The Sunday Philosophy Club Novels & Stories

K for Kaleidoscope Jarren’s POV It’s Saturday. I made my way to the internet café since I couldn’t go to the arcade yesterday. I stayed late in the club room and had attended my first club meeting with them since our school’s festival is coming around the corner and we have at least a month to prepare for it. Reverie was there, too. I thought she’d remain quiet as I did, but she talked more than I expected her to. She planned with the rest of our club members, and I felt quite useless at that moment and had no idea what am I supposed to talk about with them.

He sniffed the air again, but what he thought he smelt before had vanished. "What's wrong?" She asked. "I," he hesitated, still looking around. "This is going to sound strange, but I thought I smelled something." "It is just the club. It always stinks after a good night. There is always sour mash on the floor and the smell of dope lingering. And of course, piss and vomit in the parking lot. Come on, I'll have you meet Paul. He should be here by now. We clean up on Sundays. Local code enforcement says no beer on Sunday, so we use it as the one night to get things done. And by we, I mean them. I don’t work for the club, I just sing here from time to time.”

I say, "do you think you can make it?" "Yeah," says Leonard with a nod, "swim practice is on Saturday." "I've noticed that. It seems all the clubs are on Saturday, leaving Sunday off for recreation, per se." "Are you in a club?" asks Leonard curiously. "No, not yet," I say, "I'm still thinking about joining a club, though it seems I won't be in one anytime soon." "Speaking of," I say as I glance around, "do you not have to go to swim practice?"

The three's reactions exceeded my expectation. I thought it would take me a few more words to invite them to the club. Kate smiled as she wiped her glasses, "We don't look like we party much, but actually the three of us are clubbing every Sunday." "You guys did?" I was stunned. As Kate said, these three with different personalities don't look like they party wild. But to think that these girls were actually a party-goer than Layla. Denise flipped her long hair, "What kind of college student doesn't party?"

“Welcome back to the Lunatic’s Club, my man.” “I’m no lunatic anymore, lunatics,” Phoenix replied with a grin, accepting the cupcake and taking a bite. “This tastes good. Thanks, buddy.” Atticus chuckled softly. Oh, right. There were two clubs in Bachelor’s Village—the Bachelor Men’s Club, for those who were married or about to get married, and the Lunatic’s Club, for singles without love lives. “Welcome back, Atticus,” Leo greeted, handing her a tulip. “Good to see you again.”

"Danny's picking on me. Make him stop." Debra tucked her daughter's hair behind her ears. "I think someone's tired." Dennis patted his knees and then stood with a groan. "She's not the only one. Sundays are long days." "We should be going, as well," Selby said, squeezing Faith's hand. "I would figure Sundays were restful for you," Valerie quipped. "Ah, well, all this hedonistic living can take a toll on a person." Selby helped Faith to stand, ignoring her shocked expression.

Then we'd traipse back tipsy together and melt into a shared bong on the couch, surrounded by movies, super-soft blankets, and whatever physical fun we wanted to get up to that day. #SundayFunday was a hashtag we constantly texted back and forth to each other when we were having particularly bad weeks and needed a pick-me-up reminder. It never failed to push us through our weekly stresses. We marveled at all the ways there were to fuck each other on those Sundays. She'd get out her toys and our lube, and we'd find all sorts of new places in the apartment to fuck. We would stand in front of the open window and fuck sometimes, wondering if anyone from the apartment across the street could see

“Yo, bro? Mind if I come over for a drink?” ... Red Club. Philip stood outside the elegant clubhouse—well known as being unlike any other club in the city. Despite its name, this “clubhouse” served only juice, tea, and coffee—no alcohol at all. The corner of his mouth twitched as he cast a sideways glance at Taylor. “This is the ‘great place’ you were talking about?” Taylor gave a calm, gentle smile. His eyes naturally curved when he smiled, the creases adding to his composed and refined aura.

However, the idea of submitting to someone's pronounced desires seemed so distant, and even ironic to someone like me, that the big joke was not to know if the discomfort I felt was given to the possibility of being tamed, or for wanting so much that I didn't know how to say it out loud. "You always said you wanted something that wasn't conventional. Well... there it is! “ Kendall shrugged. "Today is Tuesday, as I was told, the club is aimed at professionals on weekdays. Weekends are given classes and instructions by the volunteers. Only the best gentlemen and ladies will be present tonight. Some newbies set up groups so they don't feel cornered, we can be part of them and pretend we are bea

Adrian and Clara argue over who gets the last bite of vegetables, and I shake my head, smiling. When the bill comes, Adrian takes it without a word. I try to reach for it, but he shakes his head. “Don’t even think about it.” “Thank you,” I say quietly. He looks at me for a moment too long. “You’re welcome.” Outside, the night air is cool, brushing against my skin like a quiet whisper. The city lights reflect in puddles on the street. Clara loops her arm through mine. “You should come have dinner with us sometime,” she says cheerfully. “We do this little Sunday thing ,wine, pasta, and endless gossip about Adrian’s boring taste in music.”