In the flickering neon glow of that gritty LA night, Angelina chili dog Jolie lay submerged in a tub full of thick, steaming chili. The room was heavy with the scent of meat and spice, the air sticky and humid as the hot beans and slick sauce clung to her like a second skin. But she wasn’t just lying there—oh no, this was indulgence at its deepest, this was pleasure so raw, it almost hurt. Her eyes, half-lidded in a daze, stared through the rising steam, her body sinking deeper into the mess, and she felt alive—more alive than any red carpet or camera flash could make her feel.

She reached out, fingers glistening with chili, for another dog. Veins popped beneath its greasy surface, and with slow, deliberate movements, she brought it to her lips. There was no rush. She savored it—oh, she relished it—biting down, the mustard and chili spilling out like secrets untold, sliding down her chin, her throat. Her eyes fluttered closed with a deep, guttural sigh. This was everything. The overwhelming pleasure hit her in waves with every chew, every swallow. Her breath quickened, shallow and erratic as she lost herself in the richness of it all, the dog filling her mouth, her senses.

The chili wrapped around her like some smothering, greasy blanket. It wasn’t just food. It was pure, unadulterated ecstasy, a pleasure so intense it was almost painful. Each bite, each drop of chili sliding down her neck, brought her closer to something primal, something real. Her stomach bulged, groaning under the weight of the dogs she’d already devoured, but she didn’t stop—couldn’t stop. The sensation of fullness, of excess, of giving in, consumed her.

Her body tensed with every bite, her toes curling under the weight of her own indulgence. Chili spilled over the tub, a greasy cascade pooling on the floor, but it didn’t matter. She was lost in it, gasping between bites, the pleasure thick and overwhelming, her senses so saturated she could hardly breathe. This was her truth, her joy—this chili-soaked, dog-filled bath was the deepest pleasure she knew, and she sank into it, every drop a testament to her surrender.

In the heart of that room, under the weight of the chili and the heat, Angelina chili dog Jolie was overcome, drowning in waves of her own overwhelming pleasure.

