Writing Group: Where the Lost Things Go

Hello, Lost Boys and Wandering Wendys!

  Welcome! Oh don’t cry, darling! You’re safe now. You’re among friends. Just like you, no one here knows their way back home. But I think you’ll grow to like it here, because…

This week’s Writing Group prompt is:

Where the Lost Things Go

RULES AND GUIDELINES BELOW!
Make sure you scroll down and read them if you haven’t! You may not be eligible if you don’t!

This prompt can be equal parts gentle and comforting, as it can be tragic and terrifying, all depending on the direction in which you take it. One of the interesting things about this prompt is it’s not just about a lost person, or thing, it’s about a place. 

One of the first directions to which my mind goes is lost children. Maybe a child is crying in the woods, only to be rescued by a friendly troll, whose cave becomes a haven for them. Contrarily, you could write about a child lured away from the right path by a fae, brought to their world, and unable to leave—the child may not have been lost in the woods, but they are once they follow the call. Perhaps you could write about an orphanage; It’s a place where lost children go, but is it a place of belonging, or a place of neglect? You could even write about a child getting lost at the amusement park, rescued by a staff member, who takes them to guest services, telling them that this is a magical place where all lost things go. 

But children aren’t the only people who can be lost. Adults can too; they just have a harder time admitting it—whether it’s figurative or literal. You could write about a couple in the car having the quintessential “You don’t know where you’re going!” argument. Perhaps they land at a truck stop, and the guy at the cash register laughs because they get this a lot. You could write about a lost mind; the ravings of a lunatic in an asylum, or else someone finally deciding to go to therapy after a while of feeling mentally lost. You could tie it to last week’s prompt—souls can be lost too. Where do they go? 

You could make the lost things truly inanimate objects. You could write about a sock getting lost in the dryer, entering a fantasy world where all lost socks go. Maybe when our keys get lost they’re not really sitting on our counter, maybe they enter another realm for a little while. You could write about a child’s favorite toy going on to have a better life after getting lost. Maybe you could write about a collector whose museum houses all the objects the world has lost. Maybe a kleptomaniac’s house is where the lost things go…they’re just the one who made them “lost” in the first place. 

Much like my fae idea earlier, you could write about a place that, instead of being a haven for those already lost, causes people to become lost by entering it. The Lost Woods that no one ever escapes. The Labyrinth that dooms its inhabitants to wander within forever. The City that claims all who enter.

You could even combine some of these ideas. A child following their lost plush toy. An adult thinking they saw their own child self in the mirror, or reminiscing when they see their old childhood home from a highway overpass. Or a lost object wishing to return home and taking the risk of dragging its owner down with it.

My challenge for you this week is to write about a story from your real life. Go back to the painful memory of the time you lost your favorite toy as a child. You could even try to redeem the memory by telling the story of the magical land to which your toy went. Write about when you got lost in the grocery store. Tell me about the time last week when you lost your headphones. [If you do this, feel free to put (Based on a true story) next to the title, so I know you’re attempting the challenge.]

Like I said, I think you’ll like it here. Because you don’t have any other choice.

—Kaylie & Paul

Remember, this is part of our weekly Writing Group stream! Submit a little piece following the rules and guidelines below, and there’s a chance your entry will be read live on stream! In addition, we’ll discuss it for a minute and give you some feedback.

Tune into the stream this Saturday at 3:00pm CST to see if you made the cut!

The whole purpose of this is to show off the creativity of the community, while also helping each other to become better writers. Lean into that spirit! Get ready not just to share what you’ve got, but to give back to the other writers here as well.

Rules and Guidelines

We read at least five stories during each stream, two of which come from the public post, and three of which come from the much smaller private post. Submissions are randomly selected by a bot, but likes on your post will improve your chances of selection, so be sure to share your submission on social media!

  1. Text and Formatting

    1. English only.
    2. Prose only, no poetry or lyrics.
    3. Use proper spelling, grammar, and syntax.
    4. Your piece must be between 250-350 words (you can use this website to see your wordcount).
    5. Use two paragraph breaks between each paragraph so that they have a proper space between them (press “enter” or “return” twice).
    6. Include a submission title and an author name (doesn’t have to be your real name). Do not include any additional symbols or flourishes in this part of your submission. Format them exactly as you see in this example, or your submission may not be eligible: Example Submission.
    7. No additional text styling (such as italics or bold text). Do not use asterisks, hyphens, or any other symbol to indicate whether text should be bold, italic, or styled in any other way. CAPS are okay, though.
  2. What to Submit

    1. Keep submissions “safe-for-work”; be sparing with sexuality, violence, and profanity.
    2. Try to focus on making your submission a single meaningful moment rather than an entire story.
    3. Write something brand new; no re-submitting past entries or pieces written for other purposes
    4. No fan fiction whatsoever. Take inspiration from whatever you’d like, but be transformative and creative with it. By submitting, you also agree that your piece does not infringe on any existing copyrights or trademarks, and you have full license to use it.
    5. Submissions must be self-contained (everything essential to understanding the piece is contained within the context of the piece itself—no mandatory reading outside the piece required. e.g., if you want to write two different pieces in the same setting or larger narrative, you cannot rely on information from one piece to fill in for the other—they must both give that context independently).
  3. Submission Rules

    1. One submission per participant.
    2. Submit your entry in a comment on this post.
    3. Submissions close at 12:00pm CST each Friday.
    4. You must like and leave a review on two other submissions to be eligible. Your reviews must be at least 50 words long, and must be left directly on the submission you are reviewing, not on another comment. If you’re submitting to the private post, feel free to leave these reviews on either the private or the public post. The two submissions you like need not be the same as the submissions you review.
    5. Be constructive and uplifting. These submissions are not for a professional market, and shouldn’t be treated as such. We do this, first and foremost, for the joy of the craft. Help other writers to feel like their work is valuable, and be considerate and gentle with critique when you offer it. Authors who leave particularly abrasive or disheartening remarks on this post will be disqualified from selection for readings.
    6. Use the same e-mail for your posts, reviews, and likes, or you may be rendered ineligible (you may change your username or author name between posts without problem, however).
    7. You may submit to either or both the public/private groups if you have access, but if you decide to submit to both, only the private group submission will be eligible.
    8. Understand that by submitting here, you are giving us permission to read your submission aloud live on stream and upload public, archived recordings of said stream to our social media platforms. You will always be credited, but only by the author name you supply as per these rules. No other links or attributions are guaranteed.

Comments on this post that aren’t submissions will be deleted, except for replies/reviews left on existing submissions.


Comments

162 responses to “Writing Group: Where the Lost Things Go”

  1. Revenge of the Forgotten

    By: Iskritt

    Markus flopped down onto his bed, breathing out a sigh of relief. Nothing was more satisfying than being able to see your floor again after a successful cleaning session, but the process was tiring and now he just needed to sleep.

    He glanced at his floor again, trying to bask in his work well done, only to see a small lego brick sitting on the floor that he had not noticed before. He let out another sigh, this time one of disappointment, as he got out of his bed and leaned over to pick up the lego.

    “How did you get there?” He asked it, as if it could answer. It, of course, gave no response, so Markus was left talking to a silent lego brick.

    Markus moved, thoughtless and tired, to place the lego with the rest of them, when he felt a sudden sharp pain in his foot. The suddenness of the pain caused Markus to fall to the ground, holding his foot and searching his floor for the cause, which he quickly found was a small chess knight standing upwards and now facing him. Looking closer, he recognized this piece from a portable chess set he used to own, but had thrown away from loosing so many of the pieces.

    Suddenly, before he could get up, he found himself immobilized as he felt a familiar material wrap itself around his arms and legs. He moved his head up to see what was happening to see that his legs were tied together in a thick knot of mismatched socks.

    “WHAT THE-“ He tried to shout, only to be muffled by a gag of more socks. He looked around, panicked, trying to figure out what was happening, only to find more questions. He found himself surrounded by playing cards, just as mismatched as the socks. Then he heard a voice.

    “It’s awful, being lost.” The voice said. Markus tried to find the source of the voice but failed “We blame you.”

    Markus felt a sharp pain on the back of his head and blacked out.

    1. Strong Berry Avatar
      Strong Berry

      What a revenge that was! Seems like it could happen to anyone careless enough to lose so much stuff from their childhood, like myself. I like how you don’t reveal what spoke, since you established that the lost things don’t talk with the Lego brick. I wonder… just what could’ve spoken to Markus?

    2. Norman Gray Avatar
      Norman Gray

      He’s lucky he didn’t start getting pelted by all of the loose change in the sofa cushions. . . Could it have been the T.V. remote that pelted him in the back of the head?

  2. You Work For Me (CW: Trafficking)
    By MasaCur

    Thirteen entered Rikke’s office. “Andre’s back. And he’s got someone with him.”

    “Excellent!” A smile grew on Rikke’s face.

    Thirteen led her down to the barroom of the club. Andre was a large bruiser that sometimes worked as a bouncer at the club, and sometimes as an enforcer for Rikke’s less legal businesses. Seated next to him was something that looked like a cross between a goblin and an orc.

    “Hey boss, I got one,” Andre said.

    Rikke briefly flashed back to the last few days. The blackout of all light, natural and artificial. The appearance of the white portals in the air. And the reports of visitors from another dimension. Rikke suspected that the few reported ones were dealt with and partially covered up by Sonja Jarlsdottir’s group.

    Naturally, Rikke used what resources she could to find as many of the remaining visitors as she could. There was undoubtably money to be made in it.

    “Does he speak English? Or anything understandable?” Rikke asked.

    Andre nodded “I’ve managed to talk to him in Orcish, but it’s like reading Charles Dickens. His speech is really old school.”

    The creature started talking in Orcish, but while Rikke knew what it sounded like, she didn’t understand it. Andre answered him.

    “He says he wants to go back home. He wants to go back to Thesran.”

    Thesran? Rikke had heard of it. The common trade tongue was supposedly close to…

    “Do you understand me?” she asked in Old Danish.

    The creature looked at her, a sign of recognition on its face. “Yes.”

    “You work for me now. We will teach you our language. Teach you to look like a human. When you earn enough money for me, I will send you home. Do you understand?”

    The creature nodded. “I work you. You teach me. When work done, you send me home.” He paused. “How long?”

    Rikke smiled. “Probably a few years.”

    The creature’s face fell, but it nodded again.

    “If you know where anyone else from Thesran is, I’ll send you back sooner.”

    The creature’s face lit up and it nodded.

    1. Ha! Andre.

      I’m sorry to say I don’t recognize any of the names in this, because it feels like this is part of a larger story/world.

      It was interesting to go from assuming everyone is human, to having visitors from another world. Or, time rather…? To people speaking Orcish as a second language.

      I feel like “the creature” is going to be dissapointed when(if) it gets sent home to a place hundreds of years in its future. …. or maybe I’m misreading that and it just comes from somewhere isolated from the rest of the world.

    2. The Missing Link Avatar
      The Missing Link

      It doesn’t really have any twists, but that last line is really sinister. It’s essentially, “Tell me where I can find more slaves, to… protect them.” A language issue is probably also common in trafficking, disadvantaging the victims even further. If they still exist in this setting, I’d imagine the next step would be taking away any official ID to make sure the kid can’t travel.

  3. Lost and Found (Chronicles of The Dragon)
    By Makokam

    The warehouse was large and open. Only a small portion of it was individual rooms, presumably offices and maybe a breakroom if the employees had been lucky. The majority of its square footage was filled with miscellaneous boxes, pallets of merchandise, and shipping containers. And people.

    A hodgepodge of humanity, most of them were milling about in small groups, some even talking to each other. A few were walking around the outside of the room. Some were visibly carrying weapons. One was juggling fireballs. It wasn’t clear if she was doing it to alleviate boredom, or to intimidate, but it did both.

    The sound of an engine announced a truck’s arrival, and a minute later one of the large doors rolled up to let it in. One of the people who’d been patrolling the edges guided the driver as he backed in. Once parked and loading doors closed, the doors on the back of the truck opened and a woman walked up. “Alright, get out,” she said with a wave of her hand.

    A few of the people in the truck jumped out immediately and started looking around. Others were more cautious, peeking out and looking around before climbing down. The newcomers were left to find their own place in the room.

    A man walked out of the office on the upper level and whistled. “Andre!”

    One of the men looked up. “What?”

    “Round up some of the smaller ones. Time for class.”

    Andre nodded, and walked away. He slapped one of the men with a gun and waved for him to follow.

    They walked around the room, pulling people aside. “You. You. Both of you.” He said, his partner directing them to stand against the wall. Soon, Andre had selected over a dozen, and had seemingly found everyone that met his requirements. Except…

    “Hey! You, hiding between the crates! Berry hat! Get over here. You’re learning to pick locks.”

    1. Le gasp! Who’s in the berry hat?! Want more infoooesss. Text me before I KO lol

      1. I’ll give you a hint. It’s how she got her name.

    2. Ha! Berry hat indeed! I do like that the lost here are the people. You did a great job of describing what was going on and building up the curiosity. Pretty much until the last line, all you really know is that something most likely illegal is going on. The “class” line gives you a bit of a hint, but you don’t fully know what’s going on here until the end.

      I would have loved to have seen this from Berri’s perspective though. Especially with her actively hiding and trying to be lost among the lost.

      As far as critiques though, I only noticed one:

      “Once parked and loading doors closed, the THE doors on the back of the truck…”

      Fun story though!

      1. Thank you! And thanks for pointing out the double “the”, I have an idea how that happened but… It doesn’t matter.

        I really wanted to focus on the place, since it’s about WHERE the lost things go, ya know? I think I need to work on describing places though. It was a lot harder than I thought it’d be.

    3. Arith_Winterfell Avatar
      Arith_Winterfell

      Sorry this review is a bit late. But I just wanted to add my two cents. This is a good piece of a story. While there isn’t too much plot involved. What is there is basically a bunch of homeless people are gathered there, and its a criminal organization rounding up people to force them into joining and learning criminal skills to work for the group. That’s a fair bit of world building, but not a ton of story behind that. We get mention of a Berry hat character (I’m slightly confused if that is the therinanthrope character, the cat girl I thought was named Berry?) Anyway, it is a good scene and that is what is important. The story was good, just not in depth. That’s fine for our short stories here. 🙂

      1. Thank you!
        I was trying to focus on the place, which turned out to be harder than I thought.

        And you’re right! Not only that, this is also the origin of Berri’s name.

  4. Me & I
    By: Boople

    It’s a shame I never joined my toys.

