Fantasy
Imaginative scenarios, supernatural encounters, dream worlds
54 stories
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October 24th, 11:42 PM
He didn’t just occupy space in the bar; he seemed to be the reason the room was holding its breath at all.
Did You Really Think the Horns Were Part of the Act?
You were vibrating at a frequency that shouldn't exist in a city governed by the laws of thermodynamics and the MBTA.
October 14th, 9:22 PM
The mahogany desk was cold against her thighs, a stark contrast to the internal temperature spike recorded at twenty-one hundred hours.
Silas’s Matchbook
My pulse was doing the same frantic dance it did during the 2008 Lehman collapse, all high-stakes panic and impending ruin.
Julian's Fountain Pen
He tasted like expensive Scotch and the kind of trouble that gets you disbarred, but I didn't care about my license just then.
Did You Ever Find the Way Back to Brattle Street?
The air in the shop tasted of ozone and cedar, a sharp contrast to the damp, gray smell of the Cambridge street outside.
I Really Should Have Checked the Itinerary
He didn't just touch my skin; he reached for the hum of my nervous system, dragging his thumb along a ley line I didn't know I had.
Why Did You Leave the Cork on the Nightstand?
The humidity in the barrel room was exactly seventy-two percent, perfect for aging oak and the way her sweat didn't evaporate.
Why Did You Press Your Mouth Against the Cold Stone?
The air in the cellar didn't just carry the scent of oak and fermenting fruit; it carried the literal weight of her heartbeat against my own ribs.
Kaelen’s Compass
You were the only thing in that humidity that didn't feel like a lie, even though I knew your skin was a curated illusion.
Sloane's Carabiner
You didn't breathe like the others; you didn't even sweat, despite the brutal elevation and the humid weight of the Berkshire pines.
Why Was Your Pulse Always Faster Than Mine?
She leaned against the weight bench, her skin shimmering with a fine mist of sweat that looked like a high-budget lighting rig.