Shortstories - Tumblr Posts
Gonna start posting short stories on my tumblr account. #tumblr #shortstories #shortstoriesofinstagram #shortstoriescollection #notebook #notebookdecor #notebookart #notebooklove #notebookcover #notebookdoodles #fiction #writingcommunity #writing #writerslife #shortfiction #art #artwork #artworks #patterns #colours #surreal #warmtones https://www.instagram.com/p/B_X8oYKhDSP/?igshid=1qfcg78f6dyp8
Welcome To Your Dreams
I could hear the music long before I saw the club. It was a haunting, unearthly melody that guided me to its source. The hidden places were summoning me again. It was a siren’s call and I was perhaps to happy, to eager to answer.
I approched an unimpressive two-story dive bar. The building appeared plain and nondescript to the uninitiated. However, all the symbology was there for anyone who knew how to look; fortunately for me I new what to look for. This place was a true haven perhaps one of the few remaining ones. A gathering place for those entities that preferred anonymity. Despite popular opinion all the things that go bump in the night were still in existence; many of them had gathered here. One of the few places they could exist overtly. The world had changed greatly since the advent of the advanced sciences propelled mankind to prominence.
C. W. Armstead, scruffysatyr
Welcome To Your Dreams (continues)
A gruff, mountain of a man stood guard at the door. He easily stretched beyond 6 feet tall and had a musculature commonly associated with men used to safe guarding others. The mane of thick dreads, that framed his deeply scarred face, hung down passed his shoulders. He looked up at my approach and a flicker of recognition danced across his face; an enormous smile creased his face from ear to ear. "I was wondering if you would come out this evening. Lord Blaze misses you deeply." "It couldn't be helped I am afraid. There were delays. How have you been, Titan?" "Still alive, which is more than I can say for the idiot that gave me these", with a great smirk he gestured to the fire red scars that crisscrossed his exposed arms and face. "They will heal friend, eventually."
C. W. Armstead, scruffysatyr
Short Stories (H.S.) (on Wattpad) http://w.tt/1prDQYr
These are Short Stories which involve Harry Styles.
Copyright ©theStylesproject 2016: ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. THIS WORK CONTAINS MATERIAL PROTECTED UNDER INTERNATIONAL AND FEDERAL COPYRIGHT LAWS AND TREATIES. NO PART OF THIS WORK MAYBE REPRODUCED OR TRANSMITTED IN ANY FORM OR BY ANY MEANS WITHOUT EXPRESS WRITTEN PERMISSION FROM theStylesproject.
Short Stories (H.S.) (on Wattpad) http://w.tt/1RNmtdQ
These are Short Stories which involve Harry Styles.
Copyright ©theStylesproject 2016: ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. THIS WORK CONTAINS MATERIAL PROTECTED UNDER INTERNATIONAL AND FEDERAL COPYRIGHT LAWS AND TREATIES. NO PART OF THIS WORK MAYBE REPRODUCED OR TRANSMITTED IN ANY FORM OR BY ANY MEANS WITHOUT EXPRESS WRITTEN PERMISSION FROM theStylesproject.
Short Stories (H.S.) - Not Interested (on Wattpad) http://w.tt/1P9SGaU
These are Short Stories which involve Harry Styles.
Copyright ©theStylesproject 2016: ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. THIS WORK CONTAINS MATERIAL PROTECTED UNDER INTERNATIONAL AND FEDERAL COPYRIGHT LAWS AND TREATIES. NO PART OF THIS WORK MAYBE REPRODUCED OR TRANSMITTED IN ANY FORM OR BY ANY MEANS WITHOUT EXPRESS WRITTEN PERMISSION FROM theStylesproject.
#53 Push a Little more this New Year (Harry Styles)
Where she wants her New Year spent differently than all her others, and Harry feels an attraction which isn’t reciprocated.
The writing style is a bit different, so do send a message if any explanation is needed. :)
A very Happy New Year to all you lovelies!
—
(She hoped this new year will be different. Till now, she spent every new year at a party with her parents, feeling quite lonely as her parents rejoiced with their friends, and she being the oldest of their kids, seldom had anybody accompanying her. But, she believed these holidays are meant to be spent with her family, even though her family hardly thought that, and she found herself alone, in a crowd full of people.
