Peter Groove 
Sarah Martinez had just finished her evening routine—checking locks, turning off lights, settling into bed with her phone for that final scroll through the news. That’s when she saw it: a grainy photograph of what looked like a smudge of green light against the black of space. The headline read “Mysterious Interstellar Visitor Detected.” She … Read more
Sarah stared at her laptop screen, cursor blinking mockingly on a blank document. Her phone buzzed once, twice, then lit up with a parade of notifications: three WhatsApp messages, a news alert about some celebrity drama, two work emails marked “urgent.” Her stomach growled, reminding her that breakfast was just coffee and yesterday’s leftover bagel. … Read more
Sarah stared at her range hood filter and felt a familiar wave of dread wash over her. The once-silver mesh had turned into what looked like a grease-soaked net, yellowed and sticky from months of cooking bacon, stir-fries, and late-night grilled cheese sandwiches. She’d been putting off cleaning it for weeks, imagining hours of scrubbing … Read more
Sarah sits at her kitchen table, coffee growing cold as she stares at her phone. The text from her boss arrived twenty minutes ago: “Can we chat today when you get a chance?” No context, no emoji, just those eight words that have sent her mind spinning into overdrive. She’s already mentally rehearsing apologies for … Read more
Sarah Martinez pulls up to the office building at 7:45 AM, grabs her toolbox, and heads to the service elevator. By 4:30 PM, she’s back in her truck, heading home to pick up her kids from school. No late-night emergency calls, no weekend emails, no guilt about leaving on time. Her paycheck? $75,000 a year, … Read more
Sarah stared at her laptop screen, the quarterly report blinking back at her with disappointing numbers. Around her, colleagues slumped in their chairs, defeated expressions painted across their faces. The project they’d worked on for months had just been cancelled, and the mood in the office felt heavy as concrete. But then there was Marcus. … Read more
Sarah had always been the friend everyone turned to. Funny, reliable, the one who remembered birthdays and offered a couch when someone needed it. But when her colleague Mark started leaving little notes on her desk and suggesting weekend plans, something inside her recoiled. She found herself making excuses, working late, even taking different routes … Read more
Sarah collapsed onto her couch after another 12-hour workday, promising herself she’d finally take a real break. No phone, no laptop, no mental to-do lists running in the background. She made chamomile tea and settled in for what should have been blissful relaxation. Instead, within minutes, her chest felt tight. Her mind raced with random … Read more
Sarah was folding laundry on a quiet Sunday afternoon when it happened again. The name just appeared in her mind like an unwelcome text message: Marcus. Her college roommate’s older brother who she’d had exactly three conversations with, fifteen years ago. She paused, a shirt halfway to the drawer, wondering why her brain kept serving … Read more
Sarah stares at her phone, thumb hovering over her brother’s contact. It’s been eight months since they last spoke, and now she’s getting married. Should she call? Text? The silence between them isn’t anger—it’s something harder to name. They used to build blanket forts together. Share secrets under flashlight beams. But somewhere along the way, … Read more