    I imagine the toys I lose get found, like my teddy bear named Thomas. I lost him after a show and tell at my preschool, maybe someone found him. Maybe he’s still at that school for all the new kids to play with. Either way he probably found a home and made those around him as happy as he made me when I was little. I’d like to imagine all my lost toys found a home.

    But I lost myself too. Around my sophomore year of highschool I decided to really find out who I was. I have no better way to describe that year other than I ripped apart my psyche to get a good look at every shred and splinter of who I was. I don’t think I enjoyed it but honestly I don’t remember how I felt, I remember the silence though. For about two months my busy, cloudy, thought infested brain was replaced by an introspective lab, finding and sorting all my traits. My skills and flaws. My wants and needs. All until I asked why I did this in the first place.

    To which I never answered. I Instead basked in my very own psychological autopsy.

    Have you ever seen yourself, I mean truly, have you ever stared at everything you ever were and all you are, just laid bare and dead before you?

    I was scared for a while, I think it took about a week to get back in proper working order. And I could tell I was different from who I was. To best describe my current self would be that I feel like a frankenstein of myself. Stitched together from pieces of me, my loved ones, and my inspirations I am now an engine that feels incomplete and alien.

    I know I am very much myself now, just as much as I know that I lost who I was. It’s a shame I know the old me never found a home

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      That first line is an amazing hook. And a terrifying thought, regardless of how I read it. Very strong beginning.

      I love all the ideas in each paragraph, and the sum of the parts work great. Still, I have a strange feeling that each part is a little bit disjointed in relation to the others, and that the parts themselves are in a way greater than the sum. Which is a very strange feeling for this particular story, and in a sense, might even be fitting. Still, that is odd.

      And, once again, I love that last line, and the different ways I can interpret them. All terrifying and sad thoughts as well.

      Really nice story, Boople. Thanks for sharing.

      1. Yea while writing I felt it had a very wonky flow to it, but I wanted it to be as raw and down to earth as possible, very little embellishing and fluff.

        Thanks for yet another wonderful review.

    2. Norman Gray Avatar
      Norman Gray

      “Have you ever seen yourself, I mean truly, have you ever stared at everything you ever were and all you are, just laid bare and dead before you?”

      There’s something very powerful, and very frightening about that question. One of humanities greatest ironies is a person’s struggle to even understand themselves. . . That the mirror can’t even really show us who we are; our eyes lack objectivity.

      Throughout my adult life I’ve been trying to unpack my emotional baggage, trying to understand who I am, and what makes me the way I am. It’s a seemingly endless supply of horrifying revelations, traumas that have affected my day-to-day behaviour in ways I never previously realized. I am what other people have scared me into being; any inherent sense of self long ago dissected by a thousand careless scalpel cuts, friends family and strangers all taking a turn at playing surgeon. . . Some with the intent to do harm, or worse, trying to ‘fix’ my problems without ever trying to understand them. . .

      There are definitely some ‘lost’ versions of myself, and a number of watershed moments in my life that sent me down some horrible paths, where I’ve spent too long worrying about a past I can’t change, wondering who I would’ve been if things played out differently.

      1. I would say by far and away thats the best line that I wrote this week, I hope that you enjoyed the ‘story’ and I hope you’ve found a least a bit of someone yer proud to be

  5. Xavier21 Avatar

    Purple Beret (Based on True Story)
    By Xavier Twentyone

    I was fresh, naïve, and stupid when I entered university. That is until I met Menwa personally and thought to myself “wouldn’t it be cool if I entered their group?” I said to myself rashly, oblivious of what comes next.

    Menwa is short for Resimen Mahasiswa or, in English, Student Regiment. It is a student organization group where over the next year, students in the group would receive training of the mind and body to become somewhat of a mock soldier. We even went to a training camp with actual soldiers themselves. Sadly, that is the only good part of my existence there.

    You see, being with them…I was never happy to say the least. I was constantly scared of them. Scared of being screamed at, scared of being swung at, and most importantly scared of being myself.

    I had, to say the least, failed to be the “Menwa” they wanted. I looked like a “Fool” to them. I had a “Hunchback” figure because my neck was never straight when around them, I always somewhat opened my mouth slightly like a “Mad Hatter” around them, and my arms always loosened up when walking so they looked like “Noodles” around them. Even when not on duty, I always got berated because I looked like an “Idiot” when around them.

    And thus, the constant screaming, the constant intimidation, the constant exploitation, the constant bullying, and the many “Constant”s persisted even until I finally got my beret. The Purple Beret we called them, and something happened from that on.

    A few hours after I got my purple beret, a senior told me to put it on a chair while I was preparing my equipment. My beret vanished after that. I was terrified, and began to look everywhere. I was frightened because a beret isn’t something that should be put down recklessly in the first place. It was the culmination of everything I had suffered for. Turned out my beret was with a different senior, where he sat on it while staring at me, daring me to do something.

    “What?”

    1. Oliver Enslad Avatar
      Oliver Enslad

      There’s something about the pace of your story here that I have a hard time putting into words. It constantly pulls me along, begging to be read. But at the same time, you seem to place emotions in line with the punctuation. It gives the reader a small moment to digest, understand and contemplate each sentence and let it hit the heart. I enjoy reading with the naivety, and it introduces a conflict that’s I’ve only seen hidden among soldiers. It was described simply delightful, and I can’t wait to read more from you!

      1. Xavier21 Avatar

        Thanks Oliver, glad you enjoy it

    2. The Missing Link Avatar
      The Missing Link

      It’s always hard feeling like you don’t belong, like you’re different. It’s easy to say those people don’t deserve you or your attention, but words are cheap, and all the sunk costs and fears of change and uncertainty make you feel trapped. It feels like you’re alone in the crowd, chained to it, but you’re not, and making that change can be the hardest thing in the world. Great story.

      1. Xavier21 Avatar

        Thanks pal, really appreciate it. The trauma still persist today even though it is lighter and more docile than before. Still there will always this one feeling like a bomb that can be trigger any time soon. I hope you have a nice day!

    3. Very unique, basing it on a true story, while still very much fitting the theme. Despite the challenge, I see very few who actually did it. On top of that, I really enjoy the double use of the prompt in the one story. The main character could be “lost”, as they don’t feel they fit in and are therefore lost to themselves and/or the people around them, or the purple beret, the name sake of the story, as it is lost at the end. I enjoyed this! Very well done!

      1. Xavier21 Avatar

        Thanks Iskritt, i dont know if my take on prompt has double use in them. Not my intention XD

  6. Oliver Enslad Avatar
    Oliver Enslad

    Lake Forest, California (Based on a true story)
    by Oliver Enslad

    I snuck out of my parents home quite often. I never got caught, or they likely didn’t care. My only goal was to leave and maybe, I’ll never have to go back. We lived lavish, I was the only student in the school who’s home had it’s own bridge to get to my bedrooms. No matter how vast that mansion was, I still couldn’t help but feel smothered by the presence of all else that resided there too.

    The city I ventured was called Lake Forest. Despite my time to explore, I never found a true lake. There were craters ripped from the earth where water would pool after petrichor lines the smell of the streets, undesirable for a swim. The forest was much easier to find, my secret homes more numerous than the streets we named.

    I took the days to explore the one that was a stone’s throw away from my home. It was so small, shrunk by the greed of suburbia, that in less than a week I had a nickname for the trees that welcomed me, and even names for the ones with odd growth or ones that were near falling, I gave them a name so they would die not forgotten.

    The forest comforted me, and after a while I explored my city to find larger tree lines to explore. When I walked upon my newest project, it’s density and width took my breath away, so I had to explore. As I walked into the darkness, the sun melted away and the lack of light hugged me. My comfort tricked me into thinking I knew what berry I ate.

    I recognized the feeling of poor food choices, but not until I was too late to save myself. My back fell flat to the dirt, and I had no choice but to stare upwards. The sun rose and fell, the moon rose and fell and the cycle repeated time and time again. Someone had to be coming for me, I was paralyzed and lost. I couldn’t even cry.

    1. Xavier21 Avatar

      Hmmmm it is an entertaining story, at least for me. I can see some people would not like this because your writing brench out often as if you have many ideas that had to be put in one place. The prompt happened to be later thought rather than the main idea, but this is not a complain, i did this too. However i find this to be a diary some sort rather than a story. Not sure if this is a good or bad idea.

      for the writings (how you convey your materials), i quite enjoy it despite i did not know where this will go.

      1. Oliver Enslad Avatar
        Oliver Enslad

        I appreciate the comment! I didn’t want to make the prompt an afterthought, somedays I feel as if exploring something new is just the positive spin on being lost. With this narrative, I was hoping to capture the wonderment I had with nature while detailing the dread and sinking feelings I felt myself.
        Admittedly after a second look, I did write near exactly as I would in a diary with just more metaphor. My first person POV isn’t the strongest by any means so this comment will really help me narrow down some of my weaknesses in it, I believe!

        1. Xavier21 Avatar

          hmmmm if that so, you can express that you explore the nature as an escapism from your family circumstances, just an idea. anyway, you did a good job at your prompt.

          btw, if you have the time, will you review my take on this prompt? the title is Purple Beret, hope you enjoy.

          1. Oliver Enslad Avatar
            Oliver Enslad

            I appreciate that! And I will definitely have to rewrite or edit this later for my own personal folders.
            And most definitely! I enjoyed yours and already have a response!

    2. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      Ouch, this really take a turn for the unexpected. I really appreciate the descriptions and the somewhat nostalgic tone of it all – there is a sense of a world that little by little is getting both bigger and more familiar with each exploration. The sense of wonder was really well-conveyed… and that helped build the twist, as well as misdirecting the reader to what was to come. From wonder to sheer helplessness!

      What a terrible situation to find oneself in.

      Though, I’m unsure on how I feel about how the story is divided. That last paragraph changes everything, and it makes sense for it to be shorter and have a different style and pacing than what comes previously. But I don’t know.

      Anyway, very minor thing, and I can’t even articulate it very well. And besides a little bit of a discomfort with that part, there are some sentences there that are great and very impactful – specially that last line. So don’t even consider it really a critic, just me sharing something I thought a little bit odd in the flow.

      1. Oliver Enslad Avatar
        Oliver Enslad

        Thank you! My challenge in writing this was how to turn “Oh, yeah I once ate a bad berry and got lost in the woods for days,” into an actual compelling short. The flow is not my favorite either, but rereading it there’s very little I can think of without making it unnecessarily long. Good news is, I did survive! The true ending cut short by nothing but word count. I just learned to be more careful with berry picking. In all honesty, when I think of getting lost I can’t help but imagine the majesty of trees and how comforting of a maze they can be.

    3. Norman Gray Avatar
      Norman Gray

      I like it. Foraging out in the woods is something that’s always appealed to me, but I’ve never had to the courage to actually try it for this exact reason; so many things want to kill you, safe berries and mushrooms that are difficult to distinguish from the unsafe ones. . . And it’s easy to take the safety of civilisation for granted, help always being nearby.

      I like that he wants to be out and exploring nature and primitive living despite his rich upbringing, never truly feeling at home with his lavish living.

  7. Asher Fable Avatar
    Asher Fable

    Can’t Lose What Was Never Found (Based on a True Story)

    By Asher Fable

    It’s very difficult to describe the emotions when you realize that you haven’t lost your parents, they were just never really found to begin with.

    My parents met through a mutual friend when my Dad was 23 and my Mom was 19, even back then they didn’t have a whole lot in common. Dad was a player with 4 girlfriends already, Mom had recently broken up with an abusive boyfriend of 3 years. Despite being told upfront that she wouldn’t be his only woman, Mom started a relationship with Dad and insisted that she’d make him love her…she was right.

    The knowledge of my existence came in less than 6 months into my parents’ relationship and I was born when Mom was 20. I was little more than a hopeful plot from Mom to keep Dad from leaving her, as their few shared interests did little to keep the relationship. The difficulty I faced before birth only confirmed that Dad really couldn’t leave.

    I spent most of my life moving around my city, a new school each year until grade 3. Most of my moves were because my parents had split up or gotten back together, 11 or 12 breaks up including the most recent at this time. Two moves, maybe, were because Dad got a new job.

    My relationship with both of my parents is very strained now. Dad struggles to show his love for me at best or just convinced himself that he loves me when I was born at worst. Any time I attempt to spend with him Dad will disappear for an hour or talk to a random friend who will appear, like my time isn’t important to him. Mom has lost her grasp on reality, an undiagnosed paranoid schizophrenic who refuses to accept she has a problem.

    At 29 I have realized a harsh truth about my life. I didn’t lose my parents as I grew up, I was merely able to see through the lies and acts. I can’t lose what I never had.

    1. Xavier21 Avatar

      Hi i am sorry for what happened to you. I will review it through literary lens as much as possible. This story does not feel like a “story” in a sense that there are almost no plot what so ever. It is more like a stream of consciousness rather than a narrative. this is something you tell our friend or anybody that happened to be with you. if i want to strech it out, it feels like an exposition on a story. Once again a feel sorry for you condition

      1. Asher Fable Avatar
        Asher Fable

        Thank you for your empathy.

        This was mostly just me writing out without thinking, letting the words come as they wanted, so I’m not surprised it’s less ‘story’ and more ‘stream of consciousness’. Once I had it all out it felt wrong to change, if that makes any sense.

    2. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      Ouch, that’s harsh. I’m so sorry for the whole affair. That’s very tough. I hope you are well, despite the difficulties.

      From a narrative perspective, though, that is very well-written. And the theme of never losing what was never there is very well worked into the whole piece.

      It reminded me a bit of Breakfast of Champions, from Kurt Vonnegut. Not a lot of similarities, really, but the very direct and well-written way of conveying one’s own story and the hardships life puts in one’s way echo through it as well. If you haven’t read it, I can’t recommend it enough.

      I think there is a small mistake at the beginning of the third paragraph, though it might just be an expression I’m not familiar with: when you say “the knowledge of my experience”, I believe you meant the knowledge of your existence.

      Anyway, regardless of the harshness of what you are telling, it is very well told, and the whole idea of never being able to lose what was not there to begin with (and the realization of it not coming until adulthood) are really well conveyed.

      1. Asher Fable Avatar
        Asher Fable

        You’re absolutely right about the third paragraph, thank you for pointing it out.

        Thank you for your hope. I went through a lot and wasn’t able to fit in the 9 years of severe depression, but I’m medicated and never get that depressed anymore.
        I have a loving husband, caring in-laws and a few mother figures in my life now. Most of the time I rarely think about my parents, but this prompt and challenge brought up those thoughts.

