Nicole Winchester 📚
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nicolewinchester.bsky.social
Nicole Winchester 📚
@nicolewinchester.bsky.social
470 followers 1.1K following 940 posts
Writer and reader of horror, fantasy, spec fic, drama, humor... a little of everything.

🚫AI WRITING CAN F OFF. PEOPLE, NOT ALGORITHMS. ✊

Find some of my stories at winchesterfiction.com
Enjoy other things at nicolewinchester.substack.com
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nicolewinchester.bsky.social
#wipsnips #writesky #writingcommunity #writingprompts
Jim is on the verge of getting fired.
Kevin, Jim’s manager, sat behind his bare, metal desk and scrolled through something on his computer screen. He kept his wraparound sunglasses on in the fluorescent lit room. His huge hand dwarfed the mouse, like he was trying to squash a bug every time he used the scroll button. Kevin wasn’t the type of guy that belonged behind a desk, but he did belong at a hardware store. He looked weird to Jim when he wasn’t prowling the floor in his red apron lined with pins, limping slightly on his prosthetic leg, the real one having been blown to smithereens in Afghanistan. War hero Kevin, the pride and joy of shitty little Pinto, Texas, his childhood bully all grown up. It wasn’t true what adults had told him about bullies when he was a kid. They didn’t languish in obscurity after school. They became model citizens and got Purple Hearts, leeching off the self confidence they’d stolen from people like Jim.
December 5, 2025 at 4:00 PM
nicolewinchester.bsky.social
#wipsnips #writingcommunity #writingprompts
This is a vision that Jim has, living through something he never actually experienced in his lifetime...
Dust spends days and nights walking. Rolling hills poke into the sky, misty at first, almost as transparent as Dust, but they take shape the further she walks. Then she’s walking through a valley with tree-lined hills on either side. Then a city. There are more people in the streets and in the square. Many more. Sometimes, Dust can even come up close to them, unless a dog is on watch nearby. The dogs always bark and howl at her. Sometimes babies cry if she gets too close. There are men drinking, sweating through their clothes, swearing, playing cards with each other. There are women beating out rugs next to their houses and scolding their children. They’re warm, the people. They radiate more warmth than the sun as they sit or stand or do whatever they do. Even though they are always moving, they seem content. More than she is, at least.
December 4, 2025 at 5:05 PM
nicolewinchester.bsky.social
#wipsnips #writingcommunity #writesky #writingprompts
Jim tries to fit in at a birthday party, but his intrusive thoughts butt in
Her relatives all just loved Mike. They came to him two at a time, smiling and laughing and talking while Mike flipped over burgers and hot dogs, like a real suburban dad. Jim wanted so badly to grab a beer or three and hide out in the house somewhere, but he knew better. Carla was coming late, and if she caught him drinking there would be hell to pay later. Jim’s voice recounted all of the weird and horrible things he’d done around each of Lucia’s relatives—humiliating reminders that he didn’t belong around people at all. Remember when you punched a hole in the wall at Lucia’s parents’ house while you guys were fighting? Remember when you got mad at Abuelita because she called you fat, and you made her cry?
December 1, 2025 at 4:42 PM
nicolewinchester.bsky.social
#wipsnips #writesky #writingcommunity #writingprompts This clip is full of spoilers, hence all the blanks. Jim is having a very bad time and needs his therapist's help. TW for psychotic episode
A long, anxious pause filled the silence until ____ finally spoke. “Fine. Another few minutes on this plane of existence won’t make much of a difference, anyway. Make it quick.” Jim stumbled back into the house, relieved and somewhat perplexed that ____ had relented. He tried not to look at the gun waiting for him in the hallway, at ____ lying dead under the towel. He shut the bathroom door and locked it again. As if that could stop ____ from coming through. He waited for a second before picking up the phone, trying to detect ____‘s presence in the room. His skin didn’t prickle, his heart didn’t race. He was as safe as he was going to be. Jim dialed Ben’s number. He picked up on the fifth ring. “Hello, Jim? What’s up?”
November 30, 2025 at 4:12 PM
nicolewinchester.bsky.social
#wipsnips #writesky #writingcommunity #writingprompts
Jim meets his heart rat. ♥️🐀
Jim moved a bag of birdseed out of the way to get to a bag of potting soil, then stumbled back and yelled, “Shit!” at the top of his lungs. A group of huge brown rats scattered in all directions. Most of them headed to the corner, where they disappeared into a crack in the wall. Birdseed spilled out over the floor through the holes they’d gnawed in the bag. He dropped it. He’d seen a mouse or two in the store, but never an entire swarm of rats all at once. As he calmed his racing heart, a blur of movement caught the corner of his eye. A single small brown-and-white rat had stuck around. It pressed itself against the bottom shelf, moving cautiously towards Jim, then poked its head out towards the birdseed, sniffing.
