guppy at the edge of the Earth. A space whale, or at least something bigger than my hand, would have been nice to show my village. But that’s not how the day went, and looking back, I should have been thankful I didn’t die out there. I was young and naïve, thought I could do it all alone. Boy, was I wrong.
By Melodramatic Maladies of the Mystical Mind3 months ago in Fiction
When the Bones are Good
The door was heavier than I remembered, but the hinges were weak with rust. I leaned in, my body pressed up against the frame and shoved. I stumbled into the room clumsily, gripping the knob still so as not to crash down to the floor. There were tiles missing in the linoleum, and the white, floral white paper had taken on a dingy yellow stain.
By Theresa M Hochstine3 months ago in Fiction
Cellar Of Dreams
Introduction This tale was first inspired by the Volkov image, and as I was putting this together, I had put a Silencers album on the player, and the absolutely gorgeous "Cellar Of Dreams" came on, and I knew it was a perfect accompaniment for my story.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 3 months ago in Fiction
The Silence on Hawthorne Street.. AI-Generated.
It was the kind of evening that made people lock their doors a little tighter. Rain had been falling steadily since morning, slicking the streets and coating the sidewalks in a reflective sheen. James Whitaker pulled his coat tighter around his shoulders and walked slowly down Hawthorne Street, the collar brushing the back of his neck. His footsteps echoed in the otherwise empty street, the sound swallowed almost instantly by the rhythm of raindrops hitting the pavement.
By William Ebden.3 months ago in Fiction
The Clockmaker’s Promise
M Mehran Everyone in the quiet town of Eldenbrook knew Elias Thorn, the old clockmaker whose shop stood at the corner of Willow Street. The windows were always fogged with dust and time, and the shelves were filled with clocks—grandfather clocks, pocket watches, delicate sand timers, and curious contraptions no one had names for.
By Muhammad Mehran3 months ago in Fiction
The Lantern Maker of Lyria
M Mehran Lyria was a town that did not sleep. Even at midnight, its narrow cobblestone streets glowed with strings of paper lanterns—blue for peace, yellow for hope, white for healing, and red for courage. But the most beautiful lanterns, the ones people whispered about, came from the workshop at the very edge of the riverbank, where an old woman named Sera lived.
By Muhammad Mehran3 months ago in Fiction
The Beach Woman
Many years ago the world was divided in two; the beach people and the city people. The beach people kept to themselves and respected the Gods and balance of nature. The city people were modern and had refused to respect the balance of nature and had evolved into selfish beings that only cared about what they could take and use for themselves. The beach people and the city people did not align so they agreed to never cross paths until—The Beach Woman.
By Sincerely, Selaiha 3 months ago in Fiction
Letters from Nova — The Last Echo of Time. AI-Generated.
Letter I — The First Spark My dearest Alaric, I remember the first moment our eyes met — the world stood still. You didn’t notice it, but the rain outside froze midair. I felt the seconds hesitate, waiting for you to breathe again. That’s when I realized — you weren’t just a man who fixed clocks. You were a man who made time feel.
By shakir hamid3 months ago in Fiction