Trigger Warning: Rape and Sexual Assault

I am a corpse. Tonight is the worst night of my life. It is a night so bad I don’t know how I will wake up in the morning. Honestly, I don’t know if I want to wake up in the morning. I feel like my life has ended. I feel like it has been cut short. I have never felt this alone. This hospital doesn’t care about me. You nurses and doctors don’t care about me. I am a corpse meant to die in this hospital because you don’t care. I’m trying to piece together how I ended up here, but my memory is betraying me. I know I started the night at my best friend's apartment. There was a pre-game party for the bars because none of us wanted to pay eight dollars for beer we could drink for free at home. I met Jack at the party. Jack ruined my life. After the pregame, we went to the bars. My memory is starting to fail me. I don’t remember much from the bar. I know Jack bought me a drink or two, but I don't see how I could have been drunk enough to let this happen. I had a seltzer at the apartment and then a shot at the bar and the mixed drink that Jack got me. Something doesn’t make sense. I shouldn't have been that drunk. Was I that drunk? No. I wasn’t.
I wasn’t drunk! Jack had roofied me! That is the only explanation for this situation. My friends know I don’t run off with guys to their houses. It is against my sacred rules. How did they not know someone had drugged me? How was it not obvious to them? They had to have known. Right? I can’t think about that right now. I don’t remember leaving the bar or getting to Jack’s house. I do remember what happened right before I left. I wish my memory betrayed me for this part, but I can see every excruciating detail like it’s happening again right this very second. I remember the smell of his laundry detergent on his pillowcase as he forced my face into it against my will. I remember thinking it smelled like flowers. I remember thinking, why would a man so cruel use floral-scented laundry detergent? I remember the pain in my neck. It felt like Jack had broken it through his force. I remember how hot his breath was on the back of my neck. I remember trying as hard as I could to push him off of me. I remember smelling a mixture of beer and sweat on his skin. I remember how it felt as he pinned me under the weight of his body. I remember feeling hopeless as I realized he was at least 120 pounds heavier and 10 inches taller than me. I remember how it felt when I couldnt move. I remember feeling like he had paralyzed me. I remember wishing I had stayed home tonight. I remember wishing I hadn't taken the drink he offered me. I remember wishing I was nine and having Mom tuck me into bed instead of being there. I forget the memories just long enough to remember where I am. It smells like a hospital, but it feels like a morgue. I'm cold and alone. All I want is for someone to tell me I'm okay. I have no one. I feel like a corpse. I look at you, my nurse, begging you with my eyes to tell me I’m not a corpse, but you tell me the opposite. All you see is a stupid little girl who got herself into a situation that will ruin her life forever. You look at me like I’m a corpse. You look at me like you are trying to figure out how I got into this situation. Your eyes are filled with curiosity as they float between me and the evidence bags filled with my clothing. I see the thought running through your mind before you can register it. I'm not some dumb girl, is what it says. I am an attention-seeking whore who wore a miniskirt to the bar to tease the guys, and it bit me in the ass. The thought is written all over your face. I can see it lurking behind your deep blue eyes. I’m so angry I want to scream at you. I want to tell you it isn't true, but I can’t figure out how. I can’t move my lips. I can’t encourage the air to come out of my throat. I can’t yell. I can’t even whisper. I thought you were supposed to be helping me. Why does no one in this hospital care about helping me? Is it because I actually am a corpse? No. It can’t be. I can’t be a corpse. I have a family that cares about me. I can’t be dead. Why did I have to go so far for college? Why can’t my family be here for me? Why can’t someone be here for me? Why do you look at me like I'm already dead? You look at me like I'm a body you just performed an autopsy on. Your confused face has switched to a face of pure ice. You don’t care about me. This hospital doesn’t care about me. No one cares about me. But that can’t be true. Right? Someone tell me that isn’t true! I need to yell, but again, I can’t breathe a word. You people see me as nothing more than a paycheck. You see me as if I am $1,000 because Jack raped me, and that is the price of collecting evidence. You see me as if I am $500 because I needed a mild sedative to calm my panic attack when I arrived. You see me as if I am $200 because I thought Jack fractured my neck and I needed an X-ray. You see me as if I am $150 because I was in seething pain from my neck, and you insisted on feeding my IV fentanyl instead of the Advil I requested. You see me as if I am your next paycheck. I am not a paycheck. I am a person. Right? Maybe I am a paycheck. I can’t be a paycheck. I have dreams. I have a future. Right? I need someone to tell me this so I know it’s true. I can’t trust my own thoughts right now. They lie. It is finally hitting me just how cold it is in this room. It feels like I am lying on Ice. I look at you again, trying to explain to you that this hospital gown is too thin, trying to explain to you that I need a blanket. You ignored me. I try to yell at you. I can't find the strength. Why is there no one here for me? Why is there no one here to tell you that I am cold, or to tell you that I have dreams, or to tell you that I am NOT a corpse, or that I am not your next paycheck? Someone to tell you that I am not a body for you to autopsy. I am ALIVE! I am breathing. I know it's true because I can feel the air coming out my nose and spreading over my lips. I can hear the sound of my heartbeat on the monitor. I can feel the slightly uncomfortable pain of my IV. I am alive, so why is no one telling you that? Why does no one in this hospital realize that I am not a corpse? Why does no one in this hospital care that my heart is beating or that my lungs are taking in air? Why is no one telling me I am strong? Why is no one telling me this wasn’t my fault? Why is no one telling me I can still have a future? Why is no one telling me that this moment doesn't define me? All I want is someone in this demon-ridden hospital to care, but no one does, so this is how my story ends…

RELEASED AFTER 13 YEARS - THE HOROR FILM 🎥 ROR -EPISODES AVAILABLE ON SM

I attended a short story class this weekend, I'm a beginner. The instructor made a point of saying something like "don't give in to the impulse to rely on prose, stories need action dialogue". She has won awards and I bought her book, most of her stories seem to have no dialogue or very little...what gives?

Gerald smelled that ever lingering stench of ozone as he adjusted his respirator in the clean room. All eyes now on the quantum tunneling gateway.

A man of science, he once again went through the relevant equations and assured himself about their soundness. It just never happened, and he long ago lost believe it would ever.

Only this time it did. Both heavy steel doors slowly slid apart, and the gateway revealed a new space. Where for all 20 years of his involvement, this experiment setup would just show the back wall of the clean room, was now a doorway. 

It was then that Dr. Gerald Keterly ignored every voice on his intercom and all protocols as he crossed the threshold of the gateway like a pedestrian in Tokyo crosses an intersection with a green light.

He thought he could still feel some sort of tension as the tether connected to the belt of his lab-suite was pulling him back into the clean room. He motioned to unclip this lifeline.

There was no trace of ozone as Gerald took off his respirator. The clean room had become a tesseract with a closed quantum tunneling gateway pointing at a 5th dimension of space.
He went on.

