Top Stories
Stories in Fiction that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.
Bugs Of The Night, Together Burn Bright
Why is it that bugs fly to a flame? I thought it was the light. We are fickle things, bumbling in the darkness most of our lives, so when a beacon lights, we float toward it without thinking. We don’t know the source of the light beaming brightly in the night, nor the consequence of following it, but the journey draws us.
Eloise RobertsonPublished 3 years ago in FictionEl Amor
Mariposa sat at the small table in a café in Tarragona, Spain, patiently awaiting her date's arrival and hoping he would appear soon. Tarragona, though somewhat small, was a busy city due to the bullfights, and it was possible that Santiago had been delayed by unforeseen events since he worked at the Tarraco Arena where the bullring was located. Mariposa reassured herself he would arrive shortly. He had promised her that tonight would be a very special evening. The two had known each other for a year, but they had never been on an actual date until this evening.
Cindy CalderPublished 3 years ago in FictionAura
“How’s the color today, Missy?” Missy smiled weakly as she paid for her coffee. “Same as always.” Benjamin, Missy’s barista, winked, the smile wrinkles around his eyes crinkling. “It’s gonna change. It’s gonna change.”
Elizabeth Pugh RuizPublished 3 years ago in FictionHer Favorite Flower
Her favorite flowers were marigolds. In those halcyon days of summer past, we would run through fields full of all manners of wild flowers, but with every marigold she spotted she would stop, stoop low and take a deep breath. I can still see her there, in that periwinkle blue sun dress, turning back to me with a look of pure exultation. Happy to simply be alive! I can see her there, in those drowsy, endless summers, laughing and squealing with delight, with the purest pleasure at the simple fact that we existed at the same time, the same place, and that there were marigolds there too. A little slice of her own personal heaven.
David JamesPublished 3 years ago in FictionYellow, Yellow, Yellow
The sun beat down hot and heavy in the sky, the shadows on the ground were slimming. He’d be here soon. Tree tops swayed in the breeze as the bees carried out their pollination. The meadow was small yet open. I ran my fingers through the thin blades of grass surrounding my feet, knees tucked under my chin.
Miles VaessenPublished 3 years ago in FictionThe Lost Witch
There’s this feeling, that I cannot resist. When the sun delicately caresses you, and the breeze brushes past, rustling the trees on its way. The early stages of summer, when the cold is on its way out, and basking under the warmth of a rejuvenated sun is blissful.
Ariane TorelliPublished 3 years ago in FictionThe Flower of Flame
It was my 16th birthday. I sat at the kitchen table, staring at the unlit candles on my cake. My mom sat next to me, waiting for my grandma to arrive. I ran my fingers through my hair as we waited: it felt strange, having such short hair now. I’d gotten it cut yesterday, wanting to reinvent myself now that I was turning 16.
Sephy AtlasPublished 3 years ago in FictionFire Starter
“But, I l-love you!” I cried, my voice breaking. He shook his head. I was tired and felt like I needed to go lay down on the beach and just pretend to become one of local shells—-dried out and buried over time.
Melissa IngoldsbyPublished 3 years ago in FictionDia de Los Muertos
NOTE: This story is based on true events dramatized to convey my crisis of identity. *** Purple, amber, and white flowers adorned the table like a garden club meeting. I cannot name them but know the colors. The sun faded over the horizon, and the shifting hues radiated its prisms onto the walls of my daughter's living room. I escaped the throng of people inside to find my thoughts in the backyard.
J. S. WadePublished 3 years ago in FictionJiggle Jangle
Back when I was a little girl, around the age of eight, I think I would spend the night at my grandparents’ house whenever my parents worked late or needed some quiet time away. I loved going over to their house and spending the night. Hell, I think I asked every week to stay over, and I usually did. Being a parent now, I can understand why my parents appreciated some alone time away from me.
Joseph T StenbergPublished 3 years ago in FictionTo Light a Lantern
Midway through the Emperor’s 40th birthday banquet, a timid eunuch will enter Qilin Pavilion to announce the arrival of the Empress. Music and dancing will pause, and concubines will sigh, but instead of the Empress’s elaborate phoenix hairpiece and decadent yellow robe, another eunuch will appear, bearing an unassuming box wrapped in brown parchment paper. The eunuch will declare the box to be a special present from the Empress.
The Weight of the First
Fireflies winked in and out of existence as the warm air enveloped me. It would have been a welcome hug if it wasn’t for the humidity that clung to my skin.
R.C. TaylorPublished 3 years ago in Fiction