Stream of Consciousness
A Mouse In The House
Walking into the kitchen one morning, I could smell something burning. There was a mouse whose tail was caught in the burner. I hollered for my husband. He arrived, took the mouse out of the fire, hit it on the head with a hammer. Damn you, Paul.
By Denise E Lindquist2 days ago in Fiction
The Roots and Water
Everyone knows that during a freeze you leave your faucets running so the pipes don’t burst. You keep your thermostat at 55 degrees Fahrenheit ,and close all your doors and windows. Stay indoors if you can. Wait for the city to salt the roads before trying to drive everywhere. Wait for EMS to pry the frigid bodies of the homeless that litter the city from the concrete of the sidewalks and underpasses.
By Stanley Davis4 days ago in Fiction
“Very Dark Times” OF USA
Ray Dalio Warns: The United States May Be Heading Into “Very Dark Times” Billionaire investor Ray Dalio has issued a stark warning: the United States may be heading into “very dark times.” His concerns are not based on short-term politics but on long-term historical patterns that have shaped the rise and fall of global superpowers.
By Wings of Time 6 days ago in Fiction
Never Say Finis
Samuel was through. He was over it all. Done. Kaput. Finis. He’d lost his job as an ad executive. His wife kicked him out of their home and moved a twenty-two-year-old kid in, who his children were now calling their second daddy. Plus, his car had blown up, forcing him to walk two miles to the nearest exit on the freeway. Now he was living in this roach-infested apartment in a crime-ridden neighborhood. Just last week, a thug had stolen his wallet. At thirty-six, he had nothing to look forward to anymore.
By Mother Combs6 days ago in Fiction
4:37 AM
With a long, exhausted blink, his glued eyes open. A couple more swift blinks followed by a resonating, endless yawn. Then, a sudden twitch, as if a thousand needles pierced his body. “What day is it?! Did I oversleep?!” The world hushed, and all he heard was the pulse of his heart drumming against his eardrums in a manic rhythm. With a still numb hand, he searched in the dark for his phone. Heavy breathing, strong palpitations, His hand picking up the pace. He lifted the blanket, tossed aside pillows, searching. Nothing. The air in the room thickened, and still, he didn’t know. Was it another dawn, or the mids of the night? For too long, his days and nights had blurred into a single, bleak darkness. Finally, he sees a black square resting on the white towel by his bed. His finger tapped the screen manically, and finally, it revealed the time: 4:37 in the morning. The drummer slowed down the beat, and all that fills the room is calming silence.
By George Roast6 days ago in Fiction
'Her' Synaesthesia
In the deep crevices of night, she was wakeful, clawing at the air struck beats of life. A deep trance overcame her, rippling its way through the endless, streaming lights of neon. Her body swelled and flowed, almost weightlessly, escaping the deep. grasping grooves of outstreched arms. She was estranged from this world, new yet unware of the way it pulsed or kicked.
By Susan L. Marshall6 days ago in Fiction