The Never-Ending Debt. The windshield wipers were on the fastest setting and still could not keep up with the downpour of rain. The only thing keeping me straight was the faint shine of the reflective strips bouncing off the headlights. “Slow down Mikey, we can’t save lives if you flip this ambulance over into a ditch.” “I got it Phil just relax will ya!” “Find a place to pull over we will just wait for a call to come in.” Phil said finally pulling rank on me. “Ok, ok you spaz.” I found a pull off area a mile further down the road and parked. We were just outside of New Jersey in Warren County. Phil would always request to work all the rural areas, he did not like working the city much. “Let the junkies die in their natural habitat.” He would say, then followed by “Why waste ours and the hospitals time when they will just be back out there doing it again.” I was a new EMT and got assigned to Phil as my paramedic, I preferred the outskirts also, so I just nodded my head and did as I was told. I can’t afford another career change. The rain started to pelt the vehicle even harder drowning out the sound of the old ambulance engine. Phil had his cap down and was trying to sleep. I turned on the radio to the Mets game. “Tune that crap off.” Phil grumbled, “It’s the World Series you ass!” I shot back. “It’s the Mets no one cares about the Mets, this is a Yankees vehicle only.” “But they are playing the Sox.” I pleaded. Phil lifted his cap, looked at me stern and said, “Turn it off.” I rolled my eyes and switched the station. A muffled Walk this way by Aerosmith and Run D.M.C started to blare out of the blown ambulance speakers. Phil just shot me a dirty look, I switched to the next station. Papa Don’t Preach by Madonna, “What are you a 15-year-old girl?” he said while leaning in to change the station. Phil clicked it over to a news station talking about John Gotti and many of his associates that were on trial for racketeering and murder charges. The radio Jocky was spouting out names like he was reading from the Godfathers wedding invitation list. Gambino, Corle, Campione, Valentino and Maranzano. The list just went on. “Ha those Dago Wops finally got what was coming to them, feel like they could run my city.” Phil said smirking “Hey at least they dispose of the bodies, so we don’t have to deal with them right Phil.” Phil shot me another dirty look “Shut up Mikey!” Just then we got a call on the radio, a 4 car pile up about 15 minutes away. My eyes lit up. “Can we get this one Phil.” “We won’t make it kid. let someone else get it.” He said pulling his hat back over his eyes. “Its 4 cars we can at least head that way to help.” “Be my guest kid just get us there in one piece.” I hit the lights and sped off; I needed some excitement. Riding along with Phil all night tends to make for a dull shift. The rain seemed to match my excitement and started to come down even more fierce than before. I could feel the gust of wind challenging the speed of the ambulance swinging the back of the vehicle back and forth. “Slow down kid!” I looked over to tell Phil to relax when out of the corner of my eye a blue dress with white flowers in the middle of the road caught my eye. I slammed on the brakes and jolted the steering wheel left trying to evade the blue sun dress. The whole ambulance started to hydroplane followed by a loud thud sound on the side of the square ambulance’s shell. I started to feel some resistance of the vehicle sliding while at the same time the tires tap dancing from being slightly lifted off the ground. Finally, we came to a complete stop. I looked over and Phil was already out of the Rig. “Oh boy did you fuck up kid.” Phil belted out with amusement. I met him on the other side of the ambulance to see him staring at a mangled body twisted a contorted. The left arm was flush behind the upper body where the hand could be seen almost grasping the right shoulder. The left shoulder bone was caved in where you would see what they call the broad of the shoulder. Friction from the tire marks burned holes in to separate parts of the once sky-blue dress. The body was barely twitching. I was stunned, my brain was mush and my heart felt like it was in my stomach. “Grab the gurney and get me an extra sheet” Phil barked. I rushed to the back of the disheveled ambulance feeling relieved that Phil was taking the lead. I grabbed the gurney and sheets and headed over to see Phil administering something into the women’s vein in her arm then quickly putting the syringe back into a small black leather doctor's bag. “What is that, Phil?” I asked “come on let’s get her on the gurney” he snapped. Phil rolled her lifeless body in the sheet as if he was rolling her into an area rug like you see in the movies. I went to strap her in until Phil batted my hand away annoyingly. “Just get her in the back and start driving” once loaded up Phil told me to stop if I seen any cars on the side of the road. About a mile down the road was a Colbert blue Volkswagen bug leaning forward in a ditch with the front end wrapped around a tree. I pulled over, “Phil shouldn’t we be calling this in or getting her to the hospital?” “Won’t do any good, she has expired.” “But she was twitching when we got to her.” I said with fading hope in my voice. “Yeah, well I administered enough fentanyl to kill the most experienced junkie, let’s hope you hitting her did the trick, so she does not wake up overdosing.” My eyes got big, and I was immediately nauseous and confused at the same time. “You injected her with fentanyl?” “But……. Why?” …. “Do you want to explain what really happened here tonight? Phil said half smirking. “You will be back flipping burgers or pressing license plates in the penitentiary if anyone finds out what you did.” Phil looked up at me with a stern but also opportunist look in his face, “You owe me one after tonight kid.” Phil unveiled the lifeless body from the sheets and laid the shattered body into the front seat of the car. “How is this going to pass off when her body has all those injuries.” I said hoping Phil would change his mind. Phil looked at me and gave me another one of those smirks again, only this one was more sinister, before I knew it, he grabbed the poor girl by the back of her head and smashed her face through the already cracked now shattered windshield. The clear shattered glass started to bleed red before he pulled her back and slammed her face for a second time, this time her face sticking to the windshield. Her face was held on by every shard of glass penetrating her forehead and cheeks. As I watched the blood splatter all over the windshield, I could not help but to start vomiting. I could hear Phil laughing behind me. “You ok kid? You need me to drive?” I gathered myself and got back into the ambulance. “Lets go up

