Top Stories
Stories in Fiction that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.
Vale Perficientur
"My tears need a minute to find the edges of my face. If you'll please excuse me." The sarcasm stabbed into Juliana’s heart. Antonia glared at her from the pit of the Lyceum as her student fought to hold back tears that had nothing to do with the pain in her fingers. “You’re better than this, again.”
Matthew FrommPublished 4 days ago in FictionForced Compliance Not Necessary
Some people knew this would happen. The chips in our heads, I mean. Everyone laughed. Isn't that funny? The crazy part: even the conspiracy nuts had a mobile phone. Everyone walked around with the "chip" glued to their hand, eyes glued to chip.
L.C. SchäferPublished a day ago in FictionThe Eidolon
The rain pattered on the sidewalk in a steady drizzle, pooling below the curb. The veiled mist of night obscured the way ahead, only being pierced by the high beams of the occasional passing car.
Starlight Manor
“First things first,” the white-haired boy commands over his shoulder. His voice is imperious as always, firm with a jurisdiction well beyond his mere fourteen years. “Don’t ask questions.”
angela hepworthPublished 6 days ago in FictionThe first step
Writtten for the We'z Walking on... unofficial challenge hosted by Proud ViM: ~¤~¤~¤~¤~¤~¤~¤~¤~¤~¤~¤~¤~¤~¤~¤~¤~¤~¤~¤~¤~¤~¤~¤~¤~¤~¤~¤~¤~¤~
WHATEVER HAPPENED TO ELLEN MARIE
WHATEVER HAPPENED TO ELLEN MARIE *** just had to know *** ++++++++++++ As Mike drove through the town he hadn’t seen in about twenty years, he wondered about those he’d left behind when he left for what he thought would be “greener pastures.” He wanted to make his mark on the world. Determination drove him and the little town of Meadowville wasn’t where he wanted to be.
Margaret BrennanPublished 7 days ago in FictionThe Road to Nowhere
Trigger warnings: Violence, Death. "May the Sun burn your tongue out, woman," Fredrick's father screamed the curse into his mother's ear as their elegant little carriage rumbled along, its polished wood and gilded trim glinting in the torchlight. They had just left the small village of Saffron and were on an unnamed road to the capital for the Royal wedding. Fredrick leaned back in his plush velvet seat to escape into the passing landscape, but across from him sat the servant boy, a scrappy lad named Jack. Jack's eyes held a mixture of awe and fear, the kind that only a commoner could feel in the presence of nobility. Jack looked up and caught Fredrick's gaze, offering him a sad little smile before reaching into his pocket and retrieving a little caramel treat. This candy was no doubt stolen from the kitchen treat cupboard; if he was caught with it, he would be locked in the box as punishment.
Frank EnglishPublished 6 days ago in FictionThe Ugliest Building
Mark Twain called the building I work in, “The ugliest building in America.” I agree. The Dwight D. Eisenhower Executive Office Building isn’t the largest in Washington, D.C., but its imposing façade makes it feel like it is. I work for the Office of E-Government and Information Technology. I have a satellite office in the bowels of this monstrosity. Working in this building gives us quick access to both the President and Vice-President because they also have offices here. This access may be why I’m in this situation, or maybe it’s the project I’m assigned to, or both.
Mark GagnonPublished 7 days ago in FictionShe loves me
She loved me. When I was small and my wee stayed to the paper. When I was rumpled skin and floppy big paws and big eyes looking up and waiting for her hands to find me, scooping me up and bringing me into her. And we were happy, so happy, so very, very happy. I was so happy to see her and danced my circles so she'd know how much I wanted nothing more than for her to hold me. I'd wrap, wiggle, wiggle and wrap my growing body with my bestest happy dance, slumping and kerplumping into her warm parts just like she liked me to. She was there and I was there, and we were there together, and it was perfect. Oh, how she loved me! We spent all our time together, playing inside, outside, up, down, going round and round. And she petted me and called me good girl when I made poops, and sometimes when I weed in her front yard or the neighbor's, and I was the best girl. For her, I really was! And she scratched me behind my ears, and it was heaven. I aowooo my joy! And she aowoooed hers too.
Christy MunsonPublished 8 days ago in FictionSins of the Reaper
Walking as rapidly as my bruised heel will allow, I begin to weep, barely able to suppress the desire to stop and let it all go, the sound of sirens rising to my ears as I round the block past my former apartment, my feet carrying me away from the only chapter in my past that I still clearly remember.
133 Waxing and Waning
Low tide, so I remain thankful, awakening--alive--to the sound of breakers. You see, now on my seventh morning, only my head remains above ground.
Gerard DiLeoPublished 8 days ago in FictionIllogical Fear
“There’s gotta be a logical explanation.” He said, and put his nicotine-stained fingers on the kid’s bony arm. “I swear, I saw two red eyes glaring at me from below the stairs.” The kid babbled. He was always babbling.