This year, she couldn’t go back for the holidays so, she was in the car with her friends, going to her friend’s house to a small town, somewhere in Cheshire. The plan was to go to a club with her friends, knowing she’ll still be alone at midnight wishing Happy New Year to herself, looking up to the sky, as her friends around her kissed their partners.
She didn’t mind being alone. She liked being with herself. She didn’t mind her company, and she found herself fortunate to be able to say that for she knew so many struggled with that. It was just these holidays, this winter season where she felt probably, a little warmth from some significant other would be a nice thing to have for once. She wasn’t very great with relationships. She blamed it was never having the time. She knew the reason was something else.
He was at home. Like he always was this time of the year. If he had a lover, he would spend the new year with her, but he didn’t and so his 23-year-old self, took the ‘have to spend time with family’ excuse to tell all his friends in the city, and chose to stay back and cuddle in the familiar sofa instead of being drunk in the start of another new year. He was being hopeful, his friends had a plan of taking him to the club, knowing people will be too sloshed to recognize him, and the club had a pre-booking for all their guests anyway.
He appreciated them. And he wasn’t too confrontational to change their plans either. So, he got ready, trying to dress in a way that didn’t call too much attention to himself in this small town, but he didn’t have that skill. His mind hopped back to how he could have increased the timeline of his last relationship, just for a winter cuddle to be selfish, but he knew he had been pushing it from the start. He blamed it on the time that he hardly had, he knew the reason was something else.)
Her: I don’t have a fancier dress than this one. (She held her black dress, which she thought complimented her body really well. It was new, it was velvet which was a fabric she thought she would never wear, but once inside the dress, she saw herself in an absolute different light, and she knew spending those pounds on it was so worth it.)
Amy: It’s black!
Her: So? It’s classy!
Amy: We are going to a club, where it is already dark, I want some colours on you! You know some colour to highlight that booty, and those boobs which I know need some attention.
Her: Let me wear it, and I know I’ll change your mind.
Amy: Okay, if not this you’re wearing the red cocktail dress of mine!
(Her friend always wanted the best for her and was the single person in her life always pushing her to do the different. She knew that this dress would make her proud. And proud it did! Amy whistled when she saw her dressed in that short dress, which was clearly a move to push herself. It was so different from what she usually wore, and Amy could cry.)
Her: You’re very melodramatic. (She was pleased, she did look nice.)
Amy: I feel like a proud Mom.
(He was sitting ready for an hour before they were set to leave. An hour he knew that would now get pushed to 30 minutes more because someone had forgotten something. He liked being early, he spent that time with his family who were ready to go to a celebration of their own, and he now didn’t feel very guilty of not spending time with them. He was grown up, and that is what people do - have their own lives.)
Him: Let’s take different cars, you know. If anyone wants to leave early, it’ll be easier.
Max: Good idea. I like how we don’t have to worry about drunk driving here. It takes five minutes to reach anywhere, anyway. Do you want to have some drinks before we leave?
(He nodded, he knew he could let loose in this town. He was home, after all.)
Her: So, are we going to meet more of your friends?
Seth: Yeah! Oh you’ll love them! We are going to have so much fun!
(He was high, as fuck and she couldn’t help but giggle at his excitement. Amy and Seth had been together forever, and so had her other two friends who had brought their partners along as well. She was glad she was with her friends this year though, she wanted a break from her time with her family. She always found herself to committed and the other never enough.)
Him: Okay, get out you fuckers! (Laughing)
Maria: Oh Harry baby, come here! (She teased. She had been doing it ever since he came back, and it was a bit weird because he didn’t see her like that. Max told him that she expected to go back with him tonight. He knew she was going to be disappointed, and kept away.)
Him: I’ll park and come, you guys get in, and get me a drink!
(He eyed Freddy who was informed to keep Maria from his drinks at all times. She was into drugs, and he knew how bad they could get.
He parked his car, looking ahead at the other car which had just parked and had people coming out. He recognised his friend who he knew planned to meet him here. He had his own friends from University with him this time so he couldn’t spend as much time as he usually did with him when they both were in town.)
Him: Seth!
Seth: Harry! (Screaming. One look and he knew he was high.) How are you, brother?
Him: Oh god, how stoned are you? (Brother was a term never used before in their context.)