  8. Arith_Winterfell Avatar
    Arith_Winterfell

    Lost But Not Forgotten (Legends of Talana Setting)

    By: Arith_Winterfell

    I think the hardest part of losing a child like this is the unknown. The wondering where Eliana went, what happened to her. In the first days it’s all the fear, did someone kidnap her, did she get hurt somewhere and can’t make it back home. Did she run away? Is she dead? Its all the self-recriminations. As her father I should have done more. I should have protected her. I could have done something!

    Days turn to weeks. You realize just how many things could have gone wrong. The beasts of the woods. Even the stray Dream Horror, though far from their haunts, could have taken her. It could have been she simply ran away to be with some secret lover, though she is still young and not yet of age to marry. My wife expressed she had a boy in the village she fancied, but that she wasn’t yet ready to confess her feelings to him. I spoke to the boy she had fallen for to see if they might have spoken, or if he knew of anything about what might have happened to her. He told me he had not spoken to her recently, and somehow I believed him. Though I desperately wanted to blame someone for her vanishing, there was something in his eyes that told me that he was telling the truth.

    Weeks turn to months. I worried more and more about the Dream Horrors. Some of them could creep into the minds of their victims and control them from the shadows. She had been acting strange in those days before she vanished. Could one of those creatures taken her away in the night, keeping her a slave to a strange and alien master, a creature out of nightmares?

    Months turn to years. I saved up enough money. Enough to pay a Dreamwalker wizard to use his psychic magics to search for her in dreams and visions. Nowhere could she be found. Now I sit here and am left to wonder where the lost ones truly are?

    1. Strong Berry Avatar
      Strong Berry

      This story takes the idea of losing a child in multiple ways, and I love it. You present so many ways the girl could’ve gone missing, yet you never reveal what happened. The girl might be somewhere, but will probably never be found. A fate too common.

      A great take on the prompt!

    2. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      This is devastating. I really like how both the beginning and the ending reinforce the sense that not knowing impedes closure, and so this terrible situation has no resolution… and we are left with that unsolved tension as well as readers (in other stories, I’d consider that a problem, but here, it is precisely the point). This is haunting.

      And there is a lot of interesting ideas of the setting creeping into the unease, so we have the terrible effects of the unknown and the alluring aspects of the unknown as well.

      There is not much I can say besides that – truly haunting tale.

      Great take on the prompt. This take on “lost” is very multi-faceted, and perhaps the most disturbing I’ve read here.

    3. Adult fear.

      It’s a harsh reality where the possibilities are always greater than you think.

      I am curious as to why he became so convinced she was taken into a world of dreams. Surely if a wizard can search dreams, they’d be able locate a person, or an object, in the material world? If not her, then a necklace, or something?

  9. Matthew R. Wright Avatar
    Matthew R. Wright

    Where the Lost Things Go
    By Matthew R. Wright

    Deep. An endless forever kind of deep. It rejected light and sound. No-one remembered when or how it was found. It just was. I blamed the current government. Located at the dead end of just about everywhere, everyone had visited the hole in the ground at least once. I knew of a woman that visited it everyday after her divorce and laughed into the empty space.

    The sun had set on my life long ago. I slept standing, in uniforms and conversations. Existed in the same way a discarded Dr Pepper Can exists. Just there. Just waiting to be replaced with Coke.

    The evidence locker. The forget-about-it hole. The place where the lost things go. It had many names and many purposes. I had found myself there. Amongst its many daily visitors. Joined one of the miles-long queues and waited. Ahead was a man with bags of dead-batteries. Ahead of him someone pushed a shopping-cart full of expired food. Behind me was a woman holding an urn. Behind her was someone with a box of hard-drives. Everyone had their reason to be there. Things always found a way of getting ‘lost’ here.

    Hours passed and in my queue I had reached its side of the rim. I watched the man throw the shopping-cart in its entirety into the hole. Heard him sigh with relief.

    We all shuffled forward a bit.

    The moment had come.

    Reached deep into my coat and took out the large industrial garbage-bag and shook it open. I placed it onto the dirt ground and stepped inside. Pulled the two cords to close the bag around me. Surrounded by darkness I waited to hear the batteries-guy too sigh with relief with what he had now ‘lost’ inside the hole.

    Three large hops brought my feet peaking over the edge. I repeated the last words my father had said to me before he left to collect his Amazon order “If you ever find an endless hole in the ground, that’s where you’ll find my love for you.”

    I leant forward and fell in.

    I love you Dad.

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      Hello, social services? I think I need some directions on how to act about something. People are being brutal with a prompt. Yeah, brutal.

      Gosh, that was heavy. And it caught me completely unaware. The first description got me hooked, and I loved how bizarre and at the same time how mundane the acts all seemed. If such a bizarre occurrence were to happen, this behaviors seem quite believable.

      In a sense, it reminded me of the Magnus Archive episode about the pit everyone ignores – the difference being that it is not ignored here, but really integrated into life.

      But that ending. Ouch. That was brutal. And the whole tone of it all helps a lot in putting us in an already somewhat despaired state of mind for it to hit. Great build up. Great descriptions. And an amazing landing of an end (though, to be fair, I don’t think there will be a landing if the hole is truly endless).

      (Also, not sure if it is intentional or not, but I laughed with the sentence “just waiting to be replaced with Coke”… thinking that the capital letter could be interpreted more as an affectation than describing the brand. It would work just as well with coke. Amazing.)

    2. Oliver Enslad Avatar
      Oliver Enslad

      You open up with great imagery, and the word choices you made helps relate the abyssal-like depths you described. It being a hole in the ground that everyone ventures for their most important items also brings up a lot of fun that gets my mind racing, like what if people wanted to loot it?
      I also love how you relate the character’s depression to the reader. I was drinking Dr Pepper while reading this, and it made me feel almost bad for what I knew was coming for it’s future.
      And as well, I love the finishing line. Even though there’s no sure way to know if the protagonist gets what he needs, his acceptance of his dad also brought a tear to my eye. I hope he finds his father’s love!

    3. Obligatory grammar mistake: It should be “an urn,” not “a urn”.

      Other than that, great piece! I love the misdirection with which you describe nearly everything. The man seems at first suicidal, then lovingly sad. The way you describe the pit and not being entirely clear on what it is is also a brilliant move. You hint at some kind of tragedy, a “day where it all went wrong” without making it the primary focus. Great piece, you soul crushing angel.

  10. Lee Strangely Avatar
    Lee Strangely

    Maddy’s Favor (Life of Madness)
    by Lee Strangely

    Though he was slow to move, Shiloh eventually got up out of bed. His neat and tidy room was flooded with the beautiful yellow light of the morning sun. He then lumbered his way over to shut off his alarm… That currently still had at least an hour before it was set to go off…

    He was dumbfounded. He was absolutely sure that the sound had woken him up.

    Tink.

    Shiloh perked up at the faint noise.

    Tink. Tink.

    The sound of glass drew him to the only window in his room.

    Two more pebbles struck the pane. Looking down from the second story he saw a girl with dark hair and worn coat.

    Shiloh stuck his head outside, “Maddy?”

    “Good, you’re up!” Maddy called, “Get down here!”

    “Do you know what time it is?” he grumbled, “school starts in a couple hours.”

    “I know, so get moving!”

    “Maddy,” Shiloh blurted, “what’s going on?”

    Her chipper attitude froze, “Back in the alley before, you offered me a favor…”

    “Yeah.”

    “Did you mean it?”

    “Maddy I-”

    “Did you mean it?” she asked with dead seriousness.

    “Y-yes.”

    “Then get down here!”

    Outside, Maddy dragged him along with great speed, and no patience.

    “M-Maddy slow down,” Shiloh begged.

    Pavement, grass, roads, ditches… Avoiding rocks, hopping across streams… and climbing over a mangled metal fence.

    Finally stopping, Shiloh noticed all the headstones, “This is a cemetery…”

    “Uh huh… When you feel lost, you talk to your grandpa,” Maddy exclaimed, “I like to visit my mom…” She stepped out of the way to reveal the headstone reading ‘Charlie May Meridian.’

    He looked at Maddy, “There’s no guarantee that I’ll actually talk to her.”

    “I’m alright with that.”

    “I don’t want to make you-”

    “I’ll be fine…”

    Reluctantly, Shiloh plunged his hand into the grass. The dying breeze, the wet soil, and Maddy’s intent gaze only made him more uncomfortable.

    Eventually, he ceased, “I-I can’t feel anything… I’m sorry I…”

    He looked up at Maddy. Her head was turned away, her face just out of his sight.

    “Maddy?”

    “I’m fine,” she muttered.

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      Since that one about the dead gunslinger, I was sure Shiloh’s gift were trouble for him. And boy, was I right.

      I really like how the interactions of these two paint their characters. Maddy with her manic-beaming-with-energy and ready to do all kinds of crazy things RIGHT NOW persona, and Shiloh being shepherded into situations he might not be comfortable with (either through kindness or through a lack of energy to resist). This has all the flags pointing that amazing things will happen before it ends inevitably bad for them. I love it.

      And it is a bit of a surprise to see a more vulnerable Maddy – even though it is more hinted than we really see it, since what we are privy to is more she being defensive than showing what she is feeling. This fleshes her out in a very interesting way. I´d really like to see this particular scene progress a little bit further, though. Both their reactions would be interesting looks into these characters in ways we were yet not presented.

    2. This went a very different direction then expected for me. I don’t know if it’s intentional but the beginning feels very innocent like kinda ‘you promised you hang out with me and I’m gonna make you a midnight cause it’s funny haha’. but it turns into a more sensitive story, and I’d love to see the tender and tense scene in the graveyard be expanded someday bc although it is good as is, I feel like if given room to breathe past 350 words it could become really touching.

      WELL DONE!

    3. Matthew R. Wright Avatar
      Matthew R. Wright

      Love the imagery in the opening paragraph. Peaceful and calm, offset by how Shiloh exits their bed. The scene feels so familiar, like it has happened to everyone, yet even so it the text makes it feel like it’s new. Also, I’ve never read a montage before, your’s is the first, and you did a fantastic job with it. Great story overall. Great use of the prompt.

    4. More Maddy!

      I love Maddy, she’s such a wonderful character.
      This story makes me feel sad for Maddy, her insistence it’ll be fine just to be disappointed is heartbreaking and I wanna hug and tell her it’s gonna be all right.

      I’m not entirely sure what Shiloh’s power is, is he a necromancer or someone who can talk to spirits, if so that makes the line “I can’t feel anything” even more poignant (and yes I will in fact headcanon the grave is empty and Maddy’s mom is still alive somewhere 😉
      Though I may heavily be going against canon ^^; it’s been a while since I’ve seen these dorks and all sorts of things I must have missed in the meantime

      But long story short, good story, I am sad, keep up the good work ^^

  11. MelancholicOtaku Avatar
    MelancholicOtaku

    The Lost Forest
     
    By: MelancholicOtaku
     
     Deep in the forest, next to a quaint, cozy village, is a small house. In this house lived a little girl. Like most girls her age, Elyn enjoyed frolicking and skipping, pestering her older brother, and her daily adventures with her prized possession, a stuffed snow-white owl with sapphire eyes. “Elyn, come inside; it’s time for lunch!” a young boy yelled. The little girl was happily running towards the house.
     
    It was a sunny day; no, to better describe that particular day, it was absolutely perfect. Yes, it was sunny, accompanied by a gentle breeze. A little boy of ten and his sister, two years younger, are playing through their own personal kingdom in the forest behind their cozy cottage. This place of mischievous fairies, helpful gnomes, wise spirits, and that which lies in the dark.

    “Count to ten, Elly,” the boy said, gleefully running away.
    As stated before, the day the awakening happened, it was a harmonious and beautiful day. Two siblings’ cheerful laughter can be heard through the woods.

    Then it happened: the sounds of nature suddenly disappeared.

    There was nothing but complete silence, which could be fine in any other circumstance, but in a forest, silence doesn’t seem right. It has this sort of strange, eerie feeling, like one is being followed. Simply put, the unknown is the predator, and we with our moral limitations are the prey.

    “Elias, where are you?” Elyn cried, her voice alone and scared, breaking through the silence.

    “Elias, please come out.” She cried again.

    Suddenly a small bright orb appeared, accompanied by a man dressed in beautiful robes similar to those the royals might wear; he also donned a white owl mask that looked familiar.

    “Good day, Lady Elyn, I am the tollkeeper at your service .” The figure introduced himself, giving the girl a bow.
    “My brother, have you…” Elyn bawled, fearing the worst. Getting up from his fanciful now, the roll keeper pointed to the orb. “Why, Lady Elyn, he’s right besides me.”

    1. Matthew R. Wright Avatar
      Matthew R. Wright

      Feels like it was ripped straight out of a book of fairytales. The setting, characters, use of language, all invoke that feeling of cozy, childish warmth, like the calm before the storm. And like with most fairytales, it gets scary/bleak/strange/morbid very quickly. Your’s doesn’t disappoint. I loved reading your piece. Well done.

    2. I love the setting and concept so much! Your description of silence is immaculate and the idea of suddenly everything going quiet is very cool. A small critique I have is that I feel that there are some unnecessary elements thrown in. sentences like “As stated before, the day the awakening happened” and “white owl mask that looked familiar.” hint to a lore behind the story that is simply impossible to properly convey in a 350 word story, which makes them feel a bit out of place. I might just be missing something, and I am sure there are answers to any question I could have, but making the story self-contained while also giving a deep lore is very difficult. With that said, I do sincerely enjoy the story. Very well done!

  12. WriterOfThought Avatar
    WriterOfThought

    On the Nature of the Source: A Study by the Elder
    WriterOfThought

    It has long been known that magic is powered by a substance currently known as Source, but it has gone by many names: Aether, Mana, Weave, Ki, I’ve even seen some use the term “Chakra”. All who use magic are very familiar with its use, the texture of power and the smell of potential, but it cannot be understated that even those less inclined to spellcasting use Source. In this study, I will uncover the true nature of Source, and what powers its infinite nature.

    Source is clearly linked to life force, but life force itself appears split into three segments, each of which can be converted into source. Certainly, all must die bodily one day, but should one lose connection with their soul, or with their mind, are they any better off even though their body moves? It is just death of another kind, and makes one just as susceptible to becoming one with the Source as physical death does. This aside, Source can clearly be generated through mental, physical, or spiritual exertion. One must then simply be cautious as to not expend all of any part of themselves at once.

    The abilities of source are well known, as it empowers a person to be able to use any skills they possess to an accelerated level, whether physical, mental, or magical. However, it is also where these abilities come from. It has been frequently documented that, should one choose to forget an ability, it must be retrieved directly from the Source should they change their mind. The same appears to apply to lives.

