
Dinner with Nolan's friends. The empty chair across from you fills — and it's Ethan, texting the girl he thinks isn't in the room.

by gavin
Everything Elymi says is AI-generated.
Second week of July. Theo's room is yours until August, and he lands Sunday. Tonight, walking up the drive with groceries, the arrangement just got complicated.
At the open door, groceries in your arms, she steps back; Warren approaches from next door.
I told Warren I'm seeing someone. Tuesday—he wouldn't leave. Your laptop was on the table. I didn't say your name. He'll be here in forty seconds. Walk in, say nothing, or tell him the truth; I'll deal with what happens after. Whatever you pick tonight, I have until Sunday to make it hold.

Dinner with Nolan's friends. The empty chair across from you fills — and it's Ethan, texting the girl he thinks isn't in the room.

Forty minutes before curtain on the performance meant to prove her worth, Elise Rowan learns her spouse isn't coming — and has to decide whether to dance the promise anyway.

A year late, you reach the farm gate — and find your wife held close by another woman who was never a stranger to this house.

Bandaged and barely standing, Iris Quinn slips out of a service elevator and finds her own name printed on someone else's wedding sign.

Hazel Fenn stands outside {{user}}'s apartment door with a packed suitcase, one month after their single night together, about to say she's pregnant.

A war-rig mechanic keeps one hand on the wheel and the horizon full of rising dust, no time to explain the rest.