Seth: A bit. Meet my love, Amy. Amy-Harry-Harry-Amy.
(He nodded courteously, and shook hands. Her other hand was holding another hand, a girl who was fixing her dress. It was like the movies really. She had long hair, so thick that they completely covered her face, while she stood sideways. She flicked her hair, and she turned, never leaving her friends hand, even though she needed both to fix herself. She managed and she turned, and the wind blew, and Harry had all the air knocked out of his body. She was beautiful. She was sexy, yes, his eyes trailed down to her dress which pleased her body so well, and he loved those heels, which made her legs look a little too angelic. He had seen plenty of beautiful women, but somehow he felt this one was calling out to him. He didn’t understand it.
He went back to her eyes, as she came forward, and they widened in shock. She didn’t know meeting Harry Styles was on the card today. She liked him, always had. No one warned her about this, cause she definitely had a crush on this man and, he looked a little too delectable, much too ravishing in the black suit he was wearing. The white shirt inside had his buttons open, and she wondered if he was cold. Thank god, the basement was heated, nor she knew this dress could go to hell, and she would rather be covered in her blanket in multiple layers in front of the fire.
He thought she had beautiful eyes. He didn’t think much about eyes, but with this girl, they stood out. He analyzed why, as he was introduced to her, and all the other friends. He looked for a boyfriend. Someone who she must belong to, and there wasn’t anyone, and she still held Amy’s hand.
She knew today was an exceptional day for her. She never looked like this. But, she was glad cause she met Harry Styles. At least she wasn’t in her usual attire which was hardly flattering and in her life, failed to attract anyone. She looked decent when she met Harry Styles and she will never regret this.)
Rhine: Would you like your usual, love? (Her friend asked her, as she looked around this club. It was supposed to be an invite-only, and she wondered what that meant in such a small town.
Her: Yes, please.
Matthew: Plenty of luck here love! (He wrapped a hand around her neck.) You can pick and choose the guy you like!
Her: I’d like you, Sir to be off duty this new year. (She laughed, knowing he was always searching a new partner for her wherever they went.)
Matthew: No fun. (He pulled his tongue out.)
(They had joined all of Seth’s school friends. It was a long list of Hello’s and Hi’s of people she knew she will hardly meet again. She had calmed down. Now, Harry was another one of the names and she smiled at the fact that he was here partying with his old friends, while he could be anywhere in the world right now. She approved of his character, and then looked around to see if there was anyone else in the crowd for her. Her heart always kept the hope alive, even after constant disappointments of dates that never worked out. A part of her felt if she was choosy. Maybe, but all good looking guys were idiots and, she never met someone who would really impress her otherwise either.
Getting drunk was easy. It didn’t take an effort from her, and she loved dancing. Wasn’t extremely fond of clubs, but the dancing she always was. He couldn’t get his mind off her. Which to be honest, never happened. He wasn’t too pleased, either. Who was she anyway? And, was he the only one who felt this attraction to her, or was it both ways and she was playing hard to get, or was he being a creep, or was it the fact that she didn’t like him. It wasn’t fair. He tried to look good today. Was he not her type?
He saw her dancing, giggling along with her friends, being very comfortable with herself. She slowed down when the song suddenly became a bit slow, and people around her took the hand of their partners, dancing and grinding together. She pulled her hair back with her fingers, her hands combing her hair, as she walked to the bar to get another drink.
The DJ was making out with his boyfriend, and another song for the couple was played when she came back with her drink. Harry was sitting down for the first one. But, he knew a druggie was eyeing him, and making his way towards her, so he quickly got up, and walked to the girl, who was looking around slowing taking sips of her drink. He pushed his hand out. She looked at it, and frowned, and then slowly took it. Her hands were cold, but he held tighter warming them up, and wrapped a hand around her waist as they danced to an Ed Sheeran song he knew the reference to.)
Her: So, a girl I was told the name of, but I don’t know now is staring at me.
Like with daggers in her eyes, staring at me.
Him: I think she wants to drug me. I overheard her plan while she was plotting with another druggie friend of ours, and I don’t feel very safe.
Her: I can protect you.
Him: I’d like that.
