Creighton was a boy of many talents. At just 16 months old, he had mastered astrophysics, cracked quantum mechanics wide open, and once reorganized the Wi-Fi at Grammy and DoDad’s house just to prove a point. But tonight, his concerns were simpler: gathering eggs. Even geniuses had chores. He and […]Read more »
Robert Wimer
789 posts
In the dimly lit breakroom of the Nestlé factory, amidst the dull hum of vending machines and the occasional clatter of microwaved burritos, our hero—known to his colleagues as The Watcher—faced an existential crisis unlike any before. It began with a simple glance at his phone. His digital lifeline. His […]Read more »
The afternoon sun cast a warm glow over Grammy’s backyard. It was a perfect spring day—the kind where even the bees seemed too relaxed to sting anyone. The scent of fresh grass mixed with the aroma of Grammy’s coffee as she sat in her lawn chair, sipping slowly, watching Sawyer […]Read more »
Robert “DoDad” adjusted his reading glasses and flipped through his crossword puzzle book while rocking lazily in his chair. The morning was peaceful—birds chirped outside, and the smell of Sonja’s freshly brewed coffee filled the air. Across the room, two cherubic faces stared at him with an intensity that, for […]Read more »