Holiday

The Ghost on the Map: My 2,000-Mile Journey to a Paris That Isn’t There
If you type "Paris" into Google Maps, the algorithm will dutifully drop a pin on the City of Light. It will show you the winding Seine, the star-shaped sprawl of the Place de l’Étoile, and enough crêperies to feed a small army.
By George Evanabout a month ago in Fiction
The Lantern in the Fog
The fog settled over the village like a blanket soaked in silence. At first it was gentle, wrapping the streets in a quiet hush. But as night deepened, it thickened into something heavier, almost alive, crawling along the cobblestones and slipping into the cracks of every home. It was not the kind of fog that simply blurred the edges of things. This fog carried a chill that touched the marrow, a weight that pressed on the heart, and whispered doubts in voices that sounded eerily familiar.
By Sound and Spiritabout a month ago in Fiction
Eyes. Honorable Mention in Rituals of Affection Challenge.
I was seven years old the first time I got married. I remember the weight of the dress before I remember my own name. It was heavy and white and warm, like it had been waiting for me longer than I had been alive. The fabric pressed against my shoulders with a seriousness I did not yet understand. The room was filled with the aroma of flowers I couldn’t name, their scent thick and unfamiliar; and the walls seemed older than the building that held them as if the space itself had been borrowed for the occasion. There were people there. I remember that much. Their voices softened as I entered, the way voices do when something inevitable is about to happen. No one smiled too widely. No one whispered. They all seemed like a blurry memory; a background character of my story. I am even unsure of the season but I do know I wanted to hold onto the feeling and the intensity of the dream; and take it with me but I couldn’t remember everything once I woke up.
By Cadmaabout a month ago in Fiction
In the Dark
Icy blue eyes stared at me through the darkness. The fact that I could see these eyes so clearly in the darkness sent shockwaves up my eleven-year-old spine. I had just woken up from a rather intense nightmare, incidentally about some creep that was watching me at the foot of my bed. ‘’I can see you,’’ I whispered.
By DJ Robbinsabout a month ago in Fiction
You Promised This Would Be the Last Question
“You promised this would be the last question.” “I did.” “Then ask it.” “I already have.” “That wasn’t a question.” “It wasn’t?”
By Sound and Spirit2 months ago in Fiction
Don’t Read It Out Loud
“Is this yours?” “No.” “It was on the printer.” “I didn’t print anything.” “It doesn’t have a header.” “Let me see.” “Don’t touch it yet.”
By Sound and Spirit2 months ago in Fiction
This Isn’t the First Time You’ve Asked Me That
“Why are you looking at me like that?” “Like what?” “Like you’re waiting for me to say the wrong thing.” “I’m not.” “You are.”
By Sound and Spirit2 months ago in Fiction
You Said You’d Call If You Survived
“Hey. It’s me.” “I don’t know if this is even going to go through.” “The signal keeps dropping.” “I’m supposed to keep this short.”
By Sound and Spirit2 months ago in Fiction
Before You Leave
“Do you have everything?” “I think so.” “You think or you know?” “I know. Mostly.” “Mostly doesn’t help much when you’re already halfway out the door.”
By Sound and Spirit2 months ago in Fiction
Waiting Room
“Is this seat taken?” “No, go ahead.” “Thanks. It’s colder in here than I expected.” “They keep it that way.” “You come here often?”
By Sound and Spirit2 months ago in Fiction
The Morning Walk
“Did you see the sunrise today?” “Not really. I was half asleep.” “It was golden. Made me think we should get out earlier.”
By Sound and Spirit2 months ago in Fiction
The Name He Would Not Say
“Do you want to start where you usually start or where it hurts today.” “It all hurts. I just pick the one that hurts loudest.”
By Sound and Spirit2 months ago in Fiction