(It was a little difficult for him to find people who got his humour. He thought he was hilarious, there were few who agreed. Now he had found a girl who he was immensely attracted to, and who got his jokes and even responded to them. He, for sure, knew she wasn’t pretending.
Her inhibitions were down. She would have been incredibly insecure otherwise, but strangely she was feeling comfortable. He made her feel comfortable, and he laughed at her sarcasm, which 80%of people she met never really got. She liked him. She was pushing it, she knew it. He was way out of her league, so any thought of kissing him, which her hormonal self kept pushing forward were kicked and pushed behind, and she let herself enjoy this moment.)
Him: It’s almost midnight. (They had come out to get some air, but it was all glassed so they were just looking out. The attic sort of room, which was what they called it as well, didn’t have many people, and he was thankful for that.)
Her: Oh yes, we should go down!
Him: We could stay here. The fireworks will go up any minute.
Her: Why aren’t more people out to see it then? Oh wait, this is the VIP area. (Realizing, while he just smiled.)
Him: Do you like fireworks?
Her: They are my guilty pleasure. It’s just they cause so much pollution.
(She didn’t want to start off on a climate change lecture. That is what she did with people anyway. She was a little too intellectual. She found herself unable to talk about simple topics. She wondered what simple people talk about? She didn’t want to bore him)
Him: I agree. You know I was scared of them.
Her: I can get that. The noise really isn’t pleasant.
Him: Do you want to go down?
Her: No, do you want to pull that bouncy bag, and watch the firework?
Him: You are a mind reader.
(There was just one left, and he pulled that one, and they both looked at each other, wondering who should sit down first.)
Her: I’m not very heavy if you have strong legs.
Him: I am very rigorous with my leg workout. (He quickly nods, and sits down.)
Her: Let me know if you get tired. (She whispered, and she sat down, half on his thigh, and then shifted her body like they were almost cuddling. They were cuddling, and she chooses not to think about, and made sure that her short dress didn’t become shorter.)
Him: (humming) It’ll be any minute now.
Her: Do you think your attacker will look for you?
Him: I think, she is looking for me currently, but you’re keeping me safe. Do you think your friends will look for you?
Her: After they are done making out, they will. We can go after a while.
(30 seconds to midnight. They could hear the countdown start at fifteen, and her mind flashed to last year, where she was in a very different situation. She liked this one better.
13 seconds to midnight. His hand was on her thigh, and he liked how she didn’t make him pull it away. He wanted it to be there. The other was around her waist and he was proper holding her. He knew she felt that attraction, he knew she wasn’t indulging in it. He could guess why, but he wanted to push it. He wanted to kiss her.
7 seconds to midnight. She wanted to be kissed. The countdown was dropping and her head was cuddled in his chest, and she wanted to look up and be kissed.
5, 4, 3, 2, 1 HAPPY NEW YEAR! The lights went up, and she looked at the sky be lit up in colours, and she looked at him to see his reaction. He was looking at her, with his eyes a bit dreamy. His hand rose from her thigh and held her face. He didn’t think much and closed his eyes bringing his lips so close to her, but wanting her to make the move.
She paused was a second, seeing his eyes closed, his warm hand holding her face, and she closed her and pushed forward.
This New Year triumphed every other new year she had ever experienced.)
—
Comments? Opinions? Love for this new year?
Masterlist
Copyright ©theStylesproject 2016: ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. THIS WORK CONTAINS MATERIAL PROTECTED UNDER INTERNATIONAL AND FEDERAL COPYRIGHT LAWS AND TREATIES. NO PART OF THIS WORK MAYBE REPRODUCED OR TRANSMITTED IN ANY FORM OR BY ANY MEANS WITHOUT EXPRESS WRITTEN PERMISSION FROM theStylesproject.
Scales of Karma #onelasttime #2016inanutshell #karma #dogood #whatgoesaroundcomesaround #dogoodanditwillreturn #writers #31122016 #message #newyearseve #terriblytinytales #microfiction #trends #shortstories #livetotell #lessonslearnt #storiesthatcoach #loveall #dreamers #writersofig #poetsofig #whynot #laboursandleisures #smritimenon (at Bangalore, India)
Here We Go, Year Two of Harmony Healing Hub Blog! Shaina Tranquilino July 24, 2024
I can hardly believe it—Harmony Healing Hub is celebrating its first anniversary! A full year of writing, sharing, and connecting with all of you has flown by, and I'm filled with excitement as we embark on this second year together. Reflecting on the journey, I am deeply grateful for the encouragement, suggestions, and engagement from this amazing community. Your input has helped shape the direction of this blog, and I’m thrilled to share what’s coming up in the next couple of years.