Hello everyone, I have posted a fictional short story a few days ago on Medium.

https://medium.com/@info_99097/you-stink-a-short-story-e1d2b3bc16e4

#Short Story #Fiction #To be continued #childhood memories

​

Day 5; The journey up till this point has been easy given what it is, those who braved the waters from the coasts of Oren to the olive trees of Greece often never finished their travels, most preferred to stop in the Gulf of Syrt to resupply their ships, replace lost deckhands or surrender their cargo entirely. That was not an option for us. Despite the long days of travel or stories of monsters amongst the rocking waters, our dear captain Calcarna, who has convinced himself he is some “lost son”, has set out on a journey for something on the way to Greece. Quite frankly I could care less, the food is decent as always with any longer travels we agree to and the drachmas he paid with were heavy and many. Nonetheless curiosity has always been my worst vice and I have begun to allow my mind to wander, however, each time I have tried to discuss with Calcarna just what it is he is looking for, he refuses me, saying I wouldn’t understand that I’d simply toss myself from the ship before continuing on. I think I just might go looking for something to sate my curiosity in the coming days.

Day 7; I was right, I was right to wonder and move through his cabin looking for answers. His writings made such little sense, he speaks so often of his sister Peisinoe, Aglaope, and Thelxiepeia. About how they never deserved that which has wronged them. He talks about saving his sisters from the wrongful punishments of gods. He practically writes in tongues about doing what his grandfathers before him should have done. The drachma isn’t worth this. From the rest of what I was able to decipher in his scrawling's he never intended for us to arrive in Greece, rather to bring the ship and crew down with him if he must for his sister's “redemption”. I know what the ravings of a mad man are, and I have no intention to be lost at sea or buried within my quarters over the machinations of a “god-touched” fool. I’ve shared this news with no one yet. I intend to confront Calcarna tomorrow before we reach his destination.

Day 8; Gods be damned, I should’ve jumped, fairing the seas alone would’ve been a better fate than this. Calcarna had bound himself to the ship's mast, said the old tales knew best. The singing has only been going for a day and half the crew has already thrown themselves to the mercy of whatever is in the water. I’ve barricaded myself in the captain quarters. Even now I have filled my ears with anything I can reach, trying to drown out the damn creatures' songs. Now all that's left is drown out his incessant screaming and laughter. He speaks as if he were the last man standing amidst some joyous victory. I don’t know what I will do, I fear my only hope will be to kill Calcarna while he is bound and steer the ship away with what remains of the crew. May the gods smile on whatever chances I have left to not make this cabin my coffin.

Day 11; The boat has run aground, most of the men I believe are dead, devoured by whatever awaited us at the end of Calcarna’s voyage. I do not believe I will live much longer, the scraps and remains of water are gone. I’ve tried to occupy my mind away from hunger by reading the captain's writings and entries. He knew the sirens were here, he had hoped to appeal to whatever humanity was left after centuries at sea with nothing but flesh to sate them. Even through the rags and wax I can still hear the whispers of their songs, even worse, I can hear him. The sirens yet take him and I’ve heard him each day and night as though he no longer sleeps. The clawing at the door and muffled laughter and pleading, begging me to see that which his sisters have overcome, he begs me to place my gaze upon them to see they are no longer monsters. I fear that I am starting to believe him, what if? What if the men are okay, what if the singing is a choir of the saved, what if he was right, what if they aren’t monsters?

Day 14; I think I’ll open the door tonight, surely Calcarna wouldn’t allow his sisters to remain monsters…would he?