November 21, 2025 at 3:36 PM
nicolewinchester.bsky.social
#wipsnips #writesky #writingcommunity #writingprompts
Carla tells Jim something that nearly jogs loose a memory in his brain.
Jim’s phone buzzed again. He stopped himself from throwing it across the room. God damned spam callers. “Mom couldn’t work after you flipped out freshman year,” said Carla. “She was too exhausted from the stress of it, so I got a job and I worked. I paid the bills for months until she could get back on her feet. You refused to get a job when you got home.” Jim opened his mouth to argue, but stopped short. What in the world did she mean, when he got home? Home from school the day it happened? Something electric buzzed up his spinal cord, what he thought was a warning, but it was just his phone vibrating for the third time in a row. He growled as he finally took it out of his pocket. It was Lucia.
November 19, 2025 at 4:09 PM
nicolewinchester.bsky.social
#wipsnips #writesky #writingcommunity #writingprompts
Jim argues with Lucia about getting an expensive present for Dylan's birthday
“No, I thought your parents were getting that for him. It’s still a hundred fucking dollars with the customs tax and the shipping, and I thought you realized that I obviously couldn’t afford it.” “You can’t spend a hundred dollars for your son’s birthday?” “I got fired, Lucia!” It exploded out of him before he could control his voice. He hissed in a breath and listened for Carla and Dylan. They were still in the yard. If Carla had heard that she would have blown through the door to throttle him already. “I got fired, and Carla makes me buy my own food and shit, and there’s the phone bill, and the car keeps crapping out. I’m sorry.”
November 17, 2025 at 5:10 PM
nicolewinchester.bsky.social
Your last saved meme is your moral philosophy
Crazy goofy saying I'll fuckin do it again
November 17, 2025 at 6:25 AM
nicolewinchester.bsky.social
#wipsnips #writesky #writingcommunity #writingprompts
So this is a little different... this is from one of the "visions" that Jim has, in which he is a pig in the 1700's.
Love comes running up first, carrying a bucket of milk so full that it spills over the sides. The small boy can barely handle it. He lets the milk down with a thud and a slosh, then climbs up on the sty fence and leans over. Love always smiles when he sees the pig. The pig remains unimpressed by Love. “Mam, will she farrow soon?” asks Love. “Come down from there, love,” scolds Mam. Love takes his time, but jumps off. Mam pours slop into the pig’s trough. “Three months, three weeks, and three days. I reckon she’s almost there. Now pick up that milk, or the bugs will get in.”
November 16, 2025 at 4:36 PM
nicolewinchester.bsky.social
#wipsnips #writesky #writingcommunity #writingprompts
Jim gets into a fight with his sister after he's fired from his shitty job.
Jim bit his lip. Against every instinct, he almost wanted to laugh, and had no idea why. It was all a farce. His brain, his life, his existence. Carla’s scowl returned. “It is true, isn’t it?” Jim shrugged. Her face went beet red, just like Kevin’s. Jim braced for impact. “I worked fifty-five hours last week,” she screamed, poking him on the arm hard enough to leave a bruise. He didn’t flinch. “This entire goddamned year, I’ve worked overtime almost every week. How long has it been since you could keep a job for more than six months? No, more than four months? That’s how long this one lasted, right?” “Approximately,” he muttered.
November 14, 2025 at 4:46 PM
nicolewinchester.bsky.social
#writingprompt Jim hurts himself on more than one occasion, out of anger and frustration and feelings of inadequacy as a father. In this scene he can't afford a present for his son's birthday. TW for self harm, obviously.
Jim backed out of the driveway, drove out of the neighborhood, pulled over into the edge of someone else’s yard, and dug into a case of beer. The warm liquid fizzed over onto his pants and seat when he opened a can. He chugged until he had to pause for breath. Even though he knew it was useless, Jim searched for the hoodie blind box combo again on his phone. He’d been wrong about the price. It was actually one hundred and twenty dollars, plus a small fortune in shipping to get it to Texas in time for Dylan’s birthday party. Jim put his phone and beer down and slapped himself as hard as he could across the face. It felt good, and for some reason that wasn’t surprising. He followed the first slap with another, and another, and another. Jim deserved every bit of pain he could inflict on himself. He kept going until he knew it was going to leave a welt later.
