Mystery

The myth of the Wailing Woman
The fog in the Holston River Valley never just sits; it breathes. It fastens to the hemlocks like wet wool, and when it thins, it reveals things the locals have spent two centuries trying to make sense of.
By Tim Carmichaelabout an hour ago in Fiction
The Substance
I stepped out on my porch, the rays of the sun beating against the window beckoning me to come outside. The warmth from the morning sun felt comforting but there was something off about the air. Like a storm approaching. I looked up. The sky had a strange hue to it. An odd shade of pink and grey coming together to make a color that's hard to describe. A color you didn't think could exist.
By Jasmine Aguilarabout 2 hours ago in Fiction
When Silence Was Whole
Flower InBloom writes at the threshold where myth meets nervous system and spirit meets structure. This piece is not a cosmology to believe in, but a remembering to feel into. If something in you softened while reading, that is the field recognizing itself.
By Flower InBloomabout 2 hours ago in Fiction
Magic
I am back to the story once again. Clara has sat down to continue because I have told her to. She sits at her computer, fingers poised over the keyboard. I gather my senses, ready to dictate.
By Denise Larkinabout 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 George’s Girl 2026 a day ago in Fiction
THE WATER NEVER CAME FROM ANYWHERE
It started with the ankles. By 8:30 a.m., the water in the kitchen was ankle-deep. Claire noticed it when she stepped out of the hallway and into something cold.
By Lori A. A.a day 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 InBlooma day ago in Fiction
“The Day the Sky Turned Red”
The sky turned red on a Tuesday. Not the soft orange of sunset. Not the pink blush of early morning. It was red like something bleeding into the air. Thick. Heavy. Wrong.
By Fawad Ahmada day ago in Fiction
The Forgetting Room. AI-Generated.
Dr. Sarah Chen stood in the doorway of Room 447, her hand trembling on the cold metal handle. The hospital corridor stretched behind her, fluorescent lights humming their eternal song. She'd been avoiding this room for three weeks, ever since the accident that had stolen eighteen months of her memory.
By Alpha Cortexa day ago in Fiction
The Mundane Murders
It was a small town in Massachuttes, named Seaside, where the waves broke on the shores of this coastal town which was nestled between two larger cities. It seemed quiet for the most part, but there was darkness looming in the salty air, of this otherwise righteous town.
By Susan Payton2 days ago in Fiction
Reverse rendition.
everyone knows that the mafia is a criminal organization, and if you go into a mafia run neighborhood in New York you will notice that it is almost crime free. It is a safe neighborhood to live in. The mafia looks after its own. Which leads me to think about the country, the United States of America. It’s their country as well, and with all the craziness happening in the country with the last administration allowing open borders, letting millions of unvented, undocumented immigrants to enter illegally, and activist liberal judges refusing to hold criminals liable for their crimes, and liberal activist District Attorneys refusing to prosecute criminals, and traitorous congressmen and women/senators not supporting legislation to protect this country it is just a matter of time that they will start policing their own neighborhood from all these traitorous officials. In this case the neighborhood in question is the entire country.They live here too. If the conservatives can’t protect the people adequately, maybe they can. So when a traitorous judge who let a criminal illegal alien go free vanished from her home one day, with out a trace, I started thinking. Who could have done this, and why. No ransom note was given, no one claimed responsibility. And then a traitorous congresswoman disappeared, from Minnesota. She was a foreign born National and didn’t appear to even like America. Her only loyal constituents were foreign born nationals now living here, and on government assistance, sucking on the tit of the country’s welfare system. And she became a multi millionaire in the process. Again, no ransom note, investigation by the FBI could not discover any leads as to who was responsible. And quite frankly, they didn’t care. Nor did the Secret Service detail assigned to her. She just vanished. Good riddance, was the general consensus. Then another traitorous lawmaker disappeared with no leads as to how or by whom. Another foreign born national, another America hater. Almost no one cared. The liberal lawmakers and activists started to worry, would they be next? They started to retire, or didn’t run in the next election. Judges started following the sentencing guidelines. DA’s started prosecuting criminals. Sanctuary cities and states stopped their liberal activist policies. Some liberals kept on doing their craziness, and every once in awhile one would vanish, with no explanation or leads to investigate. The main stream fake news screamed and blamed the conservatives in a conspiracy rant, until one of them disappeared as well, and then they were silent. The left became scared, and paranoid. And became silent. Things started becoming normal and rational again, with common sense policy being passed in the legislature with no obstruction by the radical left.
By Guy lynn2 days ago in Fiction
Unto The Child
I never knew what to say, so eventually I stopped saying anything. People accepted my silence so easily, as if they had forgotten they had ever heard my voice. Since I could reply, there was no need to hear the endless voices around me. I shut them out and met conversation and connection with silence and vacant stares. It didn’t take long for people to accept that, too. I was alone in the world, like a moving art piece. People saw me and moved along, recognizing I was not one of them. Understand without knowing that I couldn’t contribute on any level to the lives they were leading.
By Leah Suzanne Dewey2 days ago in Fiction