Continuing My New Year's Resolution
One of my most fulfilling endeavours this past year has been my New Year's Resolution to donate to a different organization every month. This resolution has connected me with incredible causes and people, broadening my perspective and deepening my commitment to making a positive impact. I will continue to blog about these monthly donations, sharing insights into the organizations I feel called to support, their missions, and the difference they make in the world.
Diving Deeper into Tarot
Tarot has been a personal passion of mine for years, and I’m excited to dedicate more space on this blog to exploring it. I’m planning a special Tarot Blog Edition where I’ll delve into the meanings of each card, both upright and reversed. This series will be a journey through the Tarot deck, offering insights and interpretations that can aid in your personal and spiritual growth. Whether you’re a seasoned tarot reader or a curious beginner, I hope this series will inspire and enlighten you.
Sharing My Poetry
Poetry is another passion I hold dear, and I’m eager to share more of my work with you. Currently, I publish my poems on Instagram as TheTwilightTalesmith and have a few poetry books available on Amazon. This blog will become a new platform for my poetry, where I can connect more intimately with my readers and share the emotions and stories behind each piece. Expect to see a variety of poems that touch on different themes, emotions, and experiences.
Short Stories and Monthly Themes
A friend recently suggested that I share my short stories on the blog, organized by monthly themes. I loved this idea and am excited to incorporate it. Each month, I’ll choose a theme and post short stories that revolve around it. This approach will not only keep the content fresh and engaging but also allow me to explore different genres and styles of writing. From romance to mystery, fantasy to slice-of-life, there will be something for everyone.
A Realistic Approach to Blogging
While I initially considered dedicating one year each to tarot, poetry, and short stories, I realized that life doesn’t always adhere to such a strict schedule. Inspiration strikes unpredictably, and creativity flows best when it’s not confined. So, instead of rigidly sticking to a theme per year, I’ll go with the flow and write about whatever comes to mind that day. This approach will keep the blog dynamic and authentic, reflecting the natural ebb and flow of my creative process.
Thank You for Your Support
As we step into this second year, I want to extend my heartfelt gratitude to each of you for your support, feedback, and engagement. Your presence has made this journey incredibly rewarding, and I’m excited to continue sharing my stories, passions, and reflections with you.
Thank you for being a part of Harmony Healing Hub. Here’s to another year of creativity, connection, and growth!
With love and gratitude, Shaina
Introducing My Short Stories Blog Series: A Year of Thematic Tales Shaina Tranquilino August 3, 2024
Welcome to my short stories blog series, where imagination knows no bounds and each month brings a new adventure! I am thrilled to announce an exciting literary journey that will span an entire year, from August 2024 to July 2025. Each month, I will delve into a distinct theme, crafting short stories that explore diverse facets of human experience, fantasy realms, and thought-provoking scenarios. Join me as we embark on this creative voyage, where every story promises to captivate and inspire.
What to Expect
Every month, a fresh theme will guide the narratives, allowing for a broad spectrum of genres, styles, and perspectives. From the depths of mystery to the heights of romance, from the intricacies of human emotions to the wonders of speculative fiction, this blog series aims to offer something for everyone. Here’s a sneak peek into what you can look forward to:
August 2024: A New Beginning
September 2024: Mysteries Unveiled
October 2024: Haunting Whispers
November 2024: Tales of Gratitude
December 2024: Winter Wonders
January 2025: New Year, New Worlds
February 2025: Love and Longing
March 2025: Unexpected Journeys
April 2025: Rebirth and Renewal
May 2025: Adventures in Nature
June 2025: Summer Escapades
July 2025: Reflections and Farewells
To kick off this literary odyssey, the theme for August is "A New Beginning." There is something inherently inspiring about the idea of starting afresh, whether it’s turning over a new leaf, embarking on a new adventure, or transforming one’s life in profound ways. Throughout this month, I will be sharing stories that embody the spirit of new beginnings, exploring the hopes, challenges, and triumphs that come with embarking on new paths.
