Classical

The Door at the End of the Hall
The Door at the End of the Hall You have lived in this house for six months. You have never been in this room. The door isn’t locked. That’s the first thing: your hand on the knob, standing in the hall. You’d always assumed it was locked, never wondered why. It isn’t. It’s just a door, like any other door, the knob cool and brass, turning easily under your palm.
By Jin2 days ago in Fiction
The Thermocline Vanished in August. By September, the Lake Was Frozen.
I Cayuga Lake in August was supposed to be warm. Not tropical. Not the bathwater warmth of a shallow pond. This was a layered warmth: the top few meters holding summer heat at twenty-five or twenty-six degrees, so that when you jumped in, the water closed around you like a bath left sitting for an hour. Below that, the temperature dropped fast. At ten or fifteen meters, the water was seven or eight degrees, the memory of winter, locked under an invisible barrier that held it down all summer.
By Jin3 days ago in Fiction
Some Kind Of Crazy
It was a record hot summer that year Seemed everyday was a hundred or more The sun would rise blazing in a sky crystal clear
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsden3 days ago in Fiction
Jagged Little Pills And Cinderella Illusions
you located the weakness and casually opened the door leaving everyone speechless, like you'd been here before standing there, in the doorway, you simply let yourself in
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsden4 days ago in Fiction
Hide the bodies
For many years Ron and his family had raised cats, at least 5 at any time. This also meant that cats passed away , so they were buried in organised plots in the front garden. The back garden was all concrete , it had to be the front. Each time a plot was required the burial garden was neatly dug up, the cat placed in the hole and the burial took place. There was even a burial stone, also a few mounds of earth where earth was displaced.
By ASHLEY SMITH6 days ago in Fiction
Last Call
The gray road splits perfectly before me. All I can do is stare at the diverging paths, as the first few flakes of snowfall melt against my windshield. It’s the first snow fall of the season - I know that logically.
By Taylor Rigsby11 days ago in Fiction
My Old Dog Had a Strange Autumn Ritual at an Abandoned Mill. It Took Me Years to Understand Why.
Every autumn, as soon as the first leaves began to fall, my fourteen-year-old Labrador, Barnaby, would change. Most of the year he was a lazy old dog who spent much of his time asleep on the sofa. But every autumn, he became obsessed with an old abandoned water mill at the edge of our property.
By Lenka Čihařová13 days ago in Fiction
INHERITANCE
ATLANTA, GA She drove into the fresh morning dawn, humming something low and light drifting from SiriusXM smooth jazz. The sky over the pines was a pale blue portrait brushed with long wisps of raw cotton, stretched across a blue canvas like an artist had left faint trails behind. Honeysuckle drifted through the air — sweet enough to make her slow down and breathe it in.
By Reneegede716 days ago in Fiction
Reality Check
Mama said to her babies I’m running out for awhile Do not open the door for a stranger They will try to deceive you by wearing a smile
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsden16 days ago in Fiction
Ch.5 The Spell Broken
Rebecca was happy, she knew this was right. THE SPELL BROKEN Back at the Russian Palace, tension filled the air. The Tsar busied himself in official business, losing all interest in his new wife. Rachael wanted another child but the Tsar wouldn’t go near her, blaming her for the death of their first child. Catherine stayed very quiet for all of this time. She knew that as the spell started to break, the curse would get stronger. And this is indeed what was happening!
By Ruth Elizabeth Stiff18 days ago in Fiction
Ch.4 True Love
Was she wise to trust Peter? TRUE LOVE Any fears the old Tsarina had would have quickly faded had she seen how Peter had cared for Rebecca. Thousands of miles away, in his native country, America, Peter loved Rebecca. He made sure that Rebecca had her own room, new clothes and would see her every day, talking to her and looking into her eyes.
By Ruth Elizabeth Stiff18 days ago in Fiction
Ch.3 The Curse
He would break the spell somehow, he loved Rebecca. THE CURSE A few months later, the Tsarina fell pregnant with her first child. As always, the Tsar was delighted, but did wonder if it really was his. This new wife was such a flirt, even with the servants! The sons of the Tsar were away on official business. The Palace seemed quiet without the chatter of his only daughter. Heartbroken by her absence, the old Tsar lit a candle for Rebecca in the Palace Cathedral. It was here that he suddenly remembered his mother, though why he did not know.
By Ruth Elizabeth Stiff18 days ago in Fiction