It always seems like the rain is the worst on the days I visit, as though seeing you couldn’t be something pleasant and bright even if just for a moment. I think I almost miss the days of sunshine and passing white clouds we shared as much as our little talks. The sweet silences between awkward smiles, the way your eyes would light up whenever we talk about your niche hobby that week, even the sad attempts at comfort after each hospital visit. It was always so bittersweet your little lies, we both knew better but you always knew the truth would have hurt just enough more to have killed me. I miss you. I started missing you long before it happened, watching the light in your eyes fade with each little lie you told me, the smile being pulled from the depths of whatever you had left in your heart, the silences coming from a place where the words aren’t to awkward but too far out of reach to be attainable for either of us. And it wasn’t that we didn't know what was coming, we were never a lost ship, waiting for a light through the fog for a semblance of hope. We sat on the beach and watched the coming storm without anything to shield us from the rain. It seems silly but I wonder if that's why it rains whenever I visit, just the storm we watched and waited for reminding me that I never had a chance to get away from it. I loved you, well, I love you. You always talked about going on to something better and easier but I like to think that was another of your little lies you told me. This has always been where I’m happiest, it’s only here that I get to keep being so proud of you and our little girl. She looks so happy, and you look as though you're trying to be, at least for her if nothing more. You always seem to look through me when I come to visit, maybe it's the rain that reminds you of me, maybe something just catches your eye. I don’t really care to know, it just means a chance to look at you and her again. The light in your eyes is starting to come back again, whatever it is, little lies or the rain, I hope you never lose it again. Happy Birthday my love.

Hello reader! I'd like to thank you to read my work, if you like the work, please follow the author on Instagram @ tanishq_monga

Heavy rain blared outside at midnight. Hospital lobby deserted as the staff and attendees vacated the
open areas. Apart from the ponderous rain falling outside, another significant sound was constantly
blaring through the lobby. Jay ragwani, multi millionaire self-made entrepreneur and philanthropist, sat
on a hard steel bench just outside the only room which was lit. It was not an extensively rich hospital,
but a decent one. Jay, all drenched, constantly tapped his feet which echoed a sharp sound of his boots
through the lobby. His hands uncontrollably settled his hair falling on his forehead, even when it was not
needed. Deep sighs were taken time to time.
“Mr. ragwani?” a middle aged doctor said coming out of the room.
Jay jumped. “yes?”
“Congratulations, it’s a girl.”
Jay froze. “o-oh. Thank you doctor!” He said as a wave of elation was due to burst.
“you can meet her now.” Doctor said with a gentle smile and left.
Jay stood there. A beat. It erupted, Jay jumped around in sheer excitement and joy, throwing his body
here and there. Mouthing silently. The wave passed as jay felt him self thumped and trembling. He
exhaled sharply and stepped in the room.
Ragini, his wife was on the bed. He sensed a certain grace in her, which he never witnessed in the past
ten-years of dating and marriage. her soft skin bloomed in the hard light just above her head.
“Jay?” She said groaning.
Jay rushed beside her. “I’m here- I’m here.” he held her soft hands and wrapped his other arm around
her head, caressing her hair.
“It’s a girl!” His voice was evidently adrenalized.
“I know, doctor told me!” She said moving closer to him. Jay looked into her alluring grey eyes which
seemed like a pearl under the hard hospital light. Jay smiled and kissed her gently.
“I love you.” Ragini said in a hoarse voice.
“I love you too.” Said jay as his fingers rolled through her head.
Moments passed and a nurse came in the room.
“sir, here’s your baby.” She said passing a smile.
Jay rushed towards her and grabbed the child. His child. A tremor went down him, an experience of pure
bliss and joy for him. The world around him paused as he wrapped his child around his arms. Before he
could sense anything else, a tear rolled down his cheek.
The child was brighter than the light. Her small lips quivered and her closed eyes were like a flower yet
to bloom. She was wrapped in a white towel, hardly the size of her father’s hand.
Jay immediately took the child to her mother. As her arms were not fully functional yet, he rubbed the
child’s cheek against her mother’s. Ragini sighed. Her lips twitched as she felt her child for the very first
time. The nurse interrupted.
“Sir, please clear the bill down stairs and let ma’am rest for a while, I’ll call you in sometime.” She said
grabbing the child and putting them in a cradle next to ragini. It was certain foe the parents to be
overwhelmed and felt like an eternity, every moment the child was away from them.
“Jay, don’t leave me.” ragini said holding jay’s hands as the nurse left with the child.
Jay sighed and rested his head on her head. “I’ll be back in a while.” Jay looked back to get another
glance of her daughter.
"My child." He thought.

