The Way of the World
By Jessiibear
The harsh reality.
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- 1143 reads
Abigail
This story is a daring move... An old short I wrote years ago. Have changed the tense and POV.
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- 19 comments
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- 6304 reads
Davy Jones' Locker
We all find comfort in different forms. Which steals us from reality.
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- 3 comments
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- 1219 reads
Searching You
Something I whipped up.
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- 6 comments
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- 2358 reads
Inevitable
Kate has no voice, so she tries to solve her problems differently. Her fate, however, is inevitable.
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- 4 comments
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- 1384 reads
Mental Illness
No one likes it. So you keep quiet. You keep quiet until you explode. And when that happens, oh boy are you in for a hell of a treat. Can you breathe...
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- 10 comments
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- 6398 reads
Dearest Catastrophe
You never think something like this will happen to you-- Then it does.
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- 2 comments
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- 961 reads
Tug of War
Our rope strains. Snaps in half. A table toppled. A dealt deck, confetti. An 80s record wrecked; a silent song. Your brain is a towel, wringing out...
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- 3 comments
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- 764 reads
Can We Bleed?
They deliver you to the door of our shimmer-glass home, your blank face, custom companion molded from his. Same lips. Same laugh. But your voice— it...
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- 6 comments
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- 743 reads
Pyre Bits
I lay down slow, my bones like wax— and wish you’d lay yours beside me, in the fire pit. Flame would claim us, erase our tracks— while strangers sing...
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- 2 comments
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- 248 reads
She Sleeps
The night I got robbed, I couldn’t move. I was 18, youngest one in the shelter, lying on the smoking bench out back. I’d come in late with too many...
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- 5 comments
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- 494 reads
The Last Customer
The diner was nearly empty, the kind of dead quiet that only came after midnight—booth lights dimmed to amber, pie case humming softly in the back...
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- 8 comments
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- 996 reads
To Tell You The Truth — Part 1/2
You were somebody once. Awards, panels. Interviews that felt more like coronations. You told other people’s life stories better than they could...
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- 2 comments
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- 70 reads
To Tell You The Truth — Part 2/2
The next week, you leave the TV on for background noise and sit at the kitchen table, waiting. She’s late. You tell yourself it’s just traffic. Or...
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- 4 comments
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- 70 reads