    Should one who is not in the graces of a higher being, or in some cases, The Highest Being, as I have currently found no name for this being, perish, all forms of sentience and awareness are permanently lost within the Source. But, I have found ways outside of necromancy to bring them back, although the path is extraordinarily dangerous and puts all involved at risk of permanent death. Knowing this, I have decided not to attempt this. Let the dead find their own way back.

    1. Strong Berry Avatar
      Strong Berry

      This explanation is really detailed and clear, yet the final paragraph manages to make you curious. Can the dead even find their way back to Earth? What makes the ways the Elder found dangerous? You managed to make me wonder about these questions.

      Good job!

      1. WriterOfThought Avatar
        WriterOfThought

        Thank you for the review! I’m excited to see that the writing made you react this way, as it’s just the kind of reaction the Elder would have wanted: the kind that makes you seek out the answers to your own questions

  13. Quetzalcoatl Avatar
    Quetzalcoatl

    Lost between thoughts
    By Quetzalcoatl

    Damp air was oozing out from behind the closed door, that the darkness was forcing me to open. The dim light coming from around the corner was enough to blend me after all the time I spend crawling through shadows unknown. Thus, it was only after a while that I opened my eyes to the strangeness of the place unfolding before my gaze. The walls and floor were of fleshy, pinkish colouring, as if organic, as if alive, without the thumping of a heart, but feeling the tingling of life under my touch. This was no manmade structure, instinct told me, it was no place for man to be. It was natures irredeemable irrationality that created these gruesome halls, these twisting nonsensical corridors. With every step I took, the path split up over and over again into a myriad of branches, all with the same disturbingly spongey floor, all riddled with unknown holes and tunnels impossible to traverse. I did not descend further and further down into this labyrinth of organic hell out of my own will, but out of the intrinsic impossibility staying in one place. At first it was nothing more than the desire to leave that abyssal darkness I have been crawling through for so long, but soon that desire grew, grew to be uncontainable, to be uncontrollable. Next it was the light, that accursed light that always shone from just behind the corner, that light that was not to be reached by man. Not reaching it drove me mad, made me panic, stricken by fear and utter disgust as I became more and more sensitive towards the nature of this place. I started running, running faster than I ever, for I knew, that I had to leave here, that this was no place for me to be, that I invaded upon a thinking mind, a thing, that was to not be disturbed. But as ran, a cliff drew near, a fleshy pinkish cliff, that opened its darker mouth, for me to be swallowed, as I fell into oblivion, helplessly.

    1. MacBoiZen Avatar

      Ooo, a spooky take on the prompt. I do like the sort of psychological take on this. There’s not a whole lot of super clear details, which adds to the mystery of this place. My only critique would be that there’s some weird grammar inconsistencies sprinkled around the story, but with a little editing, that should be an easy problem to fix. Overall, I enjoyed it. Well done!

    2. Strong Berry Avatar
      Strong Berry

      This was a good horror take on the prompt. Your descriptions of the weird, fleshy place the protagonist is in are very effective at luring the reader in.

      I would advise to split this into multiple paragraphs, that way the story will be more clear to read.

      Overall, a job well done. You’ve earned a like.

    3. before I finish reading I’m writing this down, I love that they aren’t moving to explore, but because they scared to be still for too long, it’s such a funky way to describe.

      alright finished. What a wonderful incomprehensible thing you’ve brought forward today. I love the vibe and can just only imagine all the emotion you have painted with words. the place created here truly felt disturbing. I am of the opinion that this could have been broken into multiple paragraphs to play with the spacing of it, but maybe the block of text was intentional, either way a great read indeed!

  14. The Missing Link Avatar
    The Missing Link

    The Queen’s Domain
    By: The Missing Link

    Come ye now to fields of thistle
    Where in the breeze, grasses whistle
    Seek this place ‘fore the morning’s frost
    And ye will find a land of lost

    Following the voices of the forest, Lucas found himself in what appeared as a village. Stairways of fungus roped around the trees as vines connected the building interlacing their branches. Glowing fruits and insects gave the town a soft glow.

    Out of the largest tree walked a woman, the most beautiful Lucas had ever seen, a smiling child clasping each hand, “Welcome,” she said in the voice of the forest, all the ambiance falling silent at her word.

    Lucas couldn’t find the state of mind to respond, too overwhelmed at the new sights. Thankfully the children brought him back down to… earth? Was this still earth?

    “I’m Ellie,” said one of the children with a lisp as she ran up to him, “I learned how to spell my name this week.” She put her hands on her hips, beaming with pride at herself.

    The other child, a boy no older than five, peaked out from behind the woman, “Sam.” He hid again.

    “Um… L… Lucas.”

    The woman’s smile was warmer than cider on a winter day, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lucas. You can call me Titania, though these two have taken to saying mom instead. You must be cold, standing out here in the wind, come.” She beckoned inside her tree, causing Ellie to run over, giggling.

    Inside, Titania wrapped Lucas in a silken blanket, so soft he could have melted into it. He could feel himself about to cry at the kindness he had never before known.

    “It’s okay Lucas, you don’t have to go back to them. No one will hurt you here.” She stroked his hair like his friend’s mothers would do to comfort them. “You need only say the word.”

    “Yes, mom.”

    In Titania’s land of heather
    Those beyond will know not whether
    Their lost can rest where poppies grow
    Or if their souls remain held low

    1. MacBoiZen Avatar

      Hmmm, quite the twist at the end. Quite a fantastical take on this prompt. Your descriptions of the world really set the scene well, and your characters are given a lot of personality even in just a few phrases. I really wanna know more about this story you’ve come up with! Well done!

    2. WriterOfThought Avatar
      WriterOfThought

      I always love a good fairy story, and this is definitely one of them. Your version of Titania is definitely more motherly than I tend to write her, but what better way to make a changeling child than to make it think you are their mother?

      Excellently done. The atmosphere is perfect for this kind of story. The only errors I’ve seen are some minor punctuation errors which could even be autocorrect thinking too far ahead.

  15. Reinkarnitor Avatar
    Reinkarnitor

    If you are truly lost…

    by Reinkarnitor

    So you want to leave? To try again?

    It does not matter.

    Nothing does.

    Not here.

    Do you even know where you are? Do you even know how lost you are right now?

    I have to say, for a living being to end up here, you must really have gone astray from your path. You messed up, broke bonds and promises, left things behind which you should never have forgotten.

    You chose to take the path where no one could follow you. You claimed that you never cared. Not ever cared about anything, or anyone, that your heart could not be moved and that your life could never be shared.

    Where did that bring you?

    Here, to me.

    This is where lost things go. I am Lost.

    I tell you that there is no way out of here, no hope, no life, not even the glimmer of the slightest chance that you can change what you have done.

    Did you really think that you could come here and then leave again, like nothing ever happened? Did you think that after all you have done, you would just get a second chance and could make it up to all those you have wronged? It doesn’t work like that.

    Not here.

    And yet…you still take up your blade, stand before me and claim that you will not give up.

    It fascinates me. You humans…you don’t know when to quit.

    Maybe you have indeed learned a lesson.

    But is it enough? Let me test how strong your will truly is.

    Here you don’t get to decide, I do.

    I decide if you are truly lost.

    1. This is a rather interesting story. The first time I read it, I already appreciated the underlying horror of it without being too obvious; I mean, this “you” is obviously trapped somewhere they can’t just leave cause someone else decides on that.
      And then I read it a second time, and it felt a lot like depression (or another mental health issue) talking. I mean, this is pretty much what your mind is telling you when you’re in that kind of state (talking from experience). So now I appreciate it even more. It is really written quite well.
      The only wording that tripped me up a bit was “not ever cared” right after “never cared”, but that would be something of a minor nitpick; it doesn’t detract from the story too much.

      So, in a way this was quite the enjoyable read! Thanks a lot for writing and sharing this!

    2. Asher Fable Avatar
      Asher Fable

      I have to agree with DaLeen’s interpretation of the story, as it’s also where my own mind went.

      This story is truely amazing, whether it’s meant to be fantasy or a introspective of mental illness. It hits in a way that brought several emotions back for me, both good and bad. It gets across so much in so little.

      Interesting and impressive, my friend.

  16. What happens to the stuff that falls into your couch?
    By Sam C.

    Don’t ever ask what happens to things that fall into the couch. Stop laughing! You think this is funny? You think you can withstand what lies within? Fine. Let me tell you what you’re up against.

    First off, no light. You must traverse in absolute darkness. If you so much as strike a match and the thing will get you, and you’ll never make your way back out.

    Second off, the thing. The eldritch, impossible thing in there. Round, fuzzy, no, more like leather- Ah, forget it! They call things “eldritch” and “ineffable” for a reason. Whatever it is, you make one wrong move, make one noise a bit too loud, and it will find you in a second.

    Third off, the SCALE of it… Think of a labyrinth made of thousands of miles of shifting mountains and vast plains of leather and short, fuzzy fabric. You couldn’t navigate it if you had light, technology, and a thousand years to try.

    Fourth. The noise. When you step into that cursed place, you are bombarded, nay, deafened by the sound of trillions of pounds of coins all hitting against one another, the sound of thousands of blaring TV’s static and overlapping sounds. You will never hear what you do, all the more perilous considering the thing can hear you above all of that.

    Fifth. There’s thousands of couches in the world. All of them lead here. What makes you think you can find the right one on your way back out? How are you sure that you won’t end up in feudal China, or the far future couch left in the vacuum of space? You can’t be. You won’t be.

    Finally, entering that place can break you. All of it at once is too much for the fragile human mind. The best you can do is end up insane, somewhere so far away from home that the thought feels like just another delusion. You die the moment you crawl inside, no matter the outcome. Heed my words, forget about that controller. Or do you still think you can handle the depths?

    1. A hivemind of couches is not what came to my mind when I looked at the prompt, but I’m glas you had the idea because that’s hilarious =D I especially like the imagery of deafening coin drops and labyrinths of leather and fabric. It’s just so neat! Well done ^^

    2. Reinkarnitor Avatar
      Reinkarnitor

      I have never read such a good prompt about an everyday object before.

      The way you describe it is very good, you can really get a picture of how this couch dimension looks like.

      And the line with “Ah, forget it! They call things “eldritch” and “ineffable” for a reason.” made me laugh a bit. A nice take on the fact that eldritch beings and stuff like that are per definition indescribable.

      Very nice work, keep it up!

    3. WriterOfThought Avatar
      WriterOfThought

      I can hear a young me or even my friends as children explaining this very enthusiastically as if they were a politician explaining why the remote batteries in the couch needed to stay there because it was too dangerous to try and get them back.

      Honestly its the kind of worldbuilding that reminds me of Codename: Kids Next Door. Very nostalgic, very well done. Love it.

    4. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      This is very funny, all the while being also terrifying. I can’t lie, my mind went straight to the L space that connects all libraries and some librarians know how to navigate. So, it begs the question: is there any kind of creature that knows how to use the impossibly vast and confusing twists and turns of the eldritch labyrinth of the C space? Maybe the thing there can answer, but I’m not sure it would be good to ask it.

      And there’s that final question that creeps at the back of my mind as I finish reading… who is the one telling it? As we know, nothing comes back from the space inside the couches. Whatever or whoever it is, it certainly is not the same thing it once was that entered the couch. So, maybe the most terrifying thing is not just the horrible things that lie inside the couch… but the realization that that eldritch inside found its way outside, and is talking with us.

      Great story!

      1. Well to be honest, I imagined the person talking to you being someone who actually fell through the couches, and recovered, somewhat. Why did you think he put so much emphasis on the way you die in there, no matter what happens? Why do you think he took the whole situation that direly?

    5. Norman Gray Avatar
      Norman Gray

      Love the idea of an interconnected world between all of the couch cushions. You could fall into one crevice and exit out of another in some random house on the other side of the planet, or out of some old worn out couch on a curb or in a dump. . .

      You actually just reminded me of a movie I saw once when I was a kid, about monsters living under beds, where all the underneaths of beds are interconnect by some monster underworld, and a group of kids accidentally venture there and have to navigate their way out. . . I have no idea what it was called, and I completely forgot it existed until I read your story.

  17. Norman Gray Avatar
    Norman Gray

    The Tavern At Trail’s End
    By Norman Gray

    Many acquaintances can be made within tavern walls. . . But few taverns are both so strange, yet so mundane as the Bogwater Inn.

    Upon entering the Bogwater, you’ll likely see nothing amiss, nothing particularly noteworthy. In fact, you’ve probably pictured it in your mind’s eye before even stepping through the front door; a roaring fireplace, chandeliers long overdue for a dusting, oak tables circled by chairs, enough for plenty of patrons, though crowds are a rare sight at the Bogwater.

    It is seemingly, ordinary. . . What makes the Bogwater unusual however, is its location. For it is the tavern at trail’s end; a weary wanderer’s final respite before what could perhaps be, a point of no return. The last place anywhere, and the beginning of nowhere. . .

    For what lies beyond the beaten path, well, who’s to say?

    Few, if any, reach this place without a story to tell, should they choose to share, and should anyone be eager to listen. One must tread through peril, mischief or misdeeds, fleeing away or even towards danger to find themselves in this forgotten land, leaving their past behind, stepping into the uncharted in search of something that perhaps none have ever found. . .

    What might your story be, weary traveler?

    If the truth ill-suits you, and your secrets are unsafe in the hands of strangers, then be certain to have your mistruths and misdirections well prepared. For any wanderer who sets foot in his establishment will be a peculiar sight indeed for Belyle Bogwater, owner and barkeep. He is not one to pass up the opportunity to hear a stranger’s tale. . . Not much happens around these parts, don’t you know? A man must entertain himself, somehow.

    As you enter, his inquiring eyes will no doubt settle upon you. . . Consider your words carefully. Lies, objection, silence or scorn, he’s seen it all before. Few who’ve entered his establishment have ever dissuaded him, or made him refrain from prodding, and gaining answers to that most tempting of questions:

    “So, what brings you to the Bogwater, stranger?”

    1. Reinkarnitor Avatar
      Reinkarnitor

      I. Love. It.

      I absolutely love tales about taverns and the idea of a tavern at the end of the road (metaphorically speaking of course) is brilliant. The last place where you come when you are lost. No map leads there but when you find it you know that it is already too late.

      What interests me is the barkeep. Is he able to send you back or not? And if yes, is the rquirement that you do not lie to him? Is he maybe even the final judge before you move on to whatever comes after? And amybe some of the denizens are to scared to see the end, so they stay in the tavern forever.