Why "A New Beginning"?
New beginnings symbolize hope, resilience, and the infinite possibilities that lie ahead. They remind us that every ending is merely a prelude to a new chapter, filled with untapped potential and opportunities. In this month’s stories, characters will face pivotal moments that redefine their lives, navigate through uncharted territories, and embrace the unknown with courage and optimism. From a young woman starting a new life in a distant city to an unexpected journey that leads to self-discovery, these tales will resonate with anyone who has ever dared to dream of a fresh start.
How to Follow Along
Each week, (or more if I am feeling up to it), a new story will be posted, inviting you to immerse yourself in the theme and connect with the characters and their journeys. Be sure to subscribe to the blog to receive updates and never miss a story. Your feedback and engagement are invaluable, so feel free to share your thoughts in the comments section and connect with other readers.
Join the Journey
I am incredibly excited to share this series with you and look forward to the shared experience of exploring these themes together. Whether you are a long-time lover of short stories or a newcomer to the genre, this blog series is designed to entertain, inspire, and provoke thought.
So, mark your calendars and get ready for a year of thematic tales that promise to transport you to new worlds, stir your emotions, and ignite your imagination. Here’s to a year of storytelling adventures and unforgettable journeys!
Happy reading!
Exploring Mysteries Unveiled: The September 2024 Short Story Series Shaina Tranquilino September 1, 2024
As the leaves begin to turn and the days grow shorter, we find ourselves entering September—a month often filled with transitions and new beginnings. In the spirit of embracing change, I’m excited to introduce the latest theme in my year-long short story series: Mysteries Unveiled.
For those new to this journey, each month in 2024 has been dedicated to a different theme, offering a unique lens through which we explore the depths of storytelling. From tales of love and loss to explorations of the fantastical and the surreal, each month has been a distinct chapter in a year-long narrative experiment. Now, as we step into September, we delve into the world of mysteries, where hidden truths, enigmatic characters, and surprising revelations take centre stage.
What to Expect from Mysteries Unveiled
Mysteries have always captivated our imagination, drawing us into a world where the unknown beckons. In this month’s series, you can expect to be pulled into stories where nothing is as it seems, and every detail could be a clue waiting to be unraveled. Whether it’s a small-town secret that’s been buried for decades, a detective’s race against time, or a seemingly ordinary individual discovering an extraordinary truth, the tales in Mysteries Unveiled are designed to keep you on the edge of your seat.
This theme offers a chance to play with a variety of genres. Some stories may have the gritty realism of a noir thriller, while others might dip into the supernatural or the psychological. The common thread? Each story will challenge you to think, question, and ultimately uncover the truth—whatever that truth may be.
Why Mysteries?
Mysteries hold a unique place in the world of literature. They engage our curiosity and challenge our perceptions, often leading us to confront our own assumptions and biases. A good mystery isn’t just about the twist or the reveal; it’s about the journey—the slow unraveling of layers until the core is finally exposed.
In many ways, writing a mystery is like constructing a puzzle. Every piece must fit, every red herring must serve a purpose, and the conclusion must satisfy the reader’s quest for answers. It’s a challenge I’m eager to take on, and I hope these stories will offer you the same thrill of discovery that I feel while crafting them.
Join the Journey
As always, I invite you to join me on this creative journey. Throughout September, I’ll be sharing new stories every day, each one adding another layer to the theme of Mysteries Unveiled. I encourage you to share your thoughts, theories, and reactions in the comments—after all, part of the fun of a mystery is trying to solve it before the final page.
If you’ve been following along since since 2023, thank you for your continued support. If you’re new here, welcome! There’s a whole year’s worth of themes and stories to explore, each one offering a different facet of the human experience.
Let’s dive into September with open minds and curious hearts. The mysteries are waiting to be unveiled—are you ready to discover them?
Stay tuned for the first story of the month, coming soon!
Happy reading, and may the mysteries keep you guessing until the very end.
A Month of Mystery and Shadows Shaina Tranquilino October 1, 2024
As the leaves turn crisp and the days grow shorter, October 2024 marks a special moment in my year-long storytelling journey. For those who have been following along, you know that every month for the next year, I’m diving into a new theme, using it as the creative fuel for a collection of short stories. So far, I’ve explored a wide range of moods and settings. Now, we’re stepping into the eerie, enigmatic heart of autumn, and I couldn’t be more excited to share what’s in store.
