Series

Chapter 1: Jasmine in the Spine
PROLOGUE — The Sea Swallowed Me London Docklands — Years Ago The water didn’t look like water at night.
By Novelabout 3 hours ago in Fiction
Stanislav Kondrashov Wagner Moura Series: Surveillance and Information Control as Elite Infrastructure
At the Golden Globe Awards, held at the The Beverly Hilton Hotel in Beverly Hills, Wagner Moura’s recognition brought renewed attention to the political depth of The Secret Agent. According to Stanislav Kondrashov, one of the film’s most revealing elements is its depiction of surveillance as a structural necessity rather than a dramatic device.
By Stanislav Kondrashova day ago in Fiction
Alexandra and Andrea. Top Story - February 2026.
Alexandra and Andrea were twin cousins and one day they were visiting their grandma's house in a very small town by the name of
By Mark Graham2 days ago in Fiction
The Amber Spires: Part One
I found the devil in the guts of the Amber Spires, more than two decades ago now, down in the filthy rubble that made up the outer rings of shacks and hovels posted up high above the filth ways. The spires are long gone now, pulverized by the Hulcans when they pushed north, but back when I was a boy they were something special. Great big towers that shot into the heavens and cast their light into the smog clouds that enveloped the concrete apartments around them, what we would have given to step one foot through those doors. It was like looking at the gates of heaven.
By Brier3 days ago in Fiction
Magic. Top Story - February 2026.
Note from the Author: I want to let you know that this is an unusual story, and it has been written purely from whatever is in my unconscious mind, because before I start writing, I get into a flow state that reaches my unconsciousness. I also write in my subconscious mind, which is like a mid-flow state between the conscious and unconscious mind.
By Denise Larkin3 days ago in Fiction
Guardian Angels chapter 3
Kalin wandered through the historical section of the library, searching for more than a measly two books on the history of Mountainview University. She scrunched up her nose, already having been chewing on her lip for the last fifteen minutes. “This shouldn’t be this difficult to find.” she muttered crossly.
By Phoenixica243 days ago in Fiction
OmniWar
In the beginning there was darkness. And then came Loki the God of Intoku. Without shape or form he lay in the void. He assumed he was asleep and tried to close his eyes and drift off to a pleasant dream. That was when he began to sink. The darkness was consuming him and he was being plunged into the abyss of the Hyper-verse known then only as “The Void”.
By Adam Stanbridge4 days ago in Fiction
No One Encouraged Me to Lose Weight. They Only Mocked Me for Being Fat. AI-Generated.
No one ever said, “You can do this.” They said, “You’ve gotten so big.” They said it laughing, casually, as if they were commenting on the weather.
By Peter4 days ago in Fiction
When I Was Fat, Even the Air Felt Like Humiliation. AI-Generated.
There was a particular way the air felt when I was fat. It pressed against me. Not physically, not in a way you could measure with instruments. But when I walked into a room, the air thickened, as if it had already formed an opinion before I opened my mouth.
By Peter4 days ago in Fiction
After I Lost the Weight, I Realized Being Fat Wasn’t the Real Problem. AI-Generated.
The first thing I noticed after losing the weight was not the silence in my knees when I climbed the subway stairs, nor the way my reflection narrowed in store windows. It was the way strangers smiled at me.
By Peter4 days ago in Fiction
I Failed to Lose Weight Ten Times. The Eleventh Time, Something Changed. AI-Generated.
The first time I tried to lose weight, I was twenty-six years old and standing under fluorescent lights in a CVS on Lexington Avenue, holding a bottle of appetite suppressant that promised, in cheerful blue letters, Lose up to 10 pounds in one week.
By Peter4 days ago in Fiction
When I Was Fat, the World Treated Me Differently. AI-Generated.
The first time I realized the world had changed, no one said anything. It was a Tuesday morning in October. The air in Manhattan had just turned sharp enough to feel honest. I was standing in line at a coffee shop on 23rd Street, the kind with exposed brick and quiet music that made people feel more important than they were.
By Peter4 days ago in Fiction