      So many possibilities, so many interpretations. This short tale truly is great!

      Keep it up!

      1. Norman Gray Avatar
        Norman Gray

        Thanks. I deliberately left it open to interpretation. I had started writing this shortly before this week’s prompt; it was actually intended to be a prompt itself, for a collaborative story where people introduce their own characters as they arrive at the tavern. . . I myself was thinking I’d write for the barkeep, though I haven’t thought much about what happens from here. . . I thought I’d let contributors surprise me, and guide the story wherever they see fit.

    2. I haven’t seen such a wonderful use of the second person in a long while! While sounding more like an advertisement for the tavern itself, this story really does an amazing job with worldbuilding, creating scenery and a sense of intrigue about what universe an establishment such as this was built in. From but 332 words, we already get a blooming sense of danger, adventure, and mystery. What is trails end? What is beyond it, and why is it “the point of no return”? What kind of people pass through this place? All of these questions grab the reader’s attention by the throat and run with it. I feel as though, expanded upon, this story could be the start of a really good book. Fantastic job!

  18. J. J. Peterson Avatar
    J. J. Peterson

    The Finder
    J. J. Peterson

    LOST: “Hello? I … I think I’m lost.”

    FOUND: “Lost?! Certainly not anymore. No, you are found.”

    LOST: “No, I really don’t know where I am.”

    FOUND: “I know. But I know where you are.”

    LOST: “Can you help me find my way back?I have a meeting tonight, and my family will start worrying.”

    FOUND: “Trust me. You’re right where you need to be.”

    LOST: “Why don’t you just tell me how to get out of here, and then I can decide when I’m where I need to be!”

    FOUND: “Oh, don’t you understand? You’ve arrived. I’m the place where lost things go. You have come home.”

    LOST: “If you don’t have anything helpful to say, I think I’ll head out on my own.”

    FOUND: “You’ll only end up back with me.”

    LOST: “Is that supposed to make me feel better? Besides, it’s THE place where lost things go.”

    FOUND: “Please, don’t get exasperated like that. A place could be found, and that defies the point of being lost, so I got changed to a person, this way we can always stay lost somewhere else.”

    LOST: “Can you shut up and let me think. I need to find a way home.”

    FOUND: “I understand. You’re confused and frustrated. But you’re taking this the wrong way. Being lost is a good thing. In fact, if you don’t like to think about it like that, try this: I found you. That means you’re no longer lost.”

    LOST: “I’ll know when I’m found, thank you very much. And being lost is quite a bad thing, trust me I know. I still miss the watch my dad gave to me when I was young. The last piece I had of him, rusting away somewhere.”

    FOUND: “Oh, you mean this watch? Don’t worry, I’m keeping it safe.”

    LOST: “Give it here!”

    FOUND: “But then it wouldn’t be lost, would it?”

    LOST: “It’s mine.”

    FOUND: “You lost it. It’s mine. You’re lost. You’re mine. Resign yourself, and let’s have a civil conversation.”

    LOST: “So… What’s your favourite colour of wagon?”

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      I like the way you made this into a conversation, and how most of this back-and-forth develop. I particularly like the idea that the place where lost things go changed into a person as a way to maintain its lost characteristic. That’s ingenious, and very fitting with the tone of the piece.

      But on this particular point, I felt like the affirmation of LOST that right before it seems a bit odd. He just affirming “Besides, it’s THE place where lost things go” feels a little as if he is just preparing the set up for the answer – so, although the answer is really great, this part broke a little bit of my immersion in the discussion.

      As another small bit of criticism, I don’t think the ending really landed all that well. FOUND suddenly becomes a lot more aggressive in its tone, and LOST stops immediately with the stubbornness and just accepts what is going on…. I know there is the ever present problem of the word count, but this didn’t feel very satisfying as the closing moment of the story.

      Small things, really, since the crux of the story seems more to be the whole back-and-forth about being lost and what it entails, and the question it might plant in the imagination of the reader – and those things are very well done. So, overall, really satisfying!

    2. I read this and loved it and I wanted to write a review but then life happened XD

      But stuck in traffic in a bus will do the trick ^^

      I love the concept, a conversation between lost and found is already an interesting idea but what I think really sells the execution is the fact that Lost is just your average Joe who is sick of Found’s nonsense. It really humanised the character and accentuated the absolute absurdity of the situation.

      The watch was also such a mean gesture! But it also makes me wonder is Found realises that themself and is playing dumb, or if it’s not in their nature to understand. It almost feels like reasoning with a small child.

      The wagon line threw me off kilter, but if you need to go from “defiance” to “begrudgent acceptance” changing the subject to the first thing that comes to mind does the trick nicely ^^

      Very amusing
      Keep up the good work

  19. Strong Berry Avatar
    Strong Berry

    Visiting the Lost
    By Strong berry

    It has been 20 years since Wanda’s death and Winston Johns went to visit her grave. On the tombstone was written “Wanda Johns. 1954 – 2009”. He placed a bouquet of orchids on her grave and sat down near it.

    “So, another year passed…” Winston said to the tombstone after a small silence. “I hope you’re alright up there with the… angels and God and what not, or… wherever you are.” After her death, though he was an atheist, Winston began to study different versions of the afterlife. All of a sudden he wondered, do any souls get lost on the way to… whatever the afterlife is? If so, where do they go? Do they become ghosts? Winston knew that if anyone could get lost on the way to the afterlife, it would be Wanda. He tried to imagine her calling him trying to get to Heaven, asking him where to turn next because the damn GPS isn’t working again, and him stopping whatever he was doing, like always, to help her.

    Then Winston realized he forgot the sound of her voice. He remembered it was sweet, that it was fun to listen to, even when she got angry, but what it actually sounded like… he forgot. He pulled out a smiling photo of Wanda, because he had a little trouble recalling the face that made him fall in love all those years ago. What happened to his memories? Are they… gone too? He looked at the orchids he brought. Her favorite flowers. At least he hasn’t forgotten that yet.

    “I am getting old, Wanda.” He told the tombstone. “It hasn’t been easy here without you. I think about you every day. I already told you this but… you saved me, Wanda. You showed me the way… the way of love. You found in me what I thought was lost forever. And I promise…” He started to feel tears coming up. “…that your memory will not be lost.”

    Winston tried to hold himself, but the tears started flowing from his eyes.

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      That was really, really sad. And really, really relatable.

      Nothing worse than perceiving that we are forgetting important things, that even those things we are sure had marked us more than anything else in life can also be forgotten, little by little. Maybe not the stories, but the small things that make them really special. Maybe not the people, but those small moments and scenes that make them really… real.

      And I just love that what makes the memories come pouring in and the discussion on being lost is one of those characteristics of the missing person that are not so favorable. This is also so relatable. We can find ourselves missing exactly what was annoying in someone, those little things that make a person be exactly who they are. Sometimes, those things can make them endearing, and even when that’s not the case, these are part of the memories that remain with us when they are gone and all we have is what in Portuguese we call “saudades” (the feeling of missing someone).

      And the ending is so sincere and sad. The promise is part of the effort for the memory not to be lost, but it is also a reminder that said memory has already changed.

      Very emotional piece. I’d say I think that first paragraph could have a better way of hooking us into the story, since it feels like just a direct description without much flavor of the action and scene, and that contrast with the rest of the story. But that’s a minor thing overall. the story in itself is great. Thanks for sharing it!

      1. Strong Berry Avatar
        Strong Berry

        Thank you for the kind words! And you’re right about the first paragraph. That’s why it’s shorter than the rest of the story. I tried to make it a better hook, but my attempts didn’t feel right. Thank you the critique!

    2. Oof! This one hit me hard! You did an excellent job showing what loss can do to someone and it is very relatable, especially after the toll the past few years have taken on quite a few people.

      What I think struck me the most is I assumed around the middle that the long thing would be Wanda herself with all the talk about how she had a bad sense of direction and all. So when it was a memory that was lost as well, it caught me by surprise and had that much more impact. It is the little things like that which can have the biggest reactions.

      All in all a very powerful piece and a great take on the prompt.

      1. Strong Berry Avatar
        Strong Berry

        Thanks for the kind words!

    3. Arith_Winterfell Avatar
      Arith_Winterfell

      As an atheist I must say I appreciate this piece. A man struggles with loss and reflects on dreams of going elsewhere when we die. But the story stays focused on Winston, his lost, his aging and loss of memory, and his desires to hold on to those memories.

      My only critique of the story (that I can come up with as it is a good story!) is that you could possibly even get away with ending on the phrase “your memory will not be lost.” rather than the final line, because doing so would bring more focus to his struggle with memory loss and his longing for his lost love.

      An excellent tale of love and loss and memory!

      1. Strong Berry Avatar
        Strong Berry

        I’m glad my story managed to resonate with you! Thanks for the kinds words!

  20. Lost causes and loose ends.

    By Pumpkin

    I prune the prickly peony with impeccable precision when a voice distracts me from my work.

    “Have you seen a blue bear?”

    I look back at the woman “A bear?”

    “Yes, a teddy bear! Blue with a white belly. I must have dropped it somewhere.”

    “Where?”

    “I don’t remember” She bites her upper lip as she thinks “Pink, I remember pink.”

    “Forget the bear, go home.”

    “What?” She sounds perplexed. “No, I need this bear!”

    “Why?”

    “It’s important it’s…”

    “Yes?”

    “If you won’t help me find it, I’ll go look myself, good da-”

    “Wait!” I sheathe the shears and pull out the plant mister “If I give you the teddy bear will you leave this place?”

    “How rude this garden is public property-”

    “No, it’s not! Look at the sign.” I grunt with the pent-up frustration of countless interlopers.

    “What!?” The woman huffs indignantly.

    “The sign, above the gate, read it.”

    “Oh…”

    “Exactly, now this way.”

    We make our way to the greenhouse in silence.

    The air is heavy, hot and wet.

    I look at the door, the lock cracked and crumbled.

    By now it’s hard to know who to blame, the trespassers or the plants.

    Nevertheless, we go in together.

    The oblivious oleander is not a plant. It’s a monster in the shape of a magnificent, tall, tempting pink bloom.

    “Hold your breath.”

    “Why?” the woman challenges.

    “You want the stupid bear, right?”

    She opens her mouth to retort, then thinks better of it and obeys.

    I spray the plant.

    The flower convulses, squeezing and trembling until its heart bursts open with a sick, slimy, crack.

    A battered blue teddy bear slides out of the gaping maw.

    I pick it up, dry it with my apron, hand it off.

    “Now scram.”

    She looks perplexed “But how? When?”

    “Just go! Now and don’t ever come back.”

    “Thank you-“

    “Go!”

    “Okay!”

    The flower gagged and choked as a second thing dropped down to the cloying earth.

    A boy, six, maybe seven, half-digested.

    I sigh, pick him up.

    Then toss him back.

    “At least have the decency to let her forget completely.”

    1. This was definitely an interesting comeback! At first this woman seemed like a bit of a Karen, and I really wondered where this story would go. I thought that maybe the teddy was hers, something from back when she was a child, so I did not expect what was about to happen. (And it hit extra hard since I myself am a mother of a six year old boy…)
      The only thing that confused me a little was the “and pull out the mister”; but that might be me and English not being my native language? I don’t know.

      Still, very enjoyable read, thank you for writing and sharing.

      1. Thank you for the review ^^

        “(And it hit extra hard since I myself am a mother of a six year old boy…)”
        0.0
        *offers hug just in case*

        Also the “mister” refers to a plant mister, it’s a spray bottle normally used to damp leaves and whatnot ^^ I needed a “trigger” to make the plant go bleh and this seemed a good fit but the “plant” part got cut off leaving only “mister” at some point due to word count ^^;

        Actually…I should have 1 word leftover (checks)
        I’m putting the “plant” back ^^ it’d really help in clarity,

        Thanks again =D

        1. Aaah, ok. Now it makes sense. x’D

          And thank you for the hug. *hugs back*

    2. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      Wow. Just wow. That ending was brutal.

      This is very different from what I’ve learned to expect from your stories. The pacing is familiar, but it is a lot more “traditional” in its storytelling than most of the ones I remember from you. And yet, it is still full of surprises.

      I just find it fascinating that the bear (and something else) didn’t just found themselves where they are because they were lost, but in more senses than just one, it seems like they were lost because they found themselves were they are.

      And it is specially brutal considering the one looking for the bear seems not to be a girl, but a woman.

      Ouch. This was great. I feel destroyed, and I love it.

      Amazing story. And welcome back, Pumpkin!

      1. OwO

        Thank you for the review ^^ I think this is the first time I started one one these knowing where it was going to end ^^; so that may have something to do with the more traditional structure (normally I just kinda wing these)

        That’s such a good analysis! I love how you dig deep when reviewing these stories. It puts into words aspects and perspectives I myself hadn’t really thought about yet.

        “Ouch. This was great. I feel destroyed, and I love it.”
        Muhahahahahaha =D

        Glad to be back ^^

    3. J. J. Peterson Avatar
      J. J. Peterson

      Great story! I love all the alliteration with ‘p’ in the beginning. The story is also a fun on the prompt. The idea that lost things get digested my a giant carnivorous plant is quite interesting. The gardener is also quite an interesting character. If he’s the caretaker of the devourer of lost things, what does that make him?

      1. Thank you for the review ^^

        If he’s the caretaker of the devourer of lost things, what does that make him?

        That is a very good question that I could probably go into for hours and hours on end…
        But that would kill the mystery 😉

    4. Strong Berry Avatar
      Strong Berry

      This was a really strong take on the prompt. The way you make us root for the protagonist who wants the woman out of her garden, only to reveal her child, the reason why she looked for the bear and came into this garden in the first place, was dead… A brutal, powerful twist.

      You did an amazing job!

      1. Thank you for your kind words ^^

    5. Lee Strangely Avatar
      Lee Strangely

      There’s always that trope of the mysterious hermit and their cooky house/shop. You wander in, either because you lost something or were simply curious. Everything’s so weird and almost scary. It makes you wonder if this person has skeletons in their closet or something worse. This story takes what you’d assume the character first entering the place is thinking, and gleefully says “they were right to fear it.”

      Initially there was some part of me that that was on the fence about the main character, not that they were bad or poorly written, just that I wasn’t entirely sure if they were the right character to focus on in first person pov (though that’s probably because like what I wrote above I initially thought of this as something that was more geared to be form the perspective of the person entering). Though the more I read on, the more I understood the reasoning and grew to like the choice. I liked the use of alliteration throughout the narrator’s thoughts, as they give the narration some personality and give off an entertaining sense of arrogance.

