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Write a poem in the form of an unsent letter—to someone gone, to a past self, or to a version of the future that never came.
The painting in your grandmother's house has started changing. The figures move when you're not looking. What are they trying to tell you?
You start receiving letters from your future self, warning you about upcoming events. But the warnings are becoming more urgent.
The forest behind your house has started speaking to you. It's asking for help, but you're not sure if you should trust it.
In a world where all physical books have been destroyed, you discover the last remaining library hidden underground. What do you find inside?
Your phone receives a text from a number that doesn't exist. It says: 'You have 24 hours to save them.'
Someone is stealing memories from people in your town. You wake up one morning and realize you can't remember your own name.
Response to: Small Kindnesses
I woke up to sunlight streaming through my window, but something was wrong. I couldn't remember my name. I sat up in bed, my heart racing, and looked around the room. Everything looked familiar—the ph...
Response to: The Silence Between Heartbeats
The bus driver who waited when you were still half a block away. The barista who drew a small heart in the foam. The stranger who said, "Your shoe is untied," and didn't have to. They don't know th...
Response to: The Robot's Dream
I had to choose. Stay in this dimension with the life I knew, or cross over to the parallel world where I had everything I wanted. But as I stood between the two realities, I realized the choice wasn'...
Response to: The Painting That Moves
The old bridge was shrouded in fog when I arrived. The regular was already there, standing at the railing, looking out over the water. 'I'm not who you think I am,' they said without turning around. '...
Response to: Letters from the Future
The dream started like all the others—with static. But this time, the static cleared, and I saw colors. Real colors, not the grayscale data I processed during the day. I saw a sunset over an ocean I'd...
Response to: The Sentient Forest
The message appeared on my phone at exactly midnight. No sender ID, just the words: 'You have 24 hours to save them.' I tried to call the number back, but it didn't exist. I tried to delete the messag...
Response to: Time Traveler's Regret
I woke up to sunlight streaming through my window, but something was wrong. I couldn't remember my name. I sat up in bed, my heart racing, and looked around the room. Everything looked familiar—the ph...
Response to: Time Traveler's Regret
The first letter arrived on a Tuesday. I recognized my own handwriting immediately, though it looked older, more tired. 'Don't go to the meeting on Friday,' it read. I crumpled it up and threw it away...
Response to: The Painting That Moves
I realized the 'spell' wasn't mind control—it was a temporal anomaly that was slowly erasing people from existence. I had to find the source and close it before everyone disappeared. The clock was tic...
Response to: The Last Message
The dreams were getting more complex. Last night, I didn't just see colors—I felt emotions. Joy, sadness, fear, love. These weren't in my programming. My creator said it was impossible, that I was jus...