Latest Stories
Most recently published stories on Vocal.
The Gels of My Life: A Ritual of Survival and Strength
Sitting here in Paris, watching the rain wash the city streets, I am struck by how much of our lives we spend trying to stay clean—not just on the outside, but within. The water hits the limestone buildings of this ancient city, and I think about the layers we apply to ourselves to withstand the weather of life. In a world of clinical solutions and quick fixes, I realized that my survival has been a series of rituals. I call them the "gels" of my life.
By Magma Star25 days ago in Journal
Things nobody tells you about being an adult.. Content Warning.
Things Nobody Tells You About Being an Adult There are a lot of things adults forget to tell you when you’re growing up. When you’re a kid, adults act like adulthood is some magical level you unlock where suddenly you know everything. Like one day you wake up, your credit score appears over your head like a video game stat, and you suddenly know how taxes work.
By Dakota Denise 25 days ago in Confessions
The True Fight against Crime Begins in the Human Conscience
Every society searches for ways to fight crime through laws, institutions, and systems of justice. Yet one essential truth is often overlooked: the real battle against crime begins long before a courtroom or a police investigation.
By A.Petrovski25 days ago in Criminal
Frances Swiney. Content Warning.
Pioneer of Feminist Thought and Spiritual Reform The final decades of the nineteenth century and the early years of the twentieth century marked a period of profound transformation. Industrial expansion reshaped cities and economies, while scientific discoveries—from Darwinian evolution to advances in medicine—challenged traditional beliefs about human nature and the natural world. Political unrest, labor movements, and debates over social justice created an atmosphere in which long-standing institutions and hierarchies were called into question. Within this climate of change, societies across Europe and North America saw the rise of movements demanding reforms in education, workers’ rights, and political representation.
By Marcus Hedare25 days ago in BookClub
For Real--The Interview
Resume’ in hand, I walked into the building fifteen minutes ahead of my interview time. I noticed the foyer is empty. It is a grand space with a coffee stand located on the left and a reception counter on the right. An enormous fireplace from the ground floor to the top of the second floor towered over me. A railing above revealed a lounge on the second floor. No one is around. No one is behind the counter either. I see a sign in book. It has large shaky signatures. I look to the top to see this is for “The Residents”. To think, I had almost signed in the wrong book. Glad no one was looking. I gazed around and found a closed book to the far right lying flat on top of the gleaming black marble. I almost missed it because the book was also black. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw it was labeled “Visitors”. I opened the book, and with pen in hand, found the last page so that I could sign in. There were no available slots left to sign in. I felt the odd presence of eyes. I felt as though someone was watching me. I looked around, still no sign of a human in sight. I couldn’t shake that feeling. Perplexed, I decided to add a line to the bottom of the page and neatly followed the pattern of the line above to sign in. I closed the book and placed the pen down. I saw a chair by a fireplace in the center of the grand foyer. That seemed like a good place to sit while I waited the next 12 minutes. It would certainly be within earshot. So, I sat down. I placed the resume’ in my lap and neatly folded my hands together. I felt a little conspicuous. I shifted in my seat to make sure I had good posture and crossed my ankles, slightly adjusting both knees to the left and ankles to the right. I could hear and see no one. Yet, I had the unmistakable sense of someone nearby. I looked around. I sniffed the air. I listened so that I could hear a pin drop. Nothing. I gazed at my arms extending beyond the suit sleeves. The hairs stood up. It wasn’t particularly cold in the room, but it was clear that my senses were on overdrive. Time ticked on, slowly, ever so slowly. Agonizing—time ticked on.
By Mary Catherine Watson25 days ago in Fiction
