Psychological
For Real--The Interview
Resume’ in hand, I walked into the building fifteen minutes ahead of my interview time. I noticed the foyer is empty. It is a grand space with a coffee stand located on the left and a reception counter on the right. An enormous fireplace from the ground floor to the top of the second floor towered over me. A railing above revealed a lounge on the second floor. No one is around. No one is behind the counter either. I see a sign in book. It has large shaky signatures. I look to the top to see this is for “The Residents”. To think, I had almost signed in the wrong book. Glad no one was looking. I gazed around and found a closed book to the far right lying flat on top of the gleaming black marble. I almost missed it because the book was also black. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw it was labeled “Visitors”. I opened the book, and with pen in hand, found the last page so that I could sign in. There were no available slots left to sign in. I felt the odd presence of eyes. I felt as though someone was watching me. I looked around, still no sign of a human in sight. I couldn’t shake that feeling. Perplexed, I decided to add a line to the bottom of the page and neatly followed the pattern of the line above to sign in. I closed the book and placed the pen down. I saw a chair by a fireplace in the center of the grand foyer. That seemed like a good place to sit while I waited the next 12 minutes. It would certainly be within earshot. So, I sat down. I placed the resume’ in my lap and neatly folded my hands together. I felt a little conspicuous. I shifted in my seat to make sure I had good posture and crossed my ankles, slightly adjusting both knees to the left and ankles to the right. I could hear and see no one. Yet, I had the unmistakable sense of someone nearby. I looked around. I sniffed the air. I listened so that I could hear a pin drop. Nothing. I gazed at my arms extending beyond the suit sleeves. The hairs stood up. It wasn’t particularly cold in the room, but it was clear that my senses were on overdrive. Time ticked on, slowly, ever so slowly. Agonizing—time ticked on.
By Mary Catherine Watsonabout a month ago in Fiction
Silken Chains. Top Story - March 2026.
Silhouettes of the female form were given flesh and bone. Silken skin glistened under the spotlight. Dry ice rose around our Icons as they danced atop their podiums in the Square. Heralded for their beauty, their movements were slight, powerful, and sensual.
By Paul Stewartabout a month ago in Fiction
What Now?. Content Warning.
I wasn't what you'd call a golden child. Let's just say that my single mom had her hands full. One of my earliest memories happened the summer before I turned five. My mom took me to the park. I was curious how far I could fly if I jumped out of the swing. When I landed, my squall may have awakened the dead. My mom came running and yelled, "What now, Lucy?"
By Julie Lacksonenabout a month ago in Fiction
Becca. Runner-Up in The Rule Everyone Knows Challenge. Top Story - March 2026.
"Everything is so... flat." Denille said stupidly as she looked around her new neighborhood. She looked around at the muted desert where even the smallest sign of life seemed to have given up. The plant life was shrubs that were half cooked by the heat and where there should have been a lawn, a mess of white rocks laid glistening in the sun. Even the sky looked stretched thin, like the sun had ironed it smooth. She’d moved from Riverside, where at least there were hills, but here in Barstow, everything felt baked and brittle.
By Sara Wilsonabout a month ago in Fiction
The Etiquette of Endless Light
The Usual Weather No one in the city remembers the exact day the sun stopped moving. People generally agree that it happened sometime after the grocery store began stocking strawberries again, but well before the mayor announced the new festival to celebrate “a remarkably stable season.” Most residents place it somewhere around there, in the fuzzy calendar purgatory where ordinary life continues.