Ragini passed a smile as jay departed to the billing counter.
It was lonely in the hallway and the rain seemed to take a break. Jay walked with clear delight in his
heart. His hands were twitching throughout but it seemed to calm as the time passed. He started to
think rationally. Jay got reminded by his AI assistant on his phone for the flight tomorrow morning for
the meeting. It all happened in haste. Ragini’s due date was next week but fate had other plans. The
meeting the next day in Mumbai was a major breakthrough in Jay’s career, which could potentially make
him a billionaire. He has always dreamt of it but he was now in a dilemma. He switched his phone off to
think practically.
He handed his credit card for the payment but the thought in his head was still the same. As a child
when Jay’s drunkard father told him he couldn’t do anything in his life and he was a disgrace to him. He
abandoned him in a cemetery to get rid off the responsibility of a single dad. It was a blessing in
disguise. He found his purpose and as soon as he made his first million, He reconnected with his father
and sent him to rehab but money sort of became an addict of money.
Ragini and Jay were college love birds. They both were fairly attractive and nobody thought of them as a
legit couple. Jay absolutely loved his wife, more than anything but Jay arguably has started a new life,
with a child added to his soul.
It was utter silence through the hallway, jay could even hear his breath.
‘Thank you sir, Here’s your bill.” The receptionist handed him a bunch of papers and departed behind
the door.
Jay walked slowly through the lobby in utter silence on the outside but the dilemma inside him
continued to shout and scream.
He saw a vending machine just beside him which had a mixture of several funky and high end snacking
options. His eyes landed on one specific packet, it was a chocolate wafer-like-chips which hit him with
nostalgia.
‘Love bite’ was a famous snacking option amongst the youth and kids in the 90’s. jay loved them, for
their taste obviously and another major reason, Ragini. Ragini and Jay shared mutual immense love for
’love bite’ and it was the very first meal they ever shared.
Before giving another thought, jay typed 2-4-2 on the vending machine and the blue packet slowly
moved forward in the queue and dropped down in a dash. Jay picked it up and realized the packet which
he saw after ages, has gone significantly smaller than its original frame. He got another one.
He continued his march towards the room with the thought in his head. For once, he thought that he’ll
liquidize all his assets, invest and spend rest of the life with his family, for his family. It was certainly not
possible with his current lifestyle. He had a basic plan laid out to move back to his roots in the foothills
of himaliyas. But his rational side hit him again, making him aware of his struggles and his efforts to
reach here, very close to the billion mark. He has put all of his heart and soul in his company and in a
true sense, that business was his first child. Not only his, Ragini’s effort and sacrifices too.
He started crunching on the packet of ‘love bite’ as the thought prevailed. The thought of a calm and
peaceful life gave him immense pleasure but leaving his company and this flashy lifestyle offered a
crushing sense in his heart. With each step he took, the doubt increased, with each stair he climbed, he
fell deeper into the poll of dilemma.
“I am so close to what I lived for but I think I have a new reason to live, a new life perhaps.’ He said to
himself.
His emotional rollercoaster was continuously rolling here and there. in an instant h thought that he’ll
not flow in his emotions and continue to work. He seemed firm on it. He finally reached his destination
and sat outside the room, where he sat initially.
His heart maintained the harsh pounding. He sat outside with the unopened packet in his hand
desperately waiting to show it to Ragini. He anticipated the nurse or the doctor to come and check the
status, and let him in. He waited for several minutes with the same thought but calmed as compared to
the minutes passed.
He sighed and laid his head back against the wall. His drenched shirt was fully dried up but itchy. His
eyes were closed as the day was pextreamly tiring, and the coming day was too. he had various flashes
but got stuck on one, the last look of his daughter, it was stuck in his mind. He had nothing else going on
in his mind. It was like meditating. As if all of his worries, all of his stress dried up like his shirt and
vanished in the thin air. He flash opened his eyes and something really struck him. He, in an instant
made a decision.
“hey, please cancel tomorrow’s flight.” He said to his virtual assistant.
“Sure, let me know if you need anything else.” Said the assistant in a distinguishable artificial voice.
His heart started to beat faster. He consciously planned out his and his loved ones’ life. He heard
someone inside the room.
“oh, nurse is inside, I shall go in then.” He said to himself getting up of the bench.
He thought he’ll flush it all out on ragini right now. He stood on the door, took a deep breath to take
control on his excitement and opened the door.
“I’m s-sorry, Mr. Ragwani.” The doctor said, astounded. “Mrs. Ragwani and your child had subsequent
heart attacks.”

The Changed Face

This story is about a beauty standard we have today. It's kinda gory and it's my third short story so it may not be good, but I'd like constructive criticism. Sorry for any typos, English isn't my first language and I'm not good with the phone buttons.

THE CHANGED FACE

There once was a woman, beautiful like the morning sun. She was not a model, nor renowned for her beauty, She was a natural beauty, no need for cosmetics or surgeries, no need for dieting, for she was perfect. The woman loved a man, and the man loved her. Neither knew what feelings the other harboured, since both were meek and scared of heart.