This month’s theme is Haunting Whispers.
October always has a certain magic to it, doesn’t it? The crisp air, the glow of pumpkins on doorsteps, the feeling that something unseen might be lurking just out of sight. It’s the perfect time to explore the strange and the spectral, the kinds of stories that send shivers down your spine and make you question every creak in your house late at night.
With Haunting Whispers, I’m going deeper into those unsettling spaces. This theme is all about the voices we can’t quite hear, the secrets hidden just beneath the surface, and the eerie sensation of being watched. Each short story will capture a different aspect of haunting—whether it’s literal ghosts, echoes of the past, or the unsettling whispers of our own minds.
Whispers, especially when haunting, evoke mystery and tension. They can be both intimate and terrifying, something we lean into to hear better, but recoil from once we understand. There’s a quiet power in them—they are hints of something greater, something unknown. This October, I’ll explore those subtle moments of dread, when the truth lingers just out of reach, tempting and terrifying us all at once.
Expect stories with a variety of tones—from ghostly to psychological, from paranormal encounters to more subtle hauntings, where the ghosts aren’t spirits but rather the echoes of choices, memories, and regrets. Some stories might be more traditional in their spookiness, while others will lean into emotional or existential hauntings.
Why Haunting Whispers?
I chose this theme because I believe whispers hold a unique place in storytelling. They can be soft yet insistent, subtle yet unforgettable. A whisper is never meant to be the main event—it's a secret, a suggestion, a call for attention without demanding it. That's why whispers are so haunting—they leave so much to the imagination. What is being said, and more importantly, why is it being said quietly?
For this month, I want to play with that tension—between what's being told and what’s being withheld, what we hear and what we imagine. October is the perfect time to tap into these shadows of storytelling, when the nights are longer and the mind is more prone to wander into strange, unsettling places.
I hope you’ll join me on this month-long journey into the eerie and unknown. Whether you’re a long-time fan of ghost stories or someone who enjoys psychological twists and emotional depth, Haunting Whispers will have a little something for everyone.
Each day, I’ll post a new story, and at the end of the month, I’ll reflect on what I’ve learned from exploring these darker corners of imagination. I’d love to hear from you as well—what whispers are you haunted by? What stories have lingered with you long after you’ve turned the last page?
This October, let’s embrace the mystery of the whispers, the things left unsaid, and the chilling feeling that someone—or something—may be watching from the shadows.
Until then, stay curious, stay haunted, and above all, listen closely. You never know what you might hear.
The Window Shop
Introduction:
Much like every story, this story has both a beginning and an end. If you aren't familiar with beginnings, this is our particular one. Often times, a story doesn't start at the conception of matter, from within the womb of nothingness, nor does it always end with the world resolving into a dust-filled grave. The story starts and ends with the beginning and ending of paper and ink; a window into a world is opened, and then eventually shut. However, not many stories have numerous stories within its stories; periodical glimpses into different worlds from within a world itself. To continue the analogy, multiple windows along its walls, almost like paintings, decorate the vessel, each window shining back with vibrant colours and sunshine or foreboding greys, riddled with rain and lightning. One might say that this story is a shop of windows, each window having its own personality and its own story to tell, waiting for you to take it home with you, to its new home in your heart. Our lovely shop is the intertwining stories of a young man going to his first therapist, his charming and cunning therapist, and a driven and grounded receptionist. Every person has their own secrets; every person lies; every person has opportunity for growth and goodness. If you dare, enter the “The Window Shop.” Interpret what you want, take to heart what you want, feel what you want, but you are merely guests in a shop, browsing its galleries of windows.
A Simple Man- Part 1
Being a thug used to be so elementary.
There was this raw innocence to the whole process.
It was all about simple mob mentality. And, lots of boobs and booze.
Like, I’m talking “gives a new meaning to ‘Land of Milk and Honey’” lots.
Of course, there was an actual “working” portion of the job. But, most of the time, with us simple, low-ring tough guys, one just simply had to show up and look tough. In all honesty, it was not a very tiring job. And, when the time came, you’d just have to get up off of your ass and throw your weight around. Men are normally good at that sort of thing anyway.