November 14, 2025 at 4:40 PM
nicolewinchester.bsky.social
#wipsnips #writesky #writingcommunity #writingprompts
Jim has an impromptu therapy session with Ben after having a Very Bad Time
Ben let out a long, “Oo-oh,” and nodded. “I see. Do you have a good relationship with Lucia and Mike?” “I mean, I guess. Lucia and I still talk. Mike talks at me a lot, but I feel like he’s in a different universe with company trust building exercises and client quotas, corporate crap I don’t understand.” He lowered his voice, his throat starting to close up. “He’s better for both of them than I am. He can afford what Dylan wants. He’s got a big house, nice cars…” He paused as his lip began trembling. Ben placed his hand over his stomach again, a signal for Jim to do the same. In and out. “I’m having the thought that I’m a bad father.” In and out. “I’m having the thought that my son will never really love me.”
November 13, 2025 at 5:02 PM
nicolewinchester.bsky.social
#wipsnips #writesky #writingcommunity #writingprompts
Jim and his therapist, Dr. Ben Ngo, meet for the first time.
Jim grabbed his umbrella and loped out of the car through the lawn. “Hurry, hurry, hurry!” cried the doctor as Jim made it to the stoop. They both let out a sigh of relief as they folded up their umbrellas in the sunroom. Dr. Ngo hadn’t escaped the rain, despite the umbrella. The bottom half of his gray sweatpants were speckled with big drops and his house slippers looked a bit wet. He took off his glasses, wiping them on the edge of his bright yellow Hawaiian shirt. Dr. Ngo put his glasses back on his face. “It’s like a hurricane out there, huh?” “Yeah. Sorry I’m late.” The doctor flapped a hand at him dismissively. “Oh, don’t worry about it. Can’t blame you, in this weather.”
November 12, 2025 at 5:42 PM
nicolewinchester.bsky.social
Convincing you to read my novel by the first sentence. Share yours if you want. (Mine is also a tease... not out yet, have to do some editing. See photo below)
Pictures of two angels, the Washington Monument, and a diner. Text says "No one noticed two men materialize at an empty table in a tiny restaurant in Washington D.C."
November 11, 2025 at 6:58 PM
nicolewinchester.bsky.social
#wipsnips #writesky #writingcommunity #writingprompts
I mentioned the song "Jeremy" having a symbolic meaning in this story. Jim hears it on the radio.
Lush, green pastures whooshed by as Jim sped twenty miles over the speed limit down the highway. He left the radio indefinitely tuned to the local classic rock station, still incensed by the fact that the songs of his youth were now considered classic. “Jeremy” by Pearl Jam came on and Jim turned up the already loud radio a few tics. He mouthed along to the lyrics he’d known forever. The song was about a boy killing himself in front of his classmates, its real meaning hidden with poetic license. Rather than make him uncomfortable, though, the song made Jim feel seen.
November 10, 2025 at 4:18 PM
nicolewinchester.bsky.social
#wipsnips #writesky #writingprompts #writingcommunity
The very first words of my manuscript. Jim meets his son for the first time.
Jim Erlenmeyer’s brand new son squirmed against his chest. The baby grunted, his eyes shut against the sunlight shining through the window. Jim blinked. His thoughts floated like the balloons bobbing on the ceiling, while his older sister, Carla, cried and took pictures. This is my son, he thought. I have a son. Jim had driven himself and Carla to the hospital as soon as he’d gotten the call from Lucia… the woman he’d loved, and hated, and pined for; the mother of his child. Jim had run through the hallways, closing his eyes and plugging his ears whenever he could, even though it made him look like a lunatic.
November 9, 2025 at 4:35 PM
nicolewinchester.bsky.social
#novmemeber OK this might have taken Two Minutes instead of one cause I had to figure out how to change the pen color. Jim wearing his hardware store apron.
Sketch of a sad man wearing an apron that says Jim
November 9, 2025 at 4:24 PM
nicolewinchester.bsky.social
November 8, 2025 at 10:07 PM
nicolewinchester.bsky.social
#wipsnips #writesky #writingcommunity #writingprompts
Jim tries to navigate a conversation with his ex's current beau, Mike.
November 8, 2025 at 9:35 PM
nicolewinchester.bsky.social
#wipsnips #writesky #writingprompts #writingcommunity
Jim tries to find the little white rat he found at the department store.