They were very dear friends, close with eachother. Every meeting between the two both mended and tore eachothers heart. He had other close friends too. Men and women, but it was the women that made her jealous. She saw the way that they flirted with him, and she thought he was falling for it. In reality, he hated it. It made him very awkward. She didn't know that though. She thought he saw them more beautiful than her. This sho hated, very much Indeed.

And so it began simple. A change of wardrobe. Nothing harmful, out with the old, in with the new. She threw away her old clothes, too concealing, too much like a wrapper. Why not show light of the present underneath? And so began the debauchery-

The woman decided to...test how effective her revealing clothes were. 1 out of every 20 guys she met would buy her a drink, which ultimately led to a one night stand. This, in her eyes, was failure. She wasn't seducing enough guys. How could she get him when she could scarcely get a guy? Cute clothes weren't enough...what else could she do. I know! Plastic surgery. Only logical right?

This is after a fortnight, that she decides to undergo surgery. She started off simple. A little tweaking of the nose, slight thickening of the lips, and other implants. This helped until she saw the other pretty girls. The prettier ones. Once again, the envy boiled deep inside of her. She wasn't enough. She was an ugly old coon. She needed more, more surgery. But not facial, no. She needed bodily surgery. And so she got liposuction. Youshould have seen how the men climbed after her! Mauling one another! All of her! But he wasn't. That's when it hit her. She needed personality!

So began the next part of her Joumey. She began educating herself on various subjects. Not taking it to heart, mind you, but just remembering enough to set upl a facade. A lie. An illusion. She'd brag about all of the things she memorised, to her friends, colleagues, and strange men. The woman Impressed them, sure, but not him. In truth, he liked her the way she was before. While the surgeries and newly acquired taste for the arts plaesed him, It wasn't her. She was different.

Eventually, she started gaining weight once more. Dieting wasn't working fast enough, and she was to lazy to exercise. So, she turned to drugs. Specifically, heroin. She lost weight alright, for she was naught but skin and bones. Now only other druggies wanted her, the men at the bars and clubs had too much dignity to be seen with her. She startes hanging around the wrong crowd, unable to resist the alluring call of heroin. It's temptation too great to bear. She hung around drug dens where she had access to this drug...this filth.

The woman still went to work, but was soon fired. Needle scars are hard to hide. She had to say goodbye to him, and the look on his face... was utter disgust. He saw a crone. He was revolted by the mere presence member of her. This, to her, showed that love is only skin deep. She had an idea.

She couldn't afford surgery. Rehab was a no go. Afterall, there was nothing wrong

with her! It was them! She looked in the mirror...and couldn't stand it.

And so it began....

The woman grabbed a knife, a staple-gun, and a sewing kit. She began to work on her flaws. Her eyes, she felt, didn't show enough. So she grabbed her top eyelid, stretched it up, and stapled it to her brow. She stretched her lower eyelid to her cheekbones and stapled it. She did this with both eyes. He smile wasn't wide enough, so she sliced her cheeks into a wider smile with the knife. Her big monkey ears were hideous, so she sewed them back. She stretched her forehead skin taunt, brought the skin as close to the scalp as she could, then sewed and stapled it there.

Perfection! Utter beauty!

Would he be pleased..?

Would he like it?

Would he finally love her?

She knew where he slept! She could find out, she would find out.

The man was walking home from work, late at night. He was utterly exhausted from not only work work but watching his dearest of friends fall. As he was walking ro his house, he saw a figure on the sidewalk infront of the house. It was gaunt, only wearing a jacket that went to the knees, and long, stringy hair. As he got closer he could see its face. Eyes stapled open, mouth sliced wide, Incisions sealed shut with thread all over her face. It stared him down, as it couldn't blink, and simply smiled.

In a small, raspy voice, it said, "DO YOU THINK I'M PRETTY NOW? DO YOU LOVE ME?

Once, long ago, the first-born immortal was born into the world. At first, they reveled in their immortality, thrilled by the idea that they would live forever. But as the years passed, they began to realize that their endless life would not be the paradise they had imagined.

They watched as everyone they loved grew old and died, leaving them alone to mourn. They saw entire civilizations rise and fall, their great works of art and literature lost to time. They lived through wars and famine, pestilence and disaster, watching as humanity struggled and suffered and died.

The first-born immortal tried to help where they could, using their immense knowledge and experience to bring hope and healing to those around them. But they soon discovered that their very existence was a curse. For every person they saved, a dozen more were lost. For every good they did, there was always more evil waiting to take its place.

