Fiction
Calling all Ernest Hemingways, Toni Morrisons, Stephen Kings, Octavia Butlers, and James Baldwins of the world - Fiction is the place for your stories to run wild.
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The Shape-Shifting Swimmer
Stormy's long, lean, body bulleted through the water, her strong legs propelling her beyond the bay and into the open ocean. She knew her gift had to do with the sea- her grandmother always told her she was more salt than sugar and she had a feeling this wasn't just a jab at her temper. As the ocean floor dropped, Stormy slowed her pace. She looked toward her home, the island key of Sol, allowing herself a moment of contemplation before taking the plunge. Her dream last night told her what to do, but did she trust her magic well enough to take the dream seriously?
Amanda WilsonPublished a day ago in FictionBento Boxes
I didn’t hear the end of the world. I saw it though. Swirling masses of colour shifting across the screen of my ipad. Hurricanes first. Lots, and lots of hurricanes. It was the worst year for hurricanes on record. Then we had earthquakes, I felt them vibrating the house. Tsunamis followed by a few volcanic eruptions and a sudden drop in temperature. All in a perfect little span of less than a month. An apocalypse professionally gift wrapped, bow and all.
Kelsey ReichPublished 2 days ago in Fiction
A World Away
I arrived at our usual spot. We always met at the park, just a 15-minute walk from my house. Mirabelle went to a different high school than me—whereas I went to public school, she went to a small, all-girls private school, so, aside from weekends, we could only meet after the school day ended.
Sephy AtlasPublished 3 days ago in Fiction
Yosia's Magic
Molly Marsh loved to travel. But this journey was different from all the others. This time, she had said goodbye to her friends for an entire year. Then she had cried herself to sleep, clinging to her beloved cat, Kiki, who she would miss most of all.
Valerie ANDREWSPublished 4 days ago in Fiction
Reasonable Assumption
A knock at the door alerts the household. None of the three occupants are expecting a visitor or a package, and yet there is someone at the door. The mystery is elusive and each of the guys struggles to manage their excitement at the prospect of receiving actual, real-life, adult-style post. They each run for the door, Tony from his bedroom upstairs bounding down, shaking the house on its already poorly constructed foundations, Aaron from the kitchen, rubber gloves still on from doing the washing up, and PJ lagging behind after rushing off the toilet, stumbling towards the front door still doing his flies up. Each has a similar running commentary on what could be outside their own front door. Perhaps it is the hot pizza girl, "accidentally" delivering to the wrong address again. This had already triggered numerous arguments over who she truly wanted to sleep with when in reality she simply worshipped chaos and saw the fragility of this households combined ego.
Ryan AppleyardPublished 5 days ago in Fiction
Frozen Dreams
Frozen Dreams Making her way slowly through the melting snow, Annie began to realize she may have waited too long. The chill of the early evening was becoming deeper, and she pulled her wrap tighter around her frail neck. Resolutely she trudged on, her thick rubber golashes crunching in the icy grass, they were beginning to take on the cold, only the two pair of wool socks kept her feet warm against the frozen elements.
Gâteau
She was never supposed to see that beige, crinkled up piece of a paper on that Tuesday morning. But she did, and after that, nothing was the same. First, let’s begin a few hours before that moment.
Natalie SpackPublished 7 days ago in FictionThe Apple Fell Next to the Family Tree
"You just can't help but get yourself in trouble." Her voice echoed in the back of my head. At night when the world is quiet and every room is too dark I made out silhouettes of my mother. Her poisonous whispers blended into my thoughts and the heartbeat I heard against my pillow.
Jane PalomboPublished 7 days ago in Fiction
Against the ruin of the world
It wasn’t there yesterday. It wasn’t even there this morning. It had appeared sometime between lunch and sunset and, judging by the lack of sogginess, Pearl was thinking it had arrived later rather than sooner. She looked at it long and hard, gave it a nudge (it was heavy), and looked at it some more. She sniffed it, but no particular aroma stood out.
