Fantasy
Imaginative scenarios, supernatural encounters, dream worlds
51 stories
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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.
Why Does the Morning Air Feel Like It’s Missing Your Skin?
The air in the club didn’t just vibrate with the bass; it felt like a weighted blanket pressing against my solar plexus.
Why Did You Leave the Lantern Lit?
The friction of his thumb against my clitoris is rhythmic, a metronome keeping time against the howling wind outside.
Did You Really Think the Water Would Stay Still?
He felt like a short-circuiting fuse box and she was the only thing standing between him and a total blackout of the grid.