The whole program
The Library
“10 tales on the shelf. Take your time — the doors are already locked.”
Filters3
The Bear I don’t know if anyone will find this. Or find me. But if you’re reading this, I need you to understand what happened. What I saw. And why I’m about to make my escape. I’m four months pregnant and… Read it
Housefire I still remember the heat on my face before I stepped out of the truck. Not the usual rolling warmth of a structure fire, this was different. It felt intentional, like the blaze itself was leaning… Read it
The Quiet Corridor I have always believed the mind is a corridor, long, dim, lined with doors most people never dare to open. My profession grants me keys to those doors. My curiosity compels me to turn them. Even now… Read it
Dont Read This in the Dark #2 I CAN SEE EXACTLY HOW YOU’RE FEELING, you’re holding me tighter than you think.Yeah, I noticed. Your fingers dug in a little when you opened this. You always do that when you’re bracing for something… Read it
Arctic Orca I still remember the color of the sky that morning, it was like a bruised gray, the kind that makes the horizon look like it’s holding its breath. We were drifting along the outer shelf of… Read it
The Train I shouldn’t have left the house that night. I knew it the moment I slammed the door shut behind me, my girlfriend’s voice was lingering in my ears. I didn’t even grab my jacket. Just my helmet, my… Read it
Mermaid I still think about them. Not every day... But often enough that the memory feels like a tide that never fully recedes. They were just newlyweds, bright, excited, and glowing with that kind of love… Read it
The Last Deckhand I keep telling myself I’m safe now. But I still grasp for air when I think about it. But every time I close my eyes, I hear that sound again, that wet slap of wings hitting the deck. We were drifting… Read it
KOi I always hit the lake before sunrise. Something about that hour feels sacred, like the world hasn’t fully decided to exist yet. The fog was barely a skin over the water, thin enough to see movement… Read it
The Reflecting I’d been drifting in and out for miles, those dangerous, syrup‑slow blinks where the world disappears and snaps back too late. When the headlights caught a crooked wooden sign that simply read: “REST… Read it