We were in the business of vice, supplying the greatest hits of depravity and indulgence.
However, a couple of these were notorious for getting you killed: drugs and guns.
Tits and booze got one close enough, for my own taste, to getting kicked to death in the filthy gutter of your favourite dive. You know the one, with that cheap classy shit that you like to buy. Yeah, there’s literal shit in that gutter. And, you’re gonna die in that shit. That shit will be the last thing you see and smell before some cocky son-of-a-bitch brings a bat down on your head like some fucking Mortal Kombat fatality killing stroke. That’s the kind of trouble drugs and guns bring.
We all have your basic intimidating blunt weapons, like bats and crowbars. But, some of us thugs need to compensate for small dicks, daddy issues, or both. Those assholes will have concealed guns. These guns make things messy, and definitely more illegal. You can’t pull any “But, officer, I was walking down to the park to play some ball” bullshit with that gun that’s about to accidentally shoot your dick off because you think it’ll impress some cheap hoe. Want to know what doesn’t impress prostitutes? Guys missing dicks. People often get less intimidated, and more dead, when guns are involved.
I’m no idiot, though. Even a lazy-ass like me trained up a little bit. I took a few boxing classes, to get some basic handheld fighting experience. I really wanna’ try Krav Maga. So fucking badass. But, those are life goals for you- best left for tomorrow.
All of these things may have some major complications and flaws, but, hey, we’re all human right? We all have the same flaws, same vulnerabilities. I love that about mankind: underneath all of the bravado, and the lies, and the armour, we’re all just simple flesh. No magic, or superpowers, or aliens. I was a simple man, in a simple time.
That’s when everything changed.
Changed how, you may wonder. Well, for starters, I’m currently hanging from a catwalk in a warehouse, moments from falling to my fiery doom because some douche-nozzle blew a hole in the wall, and now the warehouse is on fire. A guy with nunchucks; a guy is shooting fire out of his hands; a guy is flying. What the fuck is going on; I was not prepared for this bullshit. It turns out that we’re not all just simple humans after all. Magic, superpowers, and aliens all exist, and they all just fucking lit the place on fire. I’ve been taking scattered jobs for months now; finding work that doesn’t get you killed is harder and harder to come by. God-forbid I have to actually make an honest living. I heard about this job from a guy, who heard about it from a guy. It was supposed to be a clean and simple fraudulent goods shipment, just some knock-off bags and shit, I think. Like, Juicy, or Gucci, or Scholl’s or something. No drugs or guns involved- how much trouble could I get into? I just keep my eyes open, and walk around up on this catwalk, until the stuff gets picked up. Simple enough, right? Not so simple, now, huh, trying to lift my heavy ass back onto a catwalk. Being a thug is all about appearances. I had to scope out soft jobs, without looking like I was going soft. That level of dedication, of not getting sent to jail for life or getting shot to death, while still appearing tough, is exhausting. However, I’d like to maintain a certain level of living that I’ve actually grown a tad sentimental toward. Speaking of which, I’m still hanging here, all exposed and about to die and such. That’s when I hear the catwalk creak. Maybe I’m just hearing things, right? There’s a lot going on in here, with people blowing shit up, screaming, and gunfire. Then I hear a creak and a deep groan; this catwalk is going down, and soon. The explosion must done more to this catwalk than toss me like a consensual salad. Things are warming up below, too, as the fire begins to spread. Wait a second- what the honest fuck. Did I say guns? Who brought fucking semi-automatics? I bet those knock-off bags weren’t empty at all, and I’m pissed about it. With my luck, I’d even bet drugs are involved too.
“We know about your shitty fake bags, and that you’re smuggling drugs and guns in them. Surrender now, so we can save you, and take you to jail,” some pretentious, self-righteous asshat, with a booming voice, declares to anyone who hasn’t burned to death already.
Turns out things aren’t always as they appear. And, this job has brought a particular amount of literal and figurative heat that I really can’t handle right now.
Remember that one time the wall blew up, sending shit everywhere, and I got hit in the face, and knocked off a catwalk? I did that super ninja grab, like in the movies, but, no one was around to see? Then I was about to fall to my death? Fan-fucking-tastic times.