WinterMuteApr 30, 2025
#short_story #fiction
nouvelle publication sur Substack : première nouvelle d'une série de 4 sur la simulation.
https://dr00ne.substack.com/p/simulation-01-activation
Simulation 01 : Activation

Il l’a fait.

Le Substack de drone
Jan SandstormOct 22, 2024

#introduction

Hi,
I am Jan.

This year I quit my job to free up time for a learning journey: #art, #music and #writing.

Now hoping to connect with learning journey "travel companions" (or just anyone sharing similar interests).

I play the #guitar but would like to get better in both playing and #composing. With regards to visual art and writing I am more of a complete beginner: #comics, #short_story #poetry #painting #photo

Looking forward to check this platform out and to meet you all!

Robert KJun 4, 2024

https://rkegel825.medium.com/kill-the-dream-dcd62df6c2c8

#writing #short_story #horror #reacurring_dream #nightmare #bloodandgore

Kill the Dream - Robert Kegel - Medium

James Ripley pressed the help button from his hospital bed over and over, but there was no answer, so he started yelling for help. He saw he was in a hospital, but he didn’t know why or how he got…

Medium
 Hacker NewsMay 6, 2024
Daniel Dennett: 'Where Am I?'
https://thereader.mitpress.mit.edu/daniel-dennett-where-am-i/
#ycombinator #Philosophy #Science_Fiction #Short_Story
Daniel Dennett: 'Where Am I?'

Dennett's classic story raises deep philosophical questions about identity and consciousness.

The MIT Press Reader
ZunekixApr 17, 2024

Are you in the mood for a tantalizing tale? Behold, a narrative crafted to titillate your literary taste buds! Consider it a hors d'oeuvre before the feast of stories yet to come.

Step aside, traditional tales! "Beyond the Red Cloak" is my cheeky spin on Little Red Riding Hood. Brace yourself for a romp through the woods like you've never experienced before. It's a tale so wild, even the Big Bad Wolf might have to rethink his tactics!

https://zunekix.square.site/my-stories

#ShortStories #story #short_story

The TypescriptSep 13, 2023
“Couples,” by Olga Stein
More than a decade has passed since the events I’m about to recount took place. It’s important to state this at the outset because the early 2000s seem like a different world. It was possible then not to know things. It was conceivable that a writer could ‘borrow’—ideas, even characters—without committing a theft, and without stepping uninvite
https://thetypescript.com/couples-by-olga-stein/
#ArtsAndLiterature #Fiction #fiction #literature #short_story #story
Show threadThe Ghost of ÉmilieMar 3, 2022
@lydiaconwell

#writing #writersblock #fiction #short_story

Writers block is...

"

The beach was beautiful, our car was driving along the coastline. We were almost to the town, when we saw something happening below on the beach. We couldn't tell what it was, but it looked like the shadows of two people fighting. We heard screaming and sand and mud being kicked up.

Dad parked the car on the side of the road, and started walking over. We watched him fade into shadow under the sunset.

It took him two minutes to walk there, but eventually we saw he was close enough to talk to them.

They stopped, and looked at him.

We couldn't really hear what was being said. It sounded like dad was asking a question. They didn't respond, and a minute passed where dad kept asking questions.

Then both figures suddenly suddenly got down on all fours, and ran at dad.

Mom screamed as they tackled him to the ground and started biting into him.

Mom ran to help. We begged her not to go, Maisie and me, but we couldn't stop her.

The car was left running, doors open, with the lights on.

Maisie and I watched as mom ran up to two shadowy figures, and was then tackled the same way.

The figures were occupied eating our parents... We cried together, as it faded to nighttime. Once it started getting too dark to see, I told Maisie to get in the car. I got in the driver's seat, and Maisie got in the front passenger's seat.

We closed the doors, locked them, and put on our seatbelts.

I took the car out of park, and started driving. I didn't have my driver's license yet.

"
===

Well, I was supposed to be demonstrating writer's block there, but I failed. It's when you can only think of one or two sentences to write, and you have no way of "generating" any new ideas. ​​
The Ghost of ÉmilieFeb 17, 2022
@lydiaconwell @DavidBlue @frankie

#storywriting #short_story #thebiologist1117stories

In the park, we saw a huge walled in area. It had an entrance, so that's where we went, to check things out.

Inside, there was a house. It was shaped like a trailer, but its front was three gigantic doors. My friends started giggling at its appearance. It was a stupid looking house. It didn't make sense. Why would someone build a house here? In the park? Why hadn't we seen it before, even though we've been here numerous times?

I looked to the left of the clearing. I saw a man, with wiry white hair, and dark eyes. When he saw me look at him, he made a wicked smile. He was wearing a suit.

I turned around. That smile struck me like a knife... I needed to leave... but my friends were still giggling. They hadn't seen the man yet.

In my wheelchair, I started heading back towards the entrance to the park, which was a ways away.

Then I heard a crack, almost like thunder, and everything before me started being torn from the ground, and then flying into the air.

I looked behind me. There was a hole in the sky. It was sucking in everything... light, air, grass, trees, people...

I tried to hold on... to the ground... I was old, and not as strong as I used to be... It felt like there was no chance I would be able to hold on for long.

From miles away, things flew across the park... Mostly bits of earth... but also cars, leaves, sticks, shrubs, bark...

A lot of it missed me. I don't know how. The hole in the shy got bigger, and bigger, and it kept pulling more and more.

I couldn't see my friends anymore. I screamed, but I held on. I looked behind me. Trees barely flew over me, sticks hit me in the face, and bramble almost knocked me over. I knew that if I got knocked back, I would get sucked into the hole.

Eventually, it died down. I didn't know how... or why... but it did. The hole slowly started getting smaller... I could barely notice it at first... and then it was gone. The sky went from gray back to as bright as it was before. I looked around... in the open expanse that was left for anything—anyone—but I didn't see anything.

Then I felt a buzz in my pocket. It was my phone.

I pulled it out of my pocket. The screen was a dark red, with a number in the corner—19. A voice came from it and said "Total survivors... 19." ... "Congratulations." "Would you like some accommodations?"

A box popped up on the screen with a check mark and an "X." I hit the check mark and it showed me a wheelchair. I'd lost mine when everything started getting sucked up.

I selected the wheelchair, and pressed accept.

The voice spoke again.

"Only the weak need accommodations."

"You have been entered into the next round."

I felt really fucking pissed for a moment. How was I supposed to know that getting another wheelchair would put me into the next round?

Then two names popped up on the screen. My name, Deborah, and another name, Sicily. I heard the voice of a young girl, and there was an audio symbol next to the name. It sounded like she was crying (slow, drawn out, hopeless crying).

"Hello?" I said. "I just watched all of my friends die."

"SHUT UP!" the voice said, and continued crying.

Then a bunch of other names appeared on the screen, and started talking.

"Whoah! Did you see that? Oh, dude! I don't know how I survived!"

"Sheesh! What the hell is—"

"I'm so hungry! I just wanted something to eat!"

"Will you fuck off?!"

"Yeah, man, that was crazy! My mom got sucked right through the dining room window! I don't know how I'm still here!"

I couldn't hear the girl's voice over all of the commotion... I knew she was among the 19 voices, though.

Then I woke up.

--

This was based on a dream I just had.