Series

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 Peter10 days ago in Fiction
No One Knows What a Fat Man Goes Through Every Morning. AI-Generated.
Every morning, before the alarm rings, Daniel is already awake. Not fully awake. Not in the clean, cinematic way people wake in commercials—stretching, smiling, sunlight brushing their faces like forgiveness. His waking is slow, heavy, and reluctant, like a ship rising through dark water.
By Peter10 days ago in Fiction
The end to OmniWar.
Ten years after the out break of OmniWar The Perception Champion was at a loss. An unknown enemy leading the say army had be psychologically torturing him for years and he was ready to throw in the towel.
By Adam Stanbridge10 days ago in Fiction
The Letters In His Desk - pt. 3. Content Warning.
First period moves the way most mornings at school do—steady, predictable, almost boring in a way that usually feels comforting. Personal Finance with Mr. Frank is all about numbers that make sense and plans that stretch cleanly into the future. He writes amortization formulas across the board in tidy columns, sleeves rolled to his forearms, explaining interest accrual like it’s a story with a guaranteed ending. Marcus sits one row behind Ethan, angled just enough to keep him in view without making it obvious. He doesn’t talk. He doesn’t joke. He just stays there, solid and quiet. Ethan answers when called on, voice even, expression controlled. If there’s pressure building behind his eyes, it doesn’t show. His notes are neat. His posture is straight. Once, Marcus taps his sneaker lightly against the back of Ethan’s chair. A small check-in. Ethan taps back without turning around. I’m good. It’s the kind of silent conversation they’ve perfected.
By Ria12 days ago in Fiction
The Letters In His Desk - pt. 2. Content Warning.
Ethan stands at the bathroom mirror already dressed in dark jeans and a fitted gray pullover, the collar slightly uneven where he pulled it on too quickly and never fixed it. The fluorescent light above the sink hums softly, washing the small bathroom in a pale glare that makes everything look sharper and a little more tired than it really is. He tilts his chin up and drags the razor carefully along the uneven line of hair at the base of his neck, moving slowly and deliberately as if precision alone will keep him from messing it up. A thin streak of shaving cream clings just beneath his jaw, and he leans closer to the glass, narrowing his eyes at his reflection. He presses a little too hard and feels the faint sting of it, quickly adjusting his grip with a quiet breath through his nose. The scrape of the blade against his skin sounds louder in the morning stillness, and he focuses on that instead of the thoughts trying to crowd in.
By Ria12 days ago in Fiction
Nobody Knew I Had Been a Professor — Until New York Rebuilt Me. AI-Generated.
The first time I walked into the garment factory, I kept my hands in my pockets. I wasn’t cold. I was hiding them. They were not the hands of a factory worker. They were the hands of someone who had spent decades holding chalk, turning pages, and writing lecture notes late into the night.
By Jenny 12 days ago in Fiction
The Year I Ate Lunch Alone. AI-Generated.
For an entire year, I ate lunch alone. Not because I wanted to. Because I had no choice. 1. The Microwave in the Corner
By Jenny 12 days ago in Fiction
The Day My Boss Scolded Me in Public, I Remained Silent. AI-Generated.
That morning, the factory smelled stronger than usual. It was the smell of damp fabric, machine oil, and yesterday’s sweat—layers of human effort trapped in cotton and polyester. The fluorescent lights flickered weakly overhead, making everyone’s faces look older than they were. Outside, the sky was still gray, the kind of gray that never quite becomes day.
By Jenny 12 days ago in Fiction
Nobody Knows What Fat People Go Through Every Day. AI-Generated.
Nobody tells you the truth about being fat. Not really. They tell you to eat less. They tell you to exercise more. They tell you it’s about discipline.
By Peter12 days ago in Fiction
Working 12 Hours a Day in New York Made Me Fat — Until It Changed Me. AI-Generated.
I didn’t gain weight all at once. It happened quietly. Slowly. Almost politely. Five pounds the first year. Ten pounds the next.
By Peter12 days ago in Fiction
Nobody Knows What It Feels Like to Be Fat in New York — Until You Live It. AI-Generated.
New York is a city that sees everything. It sees ambition. It sees beauty. It sees money, speed, confidence. But it does not see you when you are fat.
By Peter12 days ago in Fiction
The Chronicles of Availian. Content Warning.
A wrathful blizzard scoured the surface of the Earth in nature's call for retaliation. Not a single inch was spared from nature's wrath. There was too much corruption and darkness roaming in a world meant for balance and life. The humans who dwelt there refused to take notice of the warnings as they vied for power and dominance. They sucked the planet dry of its resources to empower themselves, and then they focused on war. Turning their cruelty onto their own kind. Soaking the world in innocent blood. It was the poor who suffered the onslaught of the rich and powerful. There was no compassion or remorse for those who called themselves the world powers. They only thought of themselves and their comforts as they ravaged their own lands and then forged on to ravage the lands of others. Their greed and lust for power made them want what others had, and they forced their way into the ranks of neighbors. Bending the people to their will so that they could call themselves superior in their domination over life. Soon, rights were revoked, medical care denied, starvation took root, and the homeless outnumbered those who could afford homes.
By Valdeara Wallberg13 days ago in Fiction