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Looking for a 5$ to 10$ remote work 30h a week

I'm doing a short film where the main characters will be a real horse and a real dog. They will later be voiced over by my female and male friend. The horse is a female and the dog is a male. The problem is that i have no idea what the movie should be about. I know that I want the horse and dog to be on a date, I'm gonna set up a table with plates, candles, etc on a field. Is there any creative soul who might help me with an idea to this movie? I want it to be kinda abstract and the relationship between the horse and dog should be a methaphor for humans relationship. Thank you!

Stable job,

Stable life,

All we need,

Its our choice,

Writing skill,

Can give you both,

Depends on you,

What you choose

Most writers does not write,

Because they think who read it,

But don’t think so much about it,

Just write and feel the magic with it.

Hey, I’m an amateur writer and am writing my first ever sci fi story. I’m developing of said story, I ran into an issue I wanted some feedback on. So the story premise is similar to red rising and other oppression revolution stories and I was planning on said oppressed people not being human. So I was wondering what people like you all who like sci fi would prefer to see in a sci fi book if you were reading it, and what would readers in general prefer to see in a story.

So my idea was for the oppressed people to either be humanoid aliens, typically seen in lots of sci fi genre like Star Wars, ETC. they could either be entirely aliens or to justify why they are humanoid is because they are evolutionary branches from humans in space. and the second idea was for the oppressed people to be entirely alien, not humanoid at all. Like variations in height, skin, eyes, ears, limbs, ETC.
My plan was for humans to be the dominant social class(because of the historical context and lore of the story) so which of those two options would be most intriguing and compelling to read about?

Also for context, the story would be adult and consist of mature themes like war, violent, revolution, and 18+ stuff(not smut)

So I have 500 upvotes in under a month there and they banned me because of a quality post or grammar could have been, rooms instead of room’s but it doesn’t make sense.

Why would I get banned for that? if you’re curious what the story was it’s this. So some perspective would be good.

Maybe it’s not the greatest, but come on. I didn’t deserve that.

Reign Soleil

What I see—what is happening, is the strangest experience imaginable. Nothing appears real. Everything looks fake like my room’s wearing the face of a corpse. 

Even as I glance at the window, the sky seems slightly off, resembling a still frame cropped out of a painting. It matches the exact color of the pavement, as if it‘s in the wrong dimension. 

It begins in my room, by the doorway, I hear a growling sound and turn around and behind me is a shadow of a man with features similar to a human and in his hands are two leashes attached to two human-like dogs that are in front of him, sitting like hellhounds would, with facial features stretching out how a bear’s face is.

I can’t ignore them.

Their presence kills the power to the TV when I‘m watching, True Blood, right when I’m  at the scene where Sookie and Bill break up.

I keep trying to frantically hit the power button on the remote, but it doesn’t work. The screen’s black and reflecting my image.

Without thinking, I raise my arm and point the changer at the figure with the two human hounds, gasp and push the power button towards them and they blink and in a flash, vanish. 

But the TV still won’t turn on.

I sit up wondering if what just happened actually did happen, or if maybe I fell asleep for a brief second, but the television still isn’t working, so I couldn’t be imagining it.

That’s when I decide to give up on it and snatch a book off my dusty shelf and clear a path that leaves two dust walls on both sides of the space I pull the book from, filling the air in particles that make me sneeze.

While I’m reading, there’s an atmospheric shift, like the static from an oncoming storm, raising the hairs on my arms which makes me shiver as a tingle shoots down my spine. 

The room has a scent of frost that reminds me of menthol cigarettes every time I take a breath.

And as I’m dwelling on that thought, the lights go out.

Just as I get to chapter four of The Turn of the Screw, and starting to really get into it. 

I squeeze my hand into a fist, digging my nails into my palm, grunt and throw the book against the wall, jump up, stomp to the doorway, flick the light switch but they don’t turn on. 

I keep trying. The rapid clicking sounds like teeth chippin. I go as far as to check the bulb—twisting, untwisting—and nothing. I leave my room to retrieve a new one, the hallway’s as humid as the Amazon Rain Forest and has a heavy stench of decay and infected flesh radiating from under the floorboards, making me gag. I can‘t stop choking. 

While I’m staring at the floor, behind me the bathroom door slams shut. I jump because the sound startles me and when I look at the door, there’s a crack going down the middle of it. 

Which I’m going to have to pay to fix and probably have to rip the floor apart just to find whatever dead animal’s under there. 

I walk downstairs to see if I can find where the rancid smell is coming from, but each step I take further down leaves me with the impression of being in another world.

Everything looks the same but seems completely different. Especially at the bottom of the stairs, like my living room became a simulation. The paint on the wall is smooth and pixelated.

And then a whisper comes from behind my ear in a slow kind of distorting moan.

“Get Out!” The voice stretches out.

I turn around quick, wondering at the same time how my mom could sneak down the stairs behind me without me noticing, but when I turn, nobody’s there.

“Get Out!” Says the air, blowing its breath in my face with the scent of rotting flesh.

I can’t handle the smell.

So, I head to the front and sit outside on the porch and  as the screen door closes I hear the door behind it shut as well and the lock clasp.

I turn to look over my shoulder and staring through the glass window is an older me, smiling and waving.

Hey there! I just posted my third article on Substack called "They are dead; they are gone. No one lasts forever." The Charli xcx song inspired this one (and hence the title), and it's about the idea of legacy and why legacy means nothing to the dead. Hope you guys enjoy and support my work!

https://niksarchives.substack.com/p/they-are-dead-they-are-gone-no-one?r=3x9hg7&utm_campaign=post-expanded-share&utm_medium=web

Some are born to live in imagination,

They are happy in their dreams,

Other are designated to live in truth,

Where life demands more than a illusion.