Write a story about someone losing faith in an institution.
Posted in Angst on Oct 26, 2022
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✍️ 123 stories
“One Afternoon Calm in 2067” by Crimson Miles
“No. I can’t talk about it.”“Sure, you don’t have to… but seeing that you’re the only one, out of a few lucky survivors in your country, able to speak in English, we simply cannot waste time any longer. I know how time has suddenly become precious to everyone.”Indeed, there is no point for Willy Eugenio to even think about what had happened during the past seventy years. He does not even know when he is turning 98, for it has been a while since calend...
“STRANGERS ON RUBI ISLE” by Sivaram Govindaraj
(This story is set on planet earth’s twin GAIA2 which is 800 years younger and is evolving.)Whizma – the wizard and witch of Rubi Isle said to her client “What you said is true. I didn’t see it but it seems recently one night a star descended on our land and 3 strangers alighted. The star then disappeared. The 3 who landed have peculiar names. The tall man is Fred, the woman who is his wife is named Wilma. The third person is a male named Barney.”In the privacy of their home Fred said “Wilma, the queen appears a nice lady an...
“Loosing Faith” by Sue Marsh
Losing Faith Suzanne Marsh The five man recon team, their tents billowing in the wind and snow, atop Mount Delani watched in silence and fear. Fear had now become their constant companion. Their assignment was to keep an eye on the Russians; rumors were flying out of the Kremlin, quickly, that there was going to be an imminent invasion of the United States. For days they had been wat...
“I Just Can't Deal” by Mira Echenim
I don't know if I'm the only one facing this torture; where your mama doesn't let a week go by without bringing up the marriage talk. She feels I'm of age to be married, so she isn't giving me breathing space, and truth be told, she's so good at it. Sometimes I want to dance and rejoice because it's Saturday night and it seems like she has forgotten about pestering me with the topic, then my dad goes o...
“That Is The Way It Is ” by Philip Ebuluofor
Yesterday evening, I got an email from the FDDC the body responsible for economic and financial crime in the country. I have been contacting them since one year now, asking me to reapply for the recovery of the tuition fee I paid to a school in London. In the mail, I was asked to follow application format as if I am in the exam hall taking examination. I just knew what that nonsense instruction means, t...
“Honor Court ” by Meta M Griffin
Honor Court Summer tried to think of the author who wrote a half truth was the worse kind of deception. She re read the quote someone had scribbled in her note book. “Falsehood flies, and truth comes limping after it, so that when men come to be undeceived, it is too late; the jest is over, and the tale hath had its effect: like a man, who hath thought of a good repartee when the discourse is changed, or the comp...
“Ex Servitio” by Sjan Evardsson
Lil let out the smoke she’d been holding in, the buzz warming her brain. “I’ve always tried to do the right thing,” she said. “I know, I know,” Viv answered before taking a deep drag from the pipe. She continued, her words muffled by the clouds of smoke that carried them, “That’s why I know you’ll do the right thing now.” Lil ran her fingers over the patch on her sleeve; a seven-pointed star inside a cir...
“Finding Yourself” by Virginia Parker
Outside snow comes down heavily through the dark. Falling gracefully down, its slow dance-like descent only made visible by the orange light of the streetlamps that permeated the night. Inside an office building a man is finishing up his work. He glances at the clock to see that both the needles are facing the ceiling; midnight 12:00 “Guess it's Sunday now.” He says out loud to himself. He’s the last one there. He turns ...
“Oh Marriage ! I don’t believe you ” by Alkaa Sharma
Oh Marriage ! I don’t believe you Part 1 – Surekha’s parents Surekha was a child brought up in a disturbed family. Since childhood she had witnessed her parents fighting like cats and dogs. “Get out of my house you woman!” , I don’t need you. Shouted her father on her mother. “This is my house too and I wont leave” cried her mother sobbing ou...
“Full-Service Saviour” by Jamie Smith
John Ryan wasn't a religious man. That's not to say he didn't believe; he just hadn't had any favors in that area that would make him be an active practitioner. No, he believed in God; his dear momma had been faithful to the Lord, going to church every day that service was held, and she instilled that belief in his soul. He knew the Lord was there. He just didn't acknowledge it.
“Supernova Dream” by Juan Diego Gallego
A powerful rain of crystals continued to fall furiously all over the protective dome. Inside the dome, a human slept soundly. His only company was an arachnid-like robot with small robotic legs, and a spherical head that emitted a scarlet red light. The robot was named Rogerick and it was a technological marvel. He had convenient skills such as temperature sensors, location radars, and the auton...
“Lobby” by Manan Suraiya
“Bollocks,” exclaimed Beldo, brushing his hand aside. Everyone in the Grand Hall stared daggers at him. The spectacled officer sitting opposite the glass desk frowned.“Mr. Beldo, you are advised to keep your volume down.”White light bathed the marble walls and floor of the room. The soft wisps of mist floating in the room appeared like halos in the glow. Though the room was bright, there was a notable lack of wind. Beldo pulled his tie loose and sighe...
“A Nice Man” by Joe Swanson
“Have you noticed how the mail delivery just isn’t what it was. That guy who wanted to ruin it so we couldn’t vote; I hear is still there. I’ve noticed the same thing is happening to the paper delivery business too. Our paperboy, or girl, can’t say I ever met which ever one it is, but which ever one it is, is a terrible shot, and is always late. I find the paper most days not on the porch like when old ...
“Three Ceramic Plates” by Amanda Gocel
Content warning: abuse***Four ceramic plates, four tall glasses, eight pieces of silverware and a basket of bread in the middle. The family sitting around the table with a painted poise on each of our black canvas faces. My father will come home to this each day, cascading his fork into the pile of food without a second glance at the human chickens before him. But, without fail, my mom and I’s hands will always take us back to the dishes each night, despite our reluctance and depressive state. Our life depends on it, my moth...
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