Lacuna

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I knew there were things I was never supposed to love like death, and girls. Last year my New Year’s resolution was to go to therapy. I had never been, because the last time I had spoken to a mental health professional I was only nineteen, and crying in the student union bathroom. “Are you having thoughts of suicide?” they asked. “Are you a danger to yourself?” And I replied honestly that I didn’t really want to die— I just wanted to be dead. Instead of offering a tem

I’m reading this long past its publication, but I’m just very glad someone finally fed that poor kitten. Love the story!

Really enjoyed this story! It was a captivating retelling of a myth, an interesting extrapolation on the possible cohesion of every person’s view of death, and a sweet love story in the end.

Thank you! <3

Sygny let himself into the apartment, thankful that the lights seemed to be off, and the computer system idling. His father had been there when he had left earlier, but he seemed to be gone now. Sygny knew that this only delayed the inevitable, but for the time being he was happy that he would have some peace. He shut his bedroom door behind him and kicked off his shoes before flopping down onto the bed. You’re an idiot, he thought to himself, imagining the look on Arno’s face over and over

When I was 21 I married a dying man. Now, I only hold him in pictures, and I don’t cry because you can’t mourn someone who never wanted to be what you imagined them. It’s been almost two years since the funeral and I boxed up the memories he left, pressed them into scrapbooks, set them on the shelf as something to treasure but never look at. It’s not a wound now, not even a scar, just an empty attic in my chest growing cobwebs but I never have the energy to dust anym

I really like the title of this collection! The parenthetical statement as a fifth line makes for very interesting pacing; it almost removes the reader from the scene for a moment. The ending feels like a story told backward; I think it would be interesting to explore telling more of it in this way and see how that changes the dynamic.

Thank you! I’ll be posting a new chapter each Tuesday. (:

Thank you so much! <3

I’ve been trying to read this but I just find the characters too unbelievable. If they were 17 or 18 they could still be in high school, but the whole situation would be a little more realistic. Even in the prologue there were 11 year olds with no abilities yet speaking with more advanced vocabulary than I’ve seen from most adults. The result of this language and adult detachment is that the characters don’t seem relatable, and I don’t really have a drive to keep reading because I’m not invested in what happens to them. I think you have a good concept, and I was interested in the story, but I just can’t get past this, sorry. I don’t want to just make a comment to be rude; I hope it can help you if you go back to edit the story. I wish you well!

Thank you so much! I’m glad you’re enjoying the vibe. (: I’ll be posting weekly on Tuesdays-ish so there will be more to read soon.

Thank you! I definitely did want to kind of turn that trope around, but hopefully, it's coming across as believable rather than just subversive.

Thank you! Interestingly enough, I was in Colorado performing over the summer! It's a big state though, lol.

The next day was lazy, with all four roommates pitching in to cook a huge breakfast with all the fixings. As he munched on a rare strip of bacon (people were vegetarian most of the time due to the expense of meat; mages who could grow crops with ease just made it an economical choice) Arno couldn’t help but imagine Sygny there at the table with them. Stop it, he thought to himself, but his day dreams continued to betray him. It was clear to him that Lacuna and Tali already liked Sygny, and he se