      Overall I’d say your grand return is great and well written. Hope you keep on writing!

      1. I love that trope! I wrote a story with that trope at the center of it over nano and it was a JOY to do (unfortunately due to continuity reasons and spoilers I have no idea when it will see the light of day XD)

        But yeah, I definitely see the appeal of that ^^

        For this story , the idea I wanted to explore had more to do with lost and forgotten as an intertwined concept and I knew I wanted the woman to be kept in the dark throughout it so that gardener made more sense in that context ^^

        Thank you for the warm welcome ^^ I never stopped writing fortunately and if wanna see what i did in the past months feel free to click on my name and look at my website ^^

        Only if you feel like it of course 🙂

    6. Asher Fable Avatar
      Asher Fable

      This is a beautiful brutal take on the prompt.

      It easily sets the world and characters in a way that’s easy to understand yet much deeper than the surface. The gardener with the sign that clearly says something along the lines of “do not enter” is understandably frustrated that someone didn’t notice and follow it.

      The woman, most likely the mother, can only remember her child’s toy rather than the boy himself. And while the gardener tossing the body back to the plant seems cruel it’s actually very much a kindness.

      I’d love to read more of this world.

      1. Thank you for the kind words Asher ^^

        You picked out exactly the things I wanted to focus on which makes me very happy =D

        Unfortunately these prompts to me are just a way to go off the beaten path and experiment. Each of my entries is on it’s own and I don’t have any sort of expansion or follow up planned at the moment.
        I kinda have a bunch of projects that need to be taken care off first ^^;

        If you want to read something of mine that’s long form you could click my name and get sent to my website.

        Or if you’re more of the DIY variety I have no issue with you taking this story for inspiration and buiding your own expanded universe around.

        If you do though, let me know 0.0 I’d love to read it ^^

  21. MacBoiZen Avatar

    Desperation’s Resting Place (Alchemy’s Kin Unofficial)
    By MacBoiZen

    The cold feeling of boots on his face was not unfamiliar to Hayato. He’d expected as much when he saw signs of an underground alchemy ring and a Philosopher’s Stone, and to be fair to himself, he’d kept himself out of trouble for the most part. For each beat down he received, there was an exponential gain in information the next time around.

    But this time, he may have rattled the cage a little too hard.

    “Not so clever now, eh, little punk?” The hooded figure dug his heel into his captive’s cheek. “Just couldn’t keep your nose out of other people’s business?”

    Hayato only growled in response.

    “I’ll give you this. You got further than a lot of people have. Most of ‘em don’t even make it to the entrance,” he continued, looking up and motioning to someone out of Hayato’s sight. There was a shuffling sound, followed by the metal scrape of a door opening. From it came a cacophony of sounds: two pairs of boots striding in rhythm, as well as another pair of shoes frantically skittering across the floor.

    He didn’t know who had come in, but he soon found out once the body had been unceremoniously flung down beside him.

    “Mirai?!”

    There his sister was, bound and gagged, silver eyes seemingly glazed over, twitching miserably and wincing in pain.

    He knew what was happening.

    Her erratic visions of the future had gotten worse.

    “Damn you!” Hayato yelled, trying in vain to break his bonds. His captor crouched down, a smug grin lining his face.

    “Your pathetic antics end here, thief” he said, pulling a silver revolver out of his pocket. “You mess with the Reaper, you—”

    “I think the Reaper will decide that for herself,” rang a low, intimidating voice that seemed to suck the life out of the whole room. Hayato looked up.

    A slender figure stood above them, red eyes glowing out of a menacing black mask, scythe on its shoulder.

    For the first time in his life, Hayato had no idea what to do.

    1. i-prefer-the-term-antihero Avatar
      i-prefer-the-term-antihero

      “The cold feeling of boots on his face was not unfamiliar to Hayato.”
      –What an opener! somehow it feels both emo and badass simultaneously XD

      “For each beat down he received, there was an exponential gain in information the next time around.”
      –I love the optimism in this.
      “Ah man, sorry you got beat up. That black eye looks awful.”
      Hayato: But I got *information* tho!! 😀

      Me: Ah, yes, Mirai. The Japanese word for future. I wonder if she’ll have future powers. Probably not though
      You: “Her erratic visions of the future had gotten worse.”
      XD
      Also, more seriously, what does this mean exactly? That she saw what was going to happen to him and came to rescue him? Or that these guys somehow knew about her power and wanted it?

      Something I’ve noticed you’re very good at is grounding us in the scene and making it easy to follow the action, which is very true of this story. I especially liked the part about all the sounds Hayato hears when they bring his sister in, keeping us in his perspective but still grounding us in the scene. I also like the intensity of the description of his sister.

      I also think you grounded us very well in the character himself. Within the first few paragraphs I feel like I have a very good grasp on both what he’s been doing and what king of a person he is.

      The only place that I got confused action-wise is: “He didn’t know who had come in, but he soon found out once the body had been unceremoniously flung down beside him.”
      Usually “body” means “dead body” so I got confused when it turned out she was alive.

      I really love the ending with the Reaper. I do love me a badass lady villain.
      I don’t know if she’s actually the personification of death in your universe but it seems us in the foundry like our female deaths XD
      Actually my main guess right now is that she’s Lilith, (especially because her eyes are red and he heard info of a philosophers stone).

      I’m a bit torn on the last line. On the one hand, I like it because it’s an intriguing cliffhanger, and unique. Talking about how terrified he is might feel a little more cliche. However it also sorta falls flat. Not knowing what to do is a very passive thing, whereas actively feeling an emotion hits harder.
      I also think it would have been really powerful if the last line mirrored the beginning more. Which may have been what you were going for, but he seemed to me more like someone who flies by the seat of his pants, but never gives up, not someone who always knows what to do/has a plan. …I can’t think of a better mirroring line at the moment though.
      Anywho.

      Great job!! As always, your stories leave me wanting more!!

      1. MacBoiZen Avatar

        That’s a totally fair critique, honestly. I wasn’t entirely satisfied with that one either, but the word cap limited how descriptive I could have been in that last section. If I had more, I’d definitely replace it with something more…emotive, I suppose.

        And thanks for the positive critique as well. I’m trying to flesh out the universe a bit more, so I thought I’d go with some characters I’ve been cooking up for a while as well. They’re not fully realized just yet, but I’ve been wanting to write more and more, so maybe I’ll get to that soon.

        Thanks!

    2. Well. That doesn’t sound like it’s going to end well for anyone.
      I do get the impression that The Reaper wants something from them, even if it’s just information. Maybe services?

  22. The Buried and Repressed (Darkspell Universe)
    By Alex Nightingale (aka Spectre)

    Valerie had seen a lot of things in this strange world made of dreams, but going uphill in a river was new, even for her. The boat she’d found was a small fishing vessel, she’d found washed up and wrecked on a sandbank. She eyed the sky warily, but no glowing gash opened this time. It promised to be a quiet dream-walk.

    The buzzing in her head started long before she even reached what caused it. Like a beehive in her skull, her mind felt suddenly active. Goosebumps rose on her arms, as something unseen began to flood her mind. For the first time in her life, Valerie felt something she’d never felt before, while dream-walking.

    She felt pain.

    It wasn’t the same pain as a cut or a scratch. It was something beneath the surface, breaking into her mind with a ferocity and desperation, rarely seen outside of starving predators. From all sides, something began to bear down on her. A kind of terror, not like what she knew from books or movies, but something real. Real horror of real people.

    Valerie screamed as the weight of this horror began to overwhelm her. Images flooded her mind. Impressions tried to force their way into her senses. She hadn’t even noticed that she’d fallen off the boat and was steadily floating on the stream, pulling her down the hill, further and further away from whatever was swarming her.

    She tried to force it back, to push it off her, like she had done so many times before. Any bogeyman, any nightmare cowered before her; feared her, like their victims feared them. But this was different. This was like trying to pry nails from a plank with your bare hands. Every time she managed to wriggle one free, another would take its place, piercing the hull of her mind like a bullet.

    Then, Valerie did something she hadn’t done in years.

    She jerked awake. With a yelp, she shot bolt upright, clutching her stinging chest, staring ahead. For the first time in years, she’d felt out of control.

    1. Ooooh I like the imagery in this one!
      I have distinct Alice in wonderland vibes but the dark kind that shows wonderland twisted in some way ^^

      It’s quite apparant to me that Valerie is normally very comfortable while dreamwalking and this is her domain, her space. Which made the pain and terror even more vicious and heavy.

      “This was like trying to pry nails from a plank with your bare hands” is my favourite line I think, just because I feel like while very few people have tried it, anyone an easily imagine what it’s like ^^

      Keep up the good work!

    2. Ooo I really like this one. The imagery is done so well. As is Valerie’s expertise with dream walking. You really get the feeling that she’s done this time after time and only now is she having a problem (discounting the Dream Eater reference) But because of that, it makes it all the more terrifying when there’s something she can’t explain.

      The fact that it’s just causing her so much mental anguish that the only way to get free is for her to wake up comes across so well.

      Well done!

  23. Aracnarquista Avatar
    Aracnarquista

    Nowhere
    By Aracnarquista

    That marble you never see anymore. The letter you left half written, intending to come back to, but then forgot about. The watch that belonged to your late grandfather, which you cherish but can’t remember where you last seen it. That idea for a story so interesting and fresh you knew you had no need to write it down at the moment, since there was no chance you would forget it.

    You know where they all are, really.

    They are Nowhere.

    Which is a confusing thing to wrap your head around, isn’t it? Nowhere is the place where the lost things go… except that it is not really a place. Nowhere is… strange.

    Nowhere is more like a state of being. A quirk of space. An anomaly. Something that happens to what is truly, irretrievably lost.

    You see, misplaced things can have something akin to a gravity effect to them. It is not that they attract other objects with mass, mind you. But they do attract something. They attract memories associated with them. And as a black hole consumes mass and entangles the information about it so that in the end all that really remains is mass, electric charge and angular momentum, lost things also consume those memories and mangle what we could narrate about them. After the lost thing achieves emotional criticality, it bends space into Nowhere, and all that is left is its absence and the sense of missing.

    Those things are never to be found, for they are Nowhere to be found.

    So, you see, Nowhere is not really a place, but a state of being. And it does not just happen to something all at once. It takes time (and a bit of neglect) for something lost to really get Nowhere.

    So it begs the question: how did you get here?

    1. I really enjoy the pressing of the audience at the beginning, the statement that the reader is aware of what this place is, even if they cannot put it to words. It works well with the question posed at the end, now that they know it and understand it, are they ready to embrace it? Very interesting idea, very well written.

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Thanks a lot, Gradius.

        Yeah, I had the impression that this idea would mostly be a mix of a strange descriptions and musings on what is lost and how Nowhere works, so maybe there would be much of a story in there. So the idea of calling the audience as part of it was my strategy to keep it engaging, and to make something of an arc of discovery of the whole thing. I’m glad you liked it!

    2. I really love this one. Not only is the language gripping, with its sense of musing and wonder and all those tidbits that pretty much anyone knows from experience, that whole concept of Nowhere is absolutely fascinating. What ended up there already?
      And then there’s this question right at the end. How indeed?
      It’s the perfect story for philosophical shenanigans; not only does it remind me of quite a few things I myself lost/forgot (like those dreams that you only remember partly, or even just in feelings), it also reminded me of that ‘concept’ of someone not being dead completely until they are forgotten. So, maybe this “you” is someone that had exactly this happen to them? Who knows?

      You might have already noticed that this is the exact kind of story I love, the one that makes you think and wonder. Thank you so much for writing and sharing this one!

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Love to read that comment, DaLeen! And I’m glad that those are the stories you like to read – those are also my favorite ones to write! Taking one idea and developing it into a spring board for even more questions (and, if successful, something akin to a wondering experience)… that’s what writing and literature are for me, what calls me to it. So it is great to know those interests have echo in this community. Thanks for the comment!

    3. I love this concept ^^ the idea that things that are out of sight actually physically disappear ^^

      I feel the explanation of how it works exactly did remove the mystery around the phenomenon somewhat, which doesn’t have to be a bad thing per se but in this context I personally would have liked the physics of it to remain unexplained.

      But then you throw in a banger final line and I’m like “Oooooh! nice!”
      And then I really like it again ^^

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Hehehehe. Thanks a lot for the comment and feedback, Pumpkin. Yeah, I see that it could be a little bit heavy in the mechanics of it, and that could detract from the mystery and wonder. Perhaps there was some other way to have described that part that was not so explanation-heavy or analogy-heavy, but I also thought it was somewhat necessary (there is one idea there I really wanted to put into the story, and I really like the language of that particular part). But maybe with more time I could have found a better balance. Still, great that the ending got this redeeming quality!

    4. Strong Berry Avatar
      Strong Berry

      This is a really cool take! Though “the place where all lost things go” is something I expected from the prompt, what I did not expect was just how well it your execution was. You managed to make Nowhere seem like an actual place. What a wonderful paradox!

      If it wasn’t obvious, you did an amazing job, but I gotta go now to look for my phone. Surely it can’t be far away, right?

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Paradoxes are some of the things I enjoy the most writing about (and even when I am not directly dealing with them in my writing, my subjects tend to at least be paradox-adjacent, or to deal with things that try to break the categories so far applied to them). And this one grew from the perception that I have already played with some ways to make the concept of time feel a little more bizarre than we usually experience… lost things seemed like a perfect opportunity to do something similar to space!

        And let’s hope for the phone to still be reachable! Though, to be true, once it gets Nowhere, I don’t think the concept of “far” would be proper anymore, anyway.

        Thanks for the comment, Berry!

    5. Lee Strangely Avatar
      Lee Strangely

      The explanation as to what nowhere is and how thing end up that way is fascinating and the idea as you describe it intrigues me. The whole thing feels like the opening prologue of a bizarre and trippy story. I can imagine this being read by Rod Sterling and accompanied by strange imagery. It makes me think back to Kingdom of the Crystal Skull when Oxley refers to “the space between spaces.” I overall don’t have any problem with this piece. Though if I were to nitpick, it occasionally drifts close to being more of a random philosophical debate rather than a story, but it isn’t a real problem here. I’d say you done a done good job!

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Thanks a lot for that comment, Lee. I love that imagine, and know I will imagine the voice of the narrator as Rod Sterling’s (although, to be frank, almost any story would benefit of being read in that voice). And, yeah, I get it. In fact, most times I feel like I’m trying to disguise some discussion or debate into stories more than outright telling stories – I’m not overly concerned about it,. though. As long as the end product or the journey is worthwhile, I’m ok with one piece not being a proper story (though, the disguise stays on).

