Adventure

City of plague:A New Yorker’s pandemic chronicle Pt 19.
In the Chinese lunar calendar, the first day of the fourth month is my birthday. Birthdays are strange things. They mark the beginning of a life, a moment that seems enormously important—yet none of us ever choose it. It simply arrives, quietly deciding the starting point of our existence.
By Peter10 days ago in Fiction
Rannor. Top Story - March 2026.
Rannor looked across the empty field that held wheat in season and watched the sun rise. Oranges, purples, and pinks eked their way across the sky, fighting past the mass of black smoke on the horizon that tried to blot them out.
By Aaron Morrison10 days ago in Fiction
The Glacier Vault. AI-Generated.
Dr. Kira Okonkwo pressed her thermal-gloved hand against the ice wall, feeling the vibration before she heard it—a deep groan that meant another shelf was calving somewhere in the Ross Sea. She'd been stationed at McMurdo for eight months, but that sound still made her spine straighten.
By Cordelia Vance11 days ago in Fiction
Fear Controlled Me for Years — Until That Day. AI-Generated.
I didn’t know when fear first moved in. It didn’t arrive like a storm. There was no dramatic entrance, no single moment I could point to and say, that’s when it began. It came quietly—like a draft through a window you forgot to close.
By Peter11 days ago in Fiction
I Stopped Waiting for Opportunity — I Started Creating It. AI-Generated.
I used to believe in timing. Not in the mystical, poetic way people write about in books, but in the practical, almost superstitious way that keeps you still. I believed the right moment would come, like a train pulling into a station—predictable, inevitable, meant for me.
By Peter11 days ago in Fiction
Hue and The Discovery of Manipo (Chapter 1). AI-Generated.
Being able to manipulate time — and slip into nearly any moment in history — comes with advantages so vast they’re almost impossible to rank. But two always rise to the top.
By Lorenzo Bland11 days ago in Fiction
City of plague:A New Yorker’s pandemic chronicle Pt 18.
One evening, my phone rang unexpectedly. The caller ID showed the name Mr. Li, president of the Southern Hometown Association. I knew him well. He was a respected figure in the Chinese community—calm, thoughtful, and never someone who called without a reason.
By Peter11 days ago in Fiction
City of plague:A New Yorker’s pandemic chronicle Pt 17.
Directly across the street from the building where I worked stood an old commercial property that had quietly witnessed decades of Manhattan’s restless life.
By Peter11 days ago in Fiction
The Forest Wants Me Back
Milkweed sticks to my shins. A thorn pierces my ankle. Blood drips. Turning to wax in the hot sun. Cockleburs cling to my cotton socks.
By Bride of Sound12 days ago in Fiction
The Colorado Kid. Content Warning.
The sun was setting low over the mountain. Pike’s Peak loomed in the distance casting a shadow over the dusty streets of Spencer, Colorado. The lights in the houses along the house row been lit and the good people of Spencer had taken to their homes for dinner and rest.
By William King12 days ago in Fiction
City of plague:A New Yorker’s pandemic chronicle Pt 16.
The sky that morning looked as if it had sunk into a deep gray abyss. Then, without warning, the rain began. At first the drops were scattered, but soon they grew heavier—big, bean-sized drops pounding the pavement with relentless persistence. The rain fell harder and harder until the entire city seemed swallowed by it. It had already been raining for an entire morning, stubborn and unyielding, as if the storm had made up its mind not to leave.
By Peter12 days ago in Fiction
City of plague: A New Yorker’s pandemic chronicle Pt 15.
During the long months of lockdown, when people were asked to stay home to avoid the virus, the city seemed to lose its heartbeat.
By Peter12 days ago in Fiction