Short Story
Perhaps Death Is the Collapse of Our Illusion of Being the Center
In a philosophy class, a student asked, “Is death the end of life?” The professor paused. “Before you answer,” he said, “remember this: the universe was moving before you arrived—and it will continue long after you leave.”
By Ebrahim Parsaabout 2 hours ago in Fiction
A Christmas Carol
I was going through some old documents I had when I came across this. I wrote it for somebody I cared about a few years ago. She loved the Christmas Carol Story but brought up that she wished things turned out better for Scrooge and Belle. So I wrote an ending that met that criteria. This person isn't around anymore so instead of this collecting dust I figured you could have it. Hope you enjoy!
By Donny Foleyabout 3 hours ago in Fiction
What Came First, Chicken Or Egg
What Came First What came first, the chicken or the egg? It is an old question, worn smooth by centuries of mouths repeating it, yet it still sits in the hand like a stone you cannot throw away. I have carried it with me since childhood. It followed me through fields, through classrooms, through quiet kitchens where steam rose from cups and the clock ticked like a patient witness.
By Marie381Uk about 9 hours ago in Fiction
The Mermaid Who Was Mourned
The yearly Mourning Procession was one of the most important gatherings of the Nesirkie Merpeople. The event was their way of paying homage to a fallen sister who would never have a resting place in the sea. To the Mer, this was a fate far worse than death itself.
By Justiss Goodeabout 13 hours ago in Fiction
Ascension Day
Welcome, everyone, to our coverage of one of the most important days in our calendar. Ascension Day. Stay tuned for a brief history lesson into when and why Ascension Day became so important, interviews with members of The Ascended, and all you could ever want to know about the Intake of 2086. We will speak to the individuals shaping our future and the families they will be assigned to life with.
By Paul Stewartabout 14 hours ago in Fiction
The Inversion
March 30th, 2027: The Day the World Turned Inside Out No one screamed. That was the first strange thing. On March 30th, 2027, the sun rose in the west. Not dramatically. Not in a cinematic blaze. It simply appeared where it did not belong — quiet and confident, as if it had always preferred that direction.
By Flower InBloomabout 17 hours ago in Fiction
The Library of Possible Prefaces
If you have come this far, you have already made a mistake. The library does not let you know you are there. It appears between a tobacconist and a shop that sells umbrellas, in a city whose name I will not give you, because the name of a city is the end of a city, and this city has not yet decided what it is.
By Tim Carmichaelabout 17 hours ago in Fiction