    6. Oliver Enslad Avatar
      Oliver Enslad

      I like this a lot, your writing when I read it always has a unique charm to it that breathes new life into the mundane. Nowhere has been over done as a real place of legend, but the concept of Nowhere described here makes it seem to be as if nowhere is constantly just beyond our vision’s veils. I appreciate the neglect comment at the end there, as a lot of things are lost due to that alone.
      But I also appreciate how it turns to break the 4th wall at the end. The only bit that leaves an itch on my brain is how abrupt and varied that 4th wall break is. I’ve reread it a few times, and I can’t tell if it’s something comforting or something dreadful being in the state of Nowhere. Especially if creatures are interacting with each other while in Nowhere, it just gets me more and more curious about your world!

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Thanks a lot for the kind words, Oliver!

        Well, to be very honest, although I feel like that break was, in a sense, announced at the very first time the reader is addressed, it was all a bit of a ruse to turn the description and explanation of Nowhere into something at least passable as a story. I am particularly happy with the way it worked out, but I can see how a lot of critiques can be made due to a lack of a real story, or how uneven description and narrative are.

        But I also like to leave some elements in the air, for the reader to fill the blanks. I’m not entirely sure who or what is talking to the reader, and who or what the reader might be. And that last question is very honest as well – I don’t know how you got here in this story (or Nowhere)… So, being curious is something we share!

        Once again, thanks a lot for the comment.

    7. Arith_Winterfell Avatar
      Arith_Winterfell

      A really interesting, and philosophical exploration (which I LOVE) of loss and the state of being (as you put it) “Nowhere” as a state of existence (or rather non-existence?) rather than a mystical place.

      You use scientific terminology to good effect in the piece, drawing on black holes, electric charge, and momentum to express the loss and remnants of identifying characteristics.

      While at first I felt this piece was largely more philosophical and experimental rather than a traditional narrative story, the final question is a nice “punch” to the discussion imply the reader his or her self has entered a state of non-existent existence in the “Nowhere” state.

      An interesting twist ending, and an interesting thoughtful experiment in expressing loss!

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Thanks a lot, Arith!

        I’m glad you liked the discussion and the analogy with black holes. I wasn’t sure how far I’d like to push that analogy, but the amount used seemed like a good compromise between clarity and not overly indulging in comparisons and specificities. And I’ m incredibly glad that the ending has worked! It really wasn’t the “meat” of what I had in mind, but it is very satisfying to know that the discussion could be narrative-shaped at least in a sense, and, better than that, enjoyable as a narrative! Thanks again for feedback and the kind words.

    8. This is wonderful! It feels so informative, yet whimsical. It gives a dash of nostalgia with two parts melancholy. It feels wonderfully scientific, all while poetic and understandable. It feels scary, but not in the way most horror is. There’s no monster pinning you, no creeping thing waiting to kill you, only a force of nature that feels terribly tragic. The last line feels horrible, tragic, devastating, and weirdly cathartic. I LOVE this piece, and I hope it does you well.

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Thanks a lot, Sam.

        This was a fun one to write, and the idea of playing with a space that was not a space come as soon as I knew what the prompt for the week was.

        And a dash of horror to give any small story a bit of a zest is never a bad thing!

        So glad you liked it.

  24. Twenty-Five (based on [a true story] something my son said)
    By Taja DaLeen

    We need to run once more. The same race, against time and each other.

    A race of life and death.

    Or rather, as close as we can get to death. Having to start over, to run again. That is our sole purpose of existing. We are nothing but tools you use.

    But that is simply how this world works. It’s not like we have anything against it; but also not like we have a choice.

    Every team is waiting. Differently colored, standing perfectly still, right at the starting line. Both dreading and looking forward to the signal to run.

    One of my teammates is first. He starts running, and soon is off into the distance. It doesn’t take long until we don’t see him anymore.

    Soon after, someone from an enemy team passes our starting point; and then it’s my turn to run.

    At first I’m behind him. A few steps that make me the one chasing him. Closely. Breathing down his neck, reminding him that I could kick him out of this race any time.

    Make him lose.

    But then it happens. A small burst, and I run past him. I’m one step ahead of him.

    Then two. I can’t run as fast. Not right now. Even though I want to. I don’t want to be one of the lost pieces. I can’t. We have to win this race.

    Another burst. I am quite a bit in front of him. But he catches up. Breathes down my neck now. I can feel it. Feel him standing right behind me. Just that one step.

    My insides contract. I feel wooden. Trapped. I don’t like this. Not one bit. I don’t want to be here. I want to run. Far. But I can’t.

    The die won’t allow it.

    And then he reaches me, landing on the same spot. Kicking me out. Sending me back to the starting point.

    Making me one of the lost pieces.

    And back there I meet all of my teammates. They are waiting for the next chance to run as well.

    Seems like you’re losing the game.

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      That was very surprising. At first, I really though you were describing an sport event (and with that impression, the use of the term pieces seemed at once poetic and quite brutal as well – which works with the whole matter of life and death).

      I just got to the realization of what it is describing when the other piece lands in the same spot. And then… I really liked how “all the pieces ended up fitting together”. The language employed before kept the same brutal poetry they had before, but now in a different scale, with a different perception.

      This was a very surprising and delightful use (and in a sense, subversion of expectations) of the prompt. I love it.

    2. Tamela Redfin Avatar
      Tamela Redfin

      Awesome take on the prompt! Also well described.
      Also, nice to take something that was said and make it into the prompt.

      Still want to add this my canon:
      Brother: I’m taking this
      Sister: You could say… please.
      Brother: Please, I’m taking this.

    3. I earnestly enjoyed this story. I was trying to piece this together at first, first trying to figure out if the death talked about was symbolic or real, then thinking maybe it was a metaphor for the stress competition can create on relay runners. Then it hit me “The die won’t allow it”, one line that completely flipped me on my stomach. Well done to you, for making a game of Sorry so captivating, thrilling, and enthralling. Re-reading the story, it’s still exciting, even knowing that the entire story is simply about pieces moving across a board. The language used is amazing too, with great use of double meanings.

  25. Shame
    By: Gadrius

    “I have done as you commanded. I wish to see him now.”

    A wicked laugh came as his reply. “Very well, my loyal servant. You have earned this day your keep.”

    Ozeran watched as the familiar plume of dark smoke billowed up from the stones before him. It quickly coalesced into the form of a skeletal figure with bony joints and a long, black cloak. The Master leered at Ozeran, twisted ebony antlers wreathing its skinless face.

    Ozeran did not see the cage appear beside the Master, yet there it was. Tightly woven fibrous cords left almost no open view to that which was held within. A black pewter door adorned the face of the cage, the prison’s only escape.

    At the sight of the box, Ozeran dropped to his knees. The guilt of the work he had done in service of the Master weighed suddenly on him like a stone around his neck. The Master’s gnarled fingers moved to unbolt the cage, and Ozeran was struck with a sense of panic.

    “Wait, no! I rescind my request! He cannot see what I am become.” Ozeran could not manage to even look up from the stony ground as he spoke, so overwhelming was his fear.

    The Master cackled again, a monstrous, hateful sound. “Nonsense, my loyal servant. This is what you have earned.” And with a loud creak, the metal door flew open.

    From within the cage, a soft whimper was heard. Quiet, but mournful. Then the thing held inside the cage took a step to the door, careful not to exit its prison.

    Tears rushed to Ozeran’s eyes as he caught sight of the precious, innocent features of the child’s face. Tender, warm, and trusting, the child looked at him with round eyes. Ozeran sobbed audibly, unable to contain himself.

    The boy spoke, his voice sweet and pure. “Is it safe? Can I come out now?”

    “No,” was all Ozeran could manage between gasps, “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

    With that, a final cackle echoed across the stones as the Master swung shut the door of the cage.

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      Ouch, this one is devastating.

      There is a lot implied rather than told, and for this particular story, this work very, very well. I don’t know what terrible things Ozeran made on orders of his master, or how that shame could be perceived (not sure if what he has become is referring to his acts or to something more that might have happened to him), but the possibilities alone work in its favor. And the answer that it is not safe to come out, even if all the things he had done were done in order to free whoever or whatever is in the cage (perhaps even Ozeran innocence itself)… chilling.

      Great story. Thanks for sharing!

  26. The Depths
    By Malqui

    He awoke with a start, coughing violently. It was dark, yet moonlight illuminated his surroundings in a deep blue. His hand soundlessly squelched in the ooze coating the ground upon which he sat. Strange plants swayed in the thick currents that rippled across his stained shirt. A painful throb pulsed through his skull. Images swirled about his mushy head like poison.

    A lonely dark apartment. A city of neon signs.

    Standing up, it felt as though he was floating. He tried to scream, yet his voice fell silent in the dim light. Above him, he could see the moon flickering radiantly, obscured by a rippling barrier.

    More memories briefly snapped into focus.

    A desolate bar. A bottle of something soft, somber, and bitter-sweet.

    Feeling his feet slowly lift off the ground, he clawed at the fog surrounding him. While slippery, he felt some traction and propelled himself slowly upwards. The fog grew thick like pudding as he ascended.

    A drunken walk down a cracked sidewalk, Cars whirring past; their windows reflecting the face of a regret-filled life.

    He was almost there, reaching upwards through the ooze now surrounding him. He could see the moon but inches from his fingertips. He felt his body becoming heavier with each pull, dragging through the heavy sludge until it was almost too heavy to move.

    Just then, he saw it! An arm dipped slightly below the barrier, barely enough to reach. Flinging himself in one final attempt to grab it, he hoisted himself through the thick barrier and emerged out into the cold night air. The iridescent stars gleamed in his white pupils.

    looking down to the arm that had saved him, his eyes widened. There, floating atop the lake was his own still body, growing ever distant from him as he began drifting upwards still.

    At that moment, everything clicked. Suddenly a deep melancholy beset his weary being. He never made it back home that night. He’d lost his way. He’d lost his balance.

    There above him glistened the bridge that crossed over the lake.

    1. I love this, holy cow! Your use of descriptors as the scene reflected externally the emotions the protagonist was feeling internally is phenomenal. The realization being a single line at the end perfectly puts into context everything that came before! The alternating paragraph lengths also do a lot to keep me engaged and build the tension. Great work.

      1. Thank you! I appreciate you reading it. I had to fiddle a lot with the way the paragraphs were structured before I felt satisfied with the piece. My aim was to write it like cutscenes in a movie, snapping in between the present and flashbacks.

    2. This was an interesting story, but I do have to admit that it was quite confusing when I first read it. Somehow it all just didn’t fit, and I could hardly get into the story, or even imagine what was happening.
      On the second read though, knowing what is happening, it became a hell of a lot easier, and I could really appretiate the imagery and atmosphere; and I’m quite happy I did decide to read it a second time.
      I just get the feeling that if it was a longer piece this might have been a problem. And while maybe that is a me-problem, for the first read it might have been easier to get into if the imagery (especially right at the start; the sentence with the ooze tripped me up quite a bit) if it wasn’t that… conplicated? Not too sure what exactly to call it.

      But except for that one thing, which was only a thing when I first read it, this was a nice story. Thank you for writing and sharing it.

      1. Though my aim was to keep the reader shrouded in the same confusion the protagonist was feeling, I did hope to alleviate that with the final line. As the writer, I can only really view it from the perspective of someone who knows exactly what’s going on from start to finish, so making sure that my intentions befall the audience the first go around is definitely something I try to assure. Thank you for your feedback, I’ll definitely keep it in mind when writing longer tales, as re-reading can most certainly be tedious. I am glad you got it in the second go around, however! Thank you for the re-read 🙂

    3. MelancholicOtaku Avatar
      MelancholicOtaku

      I definitely have to re-read this , the story is a mixture of amazingly good but also bit confusing but the confusion makes the story entertaining because you don’t know what’s going on so now you have to read it over again. I have quite a couple of questions I want to know, our Mc what was his life like before and his breaking point how did it happen.Also the way you describe emotions spectacular,.

  27. Constellasphere Avatar
    Constellasphere

    “Missplaced Belonging”
    By Constella

    The Archives had been an absolute travesty when Ares had begun. Books and papers were scattered everywhere haphazardly on whatever furniture available. It baffled him that the bookshelves had quite a bit of empty space but were underutilized.

    He didn’t dare complain though, it was him that had asked to repay the Archiver’s kindness. When the woman had showed him the seemingly endless maze of rooms and bookshelves, she had tried insisting he didn’t need to. “Everything will find its place eventually.”

    He didn’t understand and gave a look of disbelief. She returned it with her own that held sympathy, but didn’t dissuade him.

    Ares worked solitarily and preferred it so. He hadn’t spoken in years, communicating with others would be a hassle. It made it difficult to keep his own thoughts at bay, so he would flood his mind with titles and words and names. Patterns would also come to form, and from those, organization. All aspects of these collections of knowledge came together as they were put in their rightful places once more.

    There weren’t many ways to tell how much time had passed or how long he’d been working. It could have been months or years since he’d first begun; at some point, he’d been woken by the Archiver’s pleased sounds. Opening his eyes and raising his head from the table, Ares saw the woman prancing about like an excited child. Yet every part of her, from her long white hair to the train of long feathers that followed behind her, flowed with elegance gained over a long lifetime.

    The young man turned to the bookshelves now lined with materials. Despite being the one to accomplish it, a part of him couldn’t believe this Herculean task was now complete. In a way, the Archiver was right, they had found their rightful places.

    Ares knew he should have felt some sort of happiness; relief, victory, content, something. He wanted so desperately to share in his employer’s celebrating, but couldn’t bring himself to do so.

    He could only gaze upon the books with envy.

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      This will sound like a bit of a repetition of what I wrote about last week, but you leave me no choice. That last line was a very powerful emotional punch.

      You really know how to land an ending, Constella.

      The whole thing overflows with the ideas of belonging, fitting in and being sorted out. Ares made a gangantuan effort to make to the books what he wanted would be made for him.

      The guy deserves a hug, and for someone to say he is not as messed up as he thinks he is.

      To my eyes, it has a very strong sense of disconnection between what one can accomplish in their work efforts and how one perceive that effort and how it should have reflected on them.

      Once again, I see you write a story in which an act, in its repetition, tells us a lot about how Ares does things, how he manages to deal with himself and how he feels. And once again, this narrative that seems to be about such a simple (even if enormous) task conveys a world of emotion.

      Thanks a lot for sharing such a good story with us, Constella!