They watched as the world grew darker and more twisted with each passing year, their own heart growing heavy with sorrow and despair. They longed for the sweet release of death, but it would not come. They were trapped, cursed to live forever in a world that seemed to be spiraling out of control.

As the centuries passed, the first-born immortal grew weary and jaded. They saw the worst in people, the cruelty and greed that lay at the heart of so much human endeavor. They lost faith in the world, in themselves, in the very concept of hope.

And yet, they continued to live. They continued to move through the world, watching and waiting, their heart heavy with the weight of endless sorrow. They knew that they could not die, that they would never find the release they so desperately craved.

The first-born immortal was a walking monument to loss, a living reminder of all that humanity had lost and all that it would continue to lose. They were the first, the oldest, the wisest, and yet, in many ways, they were also the most tragic. Forever condemned to live, forever condemned to suffer, forever condemned to remember all that they had lost.

As the millennia passed, the first-born immortal watched as the world changed around them. They saw mountains rise and fall, continents shift and drift apart. They watched as new species emerged, and others went extinct. They saw the rise and fall of civilizations, the ebb and flow of human history.

But even as the world changed, the first-born immortal remained the same. They were still the same person they had always been, trapped in a body that would never age or die. They watched as the sun grew older and brighter, its heat slowly scorching the planet.

For a time, the first-born immortal tried to hold onto hope. They searched for ways to save the world, to prevent the inevitable destruction that was coming. But as the centuries passed, they came to accept the truth: the world was dying, and there was nothing they could do to stop it.

And so, as the sun grew hotter and brighter, the first-born immortal began to prepare for the end. They watched as the oceans boiled away, the sky turned red with heat, and the planet grew barren and lifeless. They knew that they too would soon die, but they were no longer afraid.

As the last vestiges of life on Earth faded away, the first-born immortal closed their eyes and welcomed the darkness. They had lived an endless life, full of joy and sorrow, hope and despair. They had seen the rise and fall of countless civilizations, the birth and death of countless species.

And now, as the world came to an end, they finally found peace. They knew that they had lived a life that no one else could ever understand, that they had borne witness to the entire history of the world.

As the sun finally died and the universe grew cold and empty, the first-born immortal took their final breath and slipped into the void. They were gone, but their memory would live on forever, a testament to the enduring power of the human spirit.

Hi everyone i have just finished writing a story and i just to here some responses.

https://simily.co/all-stories/justnobody/maya-and-the-guardian-of-the-crystal-chamber/

The following short story, which was nearl 10,000 words was recently edited down to 1498 words. And I believe it's an improvement. Enjoy! https://carpevelo.blogspot.com/2020/07/3-short-story-part-1-of-3.html?m=1

The era of very distant future, 10,000 years from now, there’s a family from another planet visits Space on their vacation. During sightseeing, they see other planets like Mars, Pluto, etc that’s when the small girl spots the thing like black hole and out of curiosity asks the tour guide. It’s Planet Earth says the Guide then the family shows interest to know more about it. As the story goes ahead, we go into the flashback, presenting the situations that led Earth to what it is today. In the year 2022, a family selling off their dining table as there’s no time for humans to sit and eat together. This led to self-destruction. In the year 2164, where technology had swept everything in the world. The poor Farmers are not able to pay their debts and for the clearance of their debts, they are given option, which is to commit suicide. This was the massive destruction of Mother Nature and Humanity. In 27th Century, a Girl and her Grandfather goes to Museum, which has n number of statues. The Girl asks that why it has so many statues. Grandfather replies that there used to be a sea at that place, due to Global Warming the water got evaporated. Hence, the Museum was built. In the year 9431, there’s a war happening. The Unemployment Missiles, Corruption Bombs, etc are getting fired. The soldiers are fighting. During the fight, there are 2 soldiers, One Muslim and One Hindu from different parties, who knew each other since years and played together in their childhood kills each other. The flashback ends, the Guide tells the story and how Earth was taken for granted, how Humanity was taken for granted. If Earth was taken care back then, then we didn’t had to feel nostalgic.

• P. Tambe

Looshie Land is a short story set in a surreal theme park. With a sprinkle of magic realism & psychological horror, this short fiction will have you both unsettled and guessing until the end.

Revolving metal barricades spin as hundreds of staff shuffle into the theme park.

Furry caricatures of porcupines, beavers and voles mill about, clutching their grinning demented heads against their waists.

Beyond the turnstiles, industrial cleaning machines meander through the streets of Looshie land. A stain of dust trails across the sunrise.

A suited man stands in the forecourt, ticking off a list as the barriers swallow employees...

Visit my webpage to read the rest of the story: https://peakd.com/hive-170798/@raj808/looshie-land-magic-realism-short

Thanks for reading.