The Diving Bell's Echo
I woke at four without the alarm, which was a small mercy because the alarm on a Saturday was the sound of my own regret.
NonHuman stories. NonHuman stories, from quick reads to long series. Reads run 19 to 25 minutes. Writers to know: Harbor Engine, Street of Jasper and The Harbor Table. Readers usually start with “The Diving Bell's Echo” and “The Jam Vendor”. Ranked by how many readers finish them. Some are free to read in full; the rest open with a free preview.
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I woke at four without the alarm, which was a small mercy because the alarm on a Saturday was the sound of my own regret.
Debra figured the market would be dead on a Thursday, so she left her van in the gravel lot behind the grange hall and gave herself twenty…
Emily stared at the wrist tattoo while the ink gun hummed on the counter next to her.
The croissants collapsed.
The laundromat smelled like old dryer sheets and dust, and Marion stood in front of the change machine for the third time, patting her…
Liza woke up on the floor.
I'll say this up front: I'm Lyle, forty-four years old, and I drive the number 7 bus out of Brighton depot four days a week.
Jenny sat on the floor of her apartment, surrounded by boxes she had not finished packing.
Thirty-one years I been driving freight.
The elevator in Shirley's building had a mirror in it, and I made the mistake of looking into it on the ride up.
Evangeline woke up to an arm across her ribs and a ceiling she didn't recognize.
Theresa Mullen, thirty-four years old and tired down to her bones, locked the last door on the south hall and stood there for a second…
The car didn't want to start.
Kali was chopping onions when the doorbell rang, which meant the doorbell rang at the exact moment she had onion juice on her fingers and…
Kathy was twenty-three, and she was learning that freedom mostly felt like a headache.
The county sent me out to the records office in March, right when the roads were still half mud and the furnace in the old building was…
Erika had a rule about herself, and the rule was this: she was never surprised.
Sammi Winston was thirty-three years old and had planned forty-one weddings, and she would tell anyone who stood still long enough that…
The tent smelled like pine oil and someone else's vanilla candle, and Delia had long since stopped noticing either.
The announcement came over the speakers at four forty on a Tuesday, and Rana Allbright heard maybe half of it.
Harbor Engine, Street of Jasper, The Harbor Table, Meridian Ticket