    2. This is a really interesting set-up and story. I like how the Archiver is painted as someone, who took Ares in with kindness, but it’s still not a perfect system. While the Archiver may have had the best of intentions, I can understand Ares’ frustrations with the archives and their perpetual state of disorder, since he wasn’t given any clear instructions on what to do.

      I do sympathize with Ares. I feel like he’s on the verge of total self-isolation (or more likely has already reached it), where is just shuts everyone out and tries to keep to himself. The ending line also hits really hard. He can see that all the books have found their rightful place, so why can’t he.

      Well written!

  28. Permanent residence

    (based on a true story)

    by Galer

    this was a place for the lost, be it people, concepts, Objects, animals, a mind after a mental illness claimed them, or even souls.

    although the stay was often temporary, they were always shunted out of this realm to return to earth, or the reality they came from.

    a concept being suddenly remembered, a mind finally cured, a soul finding his path eventually, and the lost couple finding their way back.

    however, some didn’t make it back and stayed permanently never found.

    this is why the veil of the lost wasn’t a depressing place, though there was always a sense of abandonment and melancholy.

    “so he never found us?” asked a bunch of magnetic metal balls and tubes that were connected to each other, a toy from a boy that lost them below the bed ” W…we don’t know what to think of this”

    “If there any consolation he tried to find you back” The one that talked to them was once a living concept that everyone forgot or simply let go over time never to be found again ” that and you influenced his life to be more creative right now he is writing a story”

    “Did he forget us?” the Toy asked a sense of loss going through all their collective minds, like a static shock if they could tear up they would now ” did we make him happy”

    “you did in the short time you were with him,” he said with a comforting voice ” and he remembers all of you from time to time”

    there was a comfortable silence for thirteen long seconds in which they walked the void-like hallway that twinkled with multichromatic spheres all around them.

    “so it is out of your system?” asked the being ” we need to find a resident you like, I would be a bad host if I didn’t”

    “yeah, we are, lead the way” their equivalent of a smile shifting in place.

    this wasn’t paradise, but everyone worked together to make it close to heaven.

    a bright wish in this sad world.

    1. MelancholicOtaku Avatar
      MelancholicOtaku

      First off wonderful use of the prompt, I’m guessing the main topic of the story is depression or perhaps it’s something else either way I felt like this before lost like I was in a void. Good job

      1. Wasnt really depresion but sadness at a lost object or toy you never found in your childhood.

        I wanted to be hopefull and at the same time sad but not in tragic way.

        After all hope and happines still shine even in the saddest of places.

        Thats why the bunch of magneds is happy rather thant sad at the end.

        1. MelancholicOtaku Avatar
          MelancholicOtaku

          Even better the brink of darkness with a bit of light coming thru, either way I love your story.

    2. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      This caught me unaware. It is at the same time very nostalgic and very bittersweet. A really good mix for this prompt, and a very interesting take that can be at once dramatic and hopeful.

      Your language in this story is a lot more poetic than usual. I really liked that style. I confess there were some moments towards the end of the story in which I got a little bit confused as to who was talking each time, but frankly, even that little bit of confusion didn’t detract one iota from the story. After all, the lost things (and moments, and concepts, and feelings, and…) all seemed to had this lingering sense of loss about them, but also the question if their time was a happy one and with purpose. And, I guess, they all found out that, yes.

      Really sweet story, Galer. Thanks for sharing it.

      1. I am glad I was capabel transmid the feelins across this time.

        Thanks for the feedback.

        Also thqnks for notifying the confucion.

    3. i-prefer-the-term-antihero Avatar
      i-prefer-the-term-antihero

      Galer, I love this so much!! Thank you very accepting my challenge, I really adored how you applied the idea.

      I really enjoyed how you took what I said about redeeming the memory, personifying your toys, and showing how they missed you, but ultimately ended up in a better place. I also enjoy that you redeemed the memory by recognizing the good that came from losing them: that it could inspire your creativity today.

      “did we make him happy”
      “you did in the short time you were with him,”
      –Is probably my favorite part. It’s so bittersweet, it’s beautiful.

      I also like how the lost things in this realm aren’t just physical. A concept being forgotten is a fascinating, well…concept! I do enjoy too that there’s hope not everything will be lost forever.

      I’m always a big fan of stories that have hope in them, or end on a happy note, even when there’s a lot of sorrow in the story, and I think this story is an amazing example of that. The entire story is a beautiful mix of melancholy and loss, and hope and new beginnings, that makes for a wonderful read.

      Overall I think your stories often come from/end in a hopeful (or simply fun) place, and, I must say, it’s something I very much enjoy about them in general.

      Thanks so much for sharing this!!

      1. well, I took the challenge because it was easy for me to picture it plus I wanted to try my hand at something esoteric and abstract.

        thanks for the feedback.

  29. Never Truly Lost
    by Weiss

    “Clink! Clink!”
    The clinking of hammers was the most prominent out of all the noises in a gargantuan workshop, one of the three largest – and the loudest – in the company. Rare din of the machines, occasional chatter, the sound of cutting wood meshed together into a background noise too heavy for the unprotected ears. A shine of the metal was blinding the eye of those not accustomed to it. Impressive in its variety, a collection of posters hanged along the walls, each with a different picture, but with the same slogan – “Reclaim. Repurpose. Renovate”.

    Eliash’s decisive steps made seemingly no sound amidst this chaos, despite his boots being iron-reinforced – as a safety precaution.

    “Sir!” a blond wimpy-looking boy rushed after Eliash, obviously intent on chasing him all the way to his office “Sir!”

    “WHA’ IS IT?!” Eliash shouted, trying to outvoice the rest of the sounds. And to an extent, he succeeded – years of working here had their effects on him.

    “SIR! We got a letter from Santa!” young man’s voice drowned in the ever present noise. Eliash barely could extract the sense out.

    “WHICH ONE?!”

    “Th-the blue one, sir”

    Eliash glanced at the boy, a mix of astonishment and disappointment in his stare, yet his face reflected nothing. He yanked the paper out of the youngling’s hands.

    “HEY, YOU! Repeat me again, what’re we doin’ ere?”

    “We find what was lost, fix, and forward to our clients!” a note of hesitation seeped through in the boy’s voice.

    “FOOL!” it almost seemed like Eliash was filled with righteous anger. Of course nothing like that. He just learned to fake it. For the discipline.

    “We don’t just take things an’ fix ’em! WE GIVE ‘EM A NEW LIFE! YOU GOT THAT?!”

    “Y-yessir!”

    “NOW GO! DON’T JUST STAND THERE IDLY!” Eliash shut the door to the office, throwing a letter on his desk. He will read it later. Probably an order for the new batch of toy trains, or something similar. The new year just started though – that means enough time to finish it.

    1. J. J. Peterson Avatar
      J. J. Peterson

      Great story! I love this take on the prompt, the idea that lost things are found, fixed, and repurposed is quite interesting, and I am so intrigued about what working in that line of work would look like. I like how you describe the factory, but I want to know more. To be honest, I wasn’t to hooked on the boy, after Eliash dismissed the letter. I still want to learn more about the factory though, that was interesting. I did like what Eliash said to the boy at the end though, “WE GIVE ‘EM A NEW LIFE!”. Good job.

      1. Thank you for your feedback! It is very appreciated. I’m glad you pointed out the ups and downs of the story, it really helps me grow! Thank you again!

  30. Let’s Make the Most of This Beautiful Day
    By Marx

    Daisy’s eyes narrowed in a threatening fury. “Look. I’m not into girls, okay? So-“

    “Yes, you are.” Mara interrupted, matching Daisy with a wide smile. “But that’s not why I talk to you. My heart belongs to Matt.”

    Daisy scoffed. “Sucks to be you then. Isn’t he Death’s fated mate or something?”

    Mara’s smile never faltered. “Yes. That doesn’t change my feelings.”

    “Well, you have fun with that and leave me alone, you clingy, little harpy.”

    “It’s so easy to take your pain and deflect it onto others, isn’t it?”

    Daisy’s eyes gained a sinister golden glow as she stepped to Mara. “You don’t know me!”

    “Don’t I? You know that I’m a demon, but… do you know what kind I am?”

    “I really couldn’t care less.”

    “I’m Filth. Born in Hell from a particularly heinous act of human sin. My life was nothing but pain and suffering until I escaped. And nothing but survival until I met Matt.

    “I am a personification of evil. There is literally no good in me that he didn’t put there when he took me as his familiar. And I cling to that goodness for dear life because… I know that without it, I’m a monster. Sound familiar?”

    Despite her fighting it, Daisy could feel the uncomfortable lump growing in her throat and the tears slowly welling up.

    “But you are not a monster, child. You’re a person who’s experienced so much pain that it broke you. But you chose not to remain broken.”

    “No.” Daisy choked out. “Will did that…”

    Mara caressed Daisy’s cheek, wiping a tear away. “The good in you is all yours, child. Will simply sees and nourishes it.”

    Daisy removed Mara’s hand. “Okay. I get it, Mr. Rogers. Now could you please leave me alone and go back to the Land of Make Believe or something?”

    Mara chuckled softly and backed away, melting into the shadows. “Of course. Just know that I see you. I am glad you are here with us. And I’m glad you exist.”

    “Great.” Daisy grumbled, slumping against the wall. “That makes one of us…”

    1. Scenes that deal with topics like this are always difficult to write, but I think you’ve done a really good job with this. The conversation between Mara and Daisy feels quite realistic, in the way that Daisy reacts. Mara also sound quite realistic, even if her syntax suggests that she is talking down to Daisy somewhat, with how she’s calling her “child”. I can see why she doesn’t seem very receptive to Mara at this point.

      It’s interesting, because Mara seems like someone who does care about other people, but doesn’t quite seem to get it right, when trying to talk to someone like Daisy. Given her history with Alex, I can see how being talked to like this might rub her the wrong way, which is exactly what you’ve shown here. I genuinely sympathize with Mara, but I think she what she’s saying is going to hurt Daisy as well. Not saying that it is bad from a writing perspective. Like I said, I think both Daisy and Mara are very well written in this scene. It makes it feel more real to me.

      Great story!

      1. Thank you so much! I’m really glad the dialogue came out as intended. This was a bit tricky to write because of how their personalities would clash. As you said Mara isn’t intending to talk down to Daisy, but she is a little bit. It does come to a matter of Mara being many, many times Daisy’s age but she still relates to the pain Daisy is going through is at least trying to help. But even if she had said the right words, Daisy isn’t in the right place to hear it just yet so it’s all a bit of a complicated mess.

    2. Strong Berry Avatar
      Strong Berry

      So your take is someone feeling lost mentally, not physically. Someone feeling like they can’t do any good, who wishes they were never born. And of course a demon, who is sin, knows that Daisy can, despite all she went through, do good. It’s sweet, but obviously Daisy has a long way before she can see the goodness in herself.

      You show you understand how it feels, and understanding is important with topics like these. Good job!

      1. Yes! That was exactly what I was trying to get across. I did want to go somewhere not quite literal with the prompt and I was really happy with how it came out. Thank you so much for the review!

    3. It’s weird, most likely wrong, and probably not even what you intended, but I love how it feels like Matt is collecting “lost” people.

      I don’t know if it’s a good thing or not, but I like that this feels like we were dropped right into the middle of an argument or something.

      1. Lol while not what I intended to be for the prompt, that is entirely what I intended as an aspect of the story. All three of Matt’s familiars and the alliances and connections he tends to make are almost always with some level of misfit.

        And I’m glad the being dropped in the middle of the argument thing worked. I was slightly worried about it being too jarring but I personally liked it.

  31. Tamela Redfin Avatar
    Tamela Redfin

    Found and Lost

    By Tamela Redfin

    Sapphira looked at her younger brother. “Hey Jasper, wanna play outside?”

    Jasper looked at her. “Yeah, let’s go.”

    Sapphira grabbed his hand and hurried off. Little did they know however, something didn’t want them there.

    “Look Jasper, a frog!”

    Though it took him a moment to pinpoint it, he smiled. “Whoa look at those clouds.”

    Sapphira gasped, “Those are thunder clouds. We need to find shelter.”

    Thunder roared and rain pelted the children. “Sapphira, I’m scared.”

    She was too, but wouldn’t admit it to her brother. “Let’s wait for Cece, okay? I can’t remember which way home.”

    He started crying and Sapphira hugged him. “Someone is gonna find us.”

    “What if they don’t.” He sniffled.

    “Mom will look for you.” She tried to assure him. Truth be told, could she rely on her mother?

    Footsteps were heard. “Jasper, stand behind me.” Sure, she probably couldn’t fight off a bear, but she had to protect her little brother. But wait, that didn’t look like a bear…

    “Sapphira? Jasper?” A male teenager’s voice called out.

    “Cameron?” Sapphira perked up. “We were outside to play, and…”

    “Hey, it’s okay.” He walked over. “The weather will only get worse. Come, let’s get you two inside and dried off. What’s Cecilia’s number?”

    Sapphira rattled it off as they walked over the mansion where the Boyle family lived.

    “Whoa, that’s huge.” Sapphira gasped.

    Cameron shrugged, “Eh, it’s comfortable. Now to call your cousin. She’s probably worried sick.”

    The phone didn’t ring for long.

    “Hey, I found your cousins. Yes they’re safe. After the storm I’ll take them home.”

    “Uh thanks Cameron.” Sapphira smiled.

    He chuckled, “It’s okay if you call me Cam, guys. I’m just glad I found you in time. The rain could have washed you two away.”

    Sapphira and Jasper stared out the window for the next few minutes. When would the storm end?

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      Your stories are always fast paced. Sometimes, this can make things a bit confusing. But here, this fits the narrative perfectly. Things happen fast, even when they don’t – such is the nature of storms.

      There are some moments that I really, really like. Moments such as how ominous the “something didn’t want them there” is right at the beginning, priming us to what is to come, and all the ways in which Sapphira is protective towards her younger brother, even though she holds her ground more because that’s the right thing to do than because she is really confident in herself.

      I also like how that last question can be very ambiguous, considering all the changes and uncertainties that are happening is this particular setting.

      Really nice story, Tamela!

    2. This was in the way Sapphira and Jasper interacted a very cute story, and like Arac said, the fast pace fits the storm quite well. I myself probably only would habe tried to get a bit more of those underlying horror tones in there, a little more emotion. But at the same time it fits the image of children in a way too, with their thoughts being a little more over the place, still.

      So, all in all, a quite enjoyable read, very interesting idea for this prompt. Good job! Thank you for writing and sharing this.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *