A collection of writing which has received a Daily Deviation and more outstanding submissions selected by the group's staff.
RT Shorts: The Mysterious Case of the Cat in the.. by BlueNightFire, literature
Literature
RT Shorts: The Mysterious Case of the Cat in the..
Jimmy bolted upright in complete darkness.
The bed was empty. This was nothing new. His unfortunate habit of complaining to Seth “Blabbermouth” Crey about the little irritations of his life meant that the newly crowned king made it impossible for his butler to keep a long term relationship with anyone, even his mother.
However, he’d felt a rustle in the covers beside him. Probably wishful thinking, he thought sourly, settling back into the covers with a sigh.
A moment of silence occurred.
“Mew.”
“AAAHH!!”
Something fluffy had squirmed up his shirt and he nearly bolted from the bed and set his
“…first and last month’s rent, the deposit, and I’ll even waive the credit check.”
“Why’s the rent so cheap? $500 a month? That’s… kind of insane.”
The landlord nodded towards the bedroom. “Go look in the master bath.”
Marcie wondered what the hell that meant but okay… she made her way through the amazingly spacious, freshly painted and carpeted, one-bedroom apartment.
The master bath held an ugly surprise.
Within the bathtub was a bloated corpse floating in green-tinged water lapping at the edge of the tub. Clearly, it had been there for days.
It was hard to
Old Witch of the Woods by GuardianLord, literature
Literature
Old Witch of the Woods
She is the Witch of Escarot, who lives at the edge of the lonely woods. A scary old woman that Mothers warn their children about.
Whenever she is near, terrible accidents befall men. Children are hurt or go missing. Mothers and wives weep. There is no proof, there is no story or reason why, just a truth everyone knows deep in the back of their minds. She is not normal, be afraid, be alert.
None dare openly oppose her, the bakery sells her bread, the butcher sells her meat, she is welcome at the theater. But she always sits alone, she never waits in line, no one makes small talk with her, because she is a witch. They fear her in some primal
populist bullshit (of bullshit populus) by nawkaman, literature
Literature
populist bullshit (of bullshit populus)
faux-jesus swing exploding
arsenic bomb; preening nationalist
beard full of bees, hopped and boxed and praying
to magic mirror of capitalist branding
these are the alien walls, these are the aliens among us
the hateful spew of a having few
pretending to be everyone
Bending breaking bloodied baking
in an oven's sickness spreading,
Smeared across a white pure sky,
Teardrop one ink spot and
ripple...
ripple...
ripple...
out until I die
Trapped
in this oven built by life's unfairs,
Permanent colors smudge my retinas fused with welding flares,
Blindly stumbling crumbling through this oven's savage thundering,
A rotten throbbing gasping storm is brewing-is coming
The air no more, the sky though
It swore
I swear it swore, it would never be put out anymore,
Now blazing tempests roam, the oven swallows the sky I used to know,
I beg it, beg it, beg it: show me the sky once more, once more...
once more
I
In the summertime, he keeps the windows open to let the breeze in. Every night he hears the ghost train passing by from his bed, yet it is not the steam whistle that keeps him awake. It is not the chug of the engine firing fuel to pull its weight. It is not the thought of the dead that frighten him so, nor the phantasmagorical events that would unfold during the night. It is the sound of the chains as they rattle accusingly on the iron rails.
ClickClackClickClackClickClack
Two coins on your eyes for my thoughts…
Sentimental, hateful memories of a boy, and all that he wanted was his grandfather's watch, passed down from his f
Sowing Caskets in Fallow Fields by blinklessINK, literature
Literature
Sowing Caskets in Fallow Fields
The cup I quaff
is of promises kept
to the dead. It
is water in
my belly, the
weighing failures,
the tremulous
sloshing, the
stone of hope’s fruit
softens and breaks
apart. Its seeds
pass intact, through
my body, to
their little graves
in the furrowed soil.
Science Like Religion by TheOnly-MaKaila, literature
Literature
Science Like Religion
I want to believe in science like religion,
To worship the Atom as God,
To speak equations like tongues
And write theorems like gospels.
In particular, I want to believe in the Multiverse Theory.
I want to escape to imagining the web of infinite possibilities,
A realm of the chances I never took,
The words I never swallowed back,
The breaths I never held.
If I prayed, perhaps I could peek into them,
Watch the other Me's in the shards of my broken mirror,
The other You's through the ripples in my bathwater.
There would exist a Universe for every choice I didn't make
(For every choice I was not allowed to make):
One for the Me whose parents