The smell of sugar immediately swirled up my nose and circled my head, stimulating every single neuron whose job it was to bathe my tongue in saliva.

All Chris wanted to do was leave his work outing and go out with his new lady friend

I sit down at the kitchen table sipping my coffee, lost in the morning fog, and waiting for the caffeine to smoke out my sense of self, who I’ve been told is the one to help me get through the day.

I am beginning to suspect that the crutch of the mentally disordered being prone to an artistic bent is due to the over-reliance on metaphor to describe internal states.

Every day is an adventure when you’re neurodivergent in the office.

Light radiated into Rose’s dark room and a man with spiky brown hair sat wearing a white lab coat with emerald embroidered lettering too small to make out across the lip of his chest pocket. He had on thick black rimmed glasses and neat stubble naturally adorned the sides of his angular jawbone and diverted around his thin lips.

Warning: Serial killer story.

Hope picked up the bags and was immediately shocked at how heavy they both were. She followed the old man down the hallway, wondering what could be so heavy.
The man stopped outside his apartment, fumbled in his pocket for the key and opened the door, pushing it open.

Warning: Serial killer story.

Tamika didn’t hate her mother, but she hadn’t finished grieving for her, either.
She stole over the grass between the rows using familiar coordinates and found the grave of her stillborn daughter, Ebony.

Warning: Horror story

A family of blind one-legged ducks long ago keeled over and died next to an exploded shell of a discarded Tesla. It was once rumored that the key opinion leaders would return, but then all of the birds died.

That weird place where neurotypicals dwell