Fantasy
Imaginative scenarios, supernatural encounters, dream worlds
43 stories
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A Copper Bolt, Thrown
I had spent a decade teaching students that 'show, don't tell' was the ultimate commandment, but as his tongue traced the architectural line of my hip, I realized I had never understood the weight of a physical verb.
Fracture
Elara felt the vibration of his intent before he even spoke, a low-frequency hum that settled deep in her marrow.
Solid Smoke
Her fingers were stained purple with juice from the crushed blackberries, a messy contrast to the clinical precision of her knife work.
![](https://miscd.fra1.digitaloceanspaces.com/medium/"i'm-not-sure-which-part-of-you-is-the-ocean"-679-cover-1778515265468.jpg)
"I'm Not Sure Which Part of You Is the Ocean"
My psoas muscle, usually a tight knot of professional composure, simply dissolved the moment his saltwater-slicked hand found the small of my back.
—but the rain hasn't stopped since Tuesday
I touched the copper rim of the basin and felt a spark jump all the way to my tailbone, sharp as a needle.
I Knew You Would Be Here
The resonance between us isn't a metaphor; it's a physical vibration that rattles my molars every time you step within ten feet.
Your Heart Is Moving Too Fast
She was vibrating at a frequency that would have shattered a lesser man, a high, sharp C-sharp that tasted like lightning.
June 14th, 10:22 PM
She stood in the center of my studio, a spill of silver light against the rough cedar walls, looking like something I’d have to shoot my way out of.
Treatment Room Six
The cooling wards in this place are a joke when you’re looking at me like I’m a cold beer after a July ruck.
Did You Think the Snow Would Save Us?
I am tracing the blue-black ink of the runes on your forearm and wondering if the ROI on this mistake is worth the fallout.
I Thought You Hated These Parties
I can feel the exact moment the ice hit your tongue because my own mouth suddenly tastes like bitter gin and cold iron.
Wet Ash
I could feel the condensation from her glass dripping onto my thigh, a cold, sharp contrast to the way her thumb was tracing my hip.