Rebecca LuptonPublished 2 minutes ago in Fiction
A Vampire's Gift
Madelyn hears the doorbell and, startled, drops the framed picture in her hand. It drops to the wooden floor but doesn't break. The eyes of a sociopath stare back at her with smug eyes. Madelyn was lost in the picture for what seemed like hours. The fall echoed in her old room in the Attic, revealing her past. Not much has changed in her old home. The posters of her favorite shows and bands still plaster the walls. Her favorite colors drape the windows, mark the bedspread and etch the rugs. Madelyn feels alien in the room and misses that innocent girl who spent so much time there.
Omari HuguleyPublished 2 minutes ago in FictionThrough the Lens
Chapter 1: Iris Her name was Jannie. Jannie Michaels. She was my best friend. Key word, was. Now, I stand beside her younger sister Carley and hold her hand as she sobs beside her parents, watching Jannie’s coffin lower into the cold depths of the Earth. I always knew Jannie and I would be best friends with each other until death, but never did I imagine it would be the winter of sophomore year. She was only 16. The foggy graveyard was nothing but a creepy site of mourning over the terrible loss everyone here had just faced. Even my boyfriend, or shall I say, my ex, bothered to show up and pay his respects on this dreary January morning. This town is small, so word travels fast. The typical community of people who can respect one another while also silently backstabbing them and slitting their throats. Everyone has to be perfect, otherwise they are misfits who struggle to gain any sense of having a “good” reputation. As for those who already have a “good” reputation in town, they will do anything to keep it that way. Of course, this is amongst the teenagers, as for the parents, they are oblivious to this social hierarchy and the injustices their children face in some way because they are wrapped up in battling each other over who has the best child.
Tate RussellPublished 2 minutes ago in Fiction
The Messenger
It’s the wet season; an imperial messenger sails down the Chobe River with a parcel wrapped in tawny papyrus. The messenger scans the horizon with a blended sense of wonder and disappointment. As widely as the land stretches on either side, with its golden reeds and flowery hills, he is contained by the swollen banks of the somnolent river. Without the slightest effort, it seems, the river carries him on to his destination, to deliver his parcel to its destined recipient.
Danil ChernovPublished 3 minutes ago in Fiction
School Sucks
Adara woke and checked the time. Hissing out an expletive she rolled out of bed. She was late. Carline ALWAYS chastised her for being late. Adara hated that more than anything.
Valerie BurnsPublished 4 minutes ago in Fiction
The Fruit of One's Labour
“Good afternoon, Abe. Would you mind coming with me?” The officer’s casual tone belied the obvious wariness he wore about him. Abe gave one of his signature sneers, the one he reserved for pencil-pushers and jobsworths. As he followed into the interview room, the neat blue uniforms of the officers and the practiced indifference provided him a burst of savage humour. Waste his time? They’d soon discover he could play that game too.
Inigo AtkinPublished 5 minutes ago in Fiction
My Mama's Secrets
I knew I should have worn pants instead of shorts, but the house was sweltering. The air conditioning unit was broken, the ceiling fans didn’t work, and it was the middle of summer in Georgia. My shirt clung to my back drenched in sweat. The hardwood floor bit into my knees as I kneeled and looked into yet another box that my mother had tossed useless stuff in.
Cassie WoodsPublished 5 minutes ago in Fiction
Memory Box
My commanding officer met me outside in the sandy space between the sleeping quarters and the offices. Her voice was uncharacteristically restrained and her body language subdued, as if she was tenuously containing something that was difficult to say and wasn’t quite prepared to say it. As we walked the short distance to her office I endured her small talk about life in the desert and answered with little mmhmms and yeses. In between, I was swallowing hard and fast, trying to choke off the anxiety that was currently trying to choke me.
Creators We’re Loving
The creative faces behind your favorite stories.
Amanda Wilson
2 published stories
Kelsey Reich
58 published stories
Sephy Atlas
2 published stories
Valerie ANDREWS
3 published stories
Ryan Appleyard
3 published stories
Gayle
9 published stories
Natalie Spack
31 published stories
Jane Palombo
2 published stories
Jason Burnham
3 published stories
Michael Darvall
9 published stories
Ace_Strider
4 published stories
MATTHEW FLICK
18 published stories