He threw the small cage he’d bought into the backseat along with a bag of litter, rat pellets, and a water bottle and carefully headed to Malcolm’s in the dark. No speeding now, not with beer on his breath and jeans. Jim knew precisely what was on the other side of that hole in the storeroom: the dumpster outside. The perfect place for a horde of rats to live. Jim would never be allowed in the storeroom again—possibly in the store at all—so this would be his only shot if Kevin hadn’t already poisoned them. When he drove behind the store and around the corner, he saw a flicker of movement on the ground near the dumpster. Good, there were still some alive. Hopefully the one he wanted was okay.
November 7, 2025 at 3:34 PM
nicolewinchester.bsky.social
#questpit #q #a #f
THE MESSENGER
Parable of the Sower x Paradise Lost
The Archangel Gabriel was not meant to falter, to fall. But an unapologetic human witch, and Gabriel's own doubts in God’s plan, may break his faith beyond repair as the end of the world closes in.
Pictures of two angels, the Washington Monument, and a diner. Text reads, "No one noticed two ment materialize at an empty table in a tiny restaurant in Washington DC..." Pictures of a symphony, tea leaf reading, a tarot card, and clouds. Text reads, "She almost gasped as she pulled the next card. Judgement. The cared of resurrected life and purpose. An angel blowing his horn, waking the dead from their graves. Upright." Pictures of a man's hand on a bed, a country road, a tent, and a field. Text reads, "What got into you all of a sudden?' she asked. 'I don't know." He closed his eyes. "I think... perhaps I was tired of not living. Tired of crying, looking down instead of up.'"
November 5, 2025 at 6:03 PM
nicolewinchester.bsky.social
#wipsnips #writesky #wrtingcommunity #writingprompts
Jim is *this close* to getting fired by his manager, Kevin.
Kevin cleared his throat and stopped scrolling. Jim imagined Kevin’s screen was a list of reasons to fire him trailing down endlessly into oblivion. Not like Jim hadn’t been in this scenario before in other part-time retail jobs. It never ended well. “So, we’re starting to see a pattern here, right?” said Kevin. “Almost every time we get a bad review about our customer service, your name is mentioned. Let me read this one—‘Asked employee named Jim where the U bolts were, he stared at me and pointed but didn’t say anything, then took off his apron and walked away.’”
November 5, 2025 at 5:20 PM
nicolewinchester.bsky.social
#wipsnips #writesky #writingcommunity #writingprompts
Both incidences of "steel" in my WIP are pretty spoilery, so I went with "metal" instead. Jim tries to get through his first therapy appointment with Ben.
“We don’t have to get into any personal specifics today,” Ben said, trying to sound reassuring. “I just want to know how long you went, what kind of techniques your past therapists used—if you remember—and I need to know if you were diagnosed with anything and prescribed any medicine.” “I started when I was ten,” Jim said coldly. “That guy diagnosed me with depression, then the next psychologist I went to at eleven tried to diagnose me with autism, too… which is stupid, because I completely understand social norms and shit like that.” “Uh huh.” Ben was writing again, head down, the scratching of his pen like a tiny fingernail against metal.
November 4, 2025 at 4:33 PM
nicolewinchester.bsky.social
#wipsnips #writesky #writingcommunity #writingprompts
Jim brings his rat to his therapy session, much to his therapist's dismay.
Jim was about to knock on the door again when Ben called out from the other side. “Jim? You’re still there, aren’t you?” “Yes…” The door opened slowly. Ben took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry I slammed the door in your face. That was a knee-jerk reaction. But I really wasn’t expecting—” he glanced back down at Retsu and grimaced. “I’m sure your rat is very nice, but I’m not keen on having it anywhere near me. Can’t you just leave it in the sunroom during our session?” “Like I said, it’s too hot out here.” Ben groaned. “Okay. Alright.” He opened the door all the way and beckoned Jim in.
November 3, 2025 at 3:56 PM
nicolewinchester.bsky.social
#wipsnips #writesky #writingcommunity #writingprompts Don't have "cobweb" but I do have "spider"... sort of. It counts. TW for self harm.
Desperate and losing consciousness, Jim wound his fist back and punched himself in the teeth. Blinking, he came to, wondering if he’d blacked out anyway and the screaming was from whatever fucked up charades his family had watched him perform. His mouth pounded in pain. His side window sported a new spidery crack where his thick skull had hit. Something warm, blood or drool or both, seeped down his lip. Well. It worked. He was somehow wide awake. The tinnitus he’d given himself couldn’t drown out Carla screaming at him as he shakily started the car and drove away, swerving into the neighbor’s yard and back into the street.
November 2, 2025 at 4:39 PM