By Shannon Hilsonabout a month ago in Fiction
Shadows of Greed
The city never truly slept. Even late at night, faint lights glowed in office towers, and the distant hum of traffic echoed through empty streets. Inside one of those glass buildings, Adrian Keller sat alone at his desk. The rest of the finance department had gone home hours ago. Their computers were dark, chairs pushed neatly under desks. Only Adrian’s monitor still glowed in the quiet office. Numbers filled the screen. Rows. Columns. Transactions. At first glance, everything looked normal. Just another routine financial report. Adrian had reviewed hundreds like it before. But tonight something felt wrong. A small discrepancy had caught his attention earlier in the evening. It was nothing dramatic—just a tiny mismatch between two transactions. The kind of mistake that usually meant someone typed the wrong number. Yet the longer Adrian stared at the screen, the stranger the numbers became. One transaction led to another. Then another. Soon Adrian realized the error wasn’t a mistake at all. Money was moving through the company’s accounts in strange, hidden paths. Large amounts were being transferred through multiple shell companies before quietly returning to accounts that looked perfectly legitimate. Millions of dollars were circulating through the system like water moving through underground tunnels. Carefully hidden. Carefully designed. Someone had built this structure deliberately. Adrian leaned back in his chair, his heartbeat slowly rising. This wasn’t sloppy accounting. It was a financial maze. And someone inside the company had created it. A Name That Shouldn’t Be There Curiosity can be dangerous. Most people would have closed the file and walked away. Adrian couldn’t. The deeper he searched through the financial records, the more complicated the pattern became. Fake consulting payments. Temporary companies that existed for only a few weeks. Accounts that opened and disappeared without explanation. Whoever designed the system was intelligent. Patient. Careful. Then Adrian saw something that made his stomach tighten. A name appeared beside one of the transactions. He froze. Because it wasn’t the name of a stranger. It was someone he worked with every day. Marcus Hall. Adrian whispered the name quietly to himself. Marcus was his closest colleague in the department. They had worked side by side for years, sharing deadlines, coffee breaks, and long discussions about promotions and future plans. Marcus was friendly. Relaxed. The kind of person everyone trusted. Yet the financial trail pointed directly toward him. Adrian stared at the screen, unsure what to believe. Was Marcus involved in something illegal? Or was someone using his identity to hide their tracks? The question hung in the room like a dark shadow. The Message Just as Adrian considered leaving the office for the night, his phone buzzed. A message appeared on the screen. It was from Marcus. The text was short. “We need to talk. Not here.” Adrian frowned. Marcus rarely sent messages like this. He typed a reply. “What’s going on?” The message failed to deliver. Marcus’s phone was already switched off. A few seconds later, another notification appeared. This time it wasn’t a message. It was a location pin. Adrian opened the map. The location was far from the city center, near the old harbor docks where abandoned warehouses stood along the water. A strange place for a meeting. Adrian hesitated. Something about the situation felt wrong. But curiosity has a powerful pull. And some questions refuse to remain unanswered. The Harbor The docks were almost silent when Adrian arrived. Fog drifted slowly over the dark water. Rusted shipping containers stood stacked beside empty warehouses. A single streetlight flickered near the edge of the pier. Under that light, Adrian saw a car. Its engine was running. The headlights cut through the fog like glowing eyes. Adrian approached slowly. The driver’s door creaked open. For a moment, no one stepped out. Then a man emerged from the shadows. Adrian stopped walking. The man standing beside the car was not Marcus. He was a stranger. Tall. Calm. Watching Adrian carefully. In his hand was a small recording device. A red light blinked softly. Recording. Adrian’s voice came out lower than he expected. “Where’s Marcus?” The stranger glanced toward the dark water of the harbor. “Marcus made a mistake,” he said quietly. “A very expensive mistake.” A chill ran through Adrian’s body. The hidden accounts. The missing money. The secret transfers. This situation was much larger than he had imagined. A Dangerous Truth The stranger took a slow step closer. “Marcus tried to expose us,” he continued. Adrian’s heart pounded harder. “Expose who?” The man didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he held up the recorder. The red light continued blinking. “Let’s find out something first,” the stranger said calmly. “Are you planning to do the same thing Marcus did?” Adrian looked toward the dark harbor water. Suddenly the entire situation made sense. Marcus hadn’t been the mastermind behind the hidden money. He had discovered it. Just like Adrian had. And now Marcus was gone. Which meant Adrian had stepped directly into the same danger. The stranger smiled faintly. Wind swept across the docks, carrying the distant sound of sirens somewhere in the city. “Greed is a powerful force,” the stranger said. “People will do anything to protect it.” Adrian stood frozen, realizing the truth too late. Marcus hadn’t invited him here. Someone else had. And now Adrian was standing in the middle of a secret far darker than simple corruption. The recorder’s red light kept blinking. The fog grew thicker around the harbor. And Adrian Keller understood one terrifying fact. The shadows of greed were far deeper than he had ever imagined. And he had just become part of them.
By The Insight Ledger about a month ago in Fiction
