family

The Audacity of Youth.
*Don't take that path...it diverges into pain and regret*. Martin tried to redirect younger HIM to an easier path to maturing.
By Novel Allen11 months ago in Fiction
The Clock That Knew My Name
Tick. Tick. Tick. That sound had always been ordinary to me. The gentle heartbeat of time that fills a quiet room. But that changed the day the clock said my name.
By Waqas Ahmad11 months ago in Fiction
Bunny and His Helpful Friends
Bunny and His Helpful Friends BY: Khan Deep inside a green, peaceful forest, there stood a huge old tree with wide, shady branches. Beneath that tree lived a cheerful rabbit named Bunny. It was his cozy little home, dug safely under the roots. One bright summer morning, Bunny opened his eyes and realized that the sun was already high up in the sky. It was going to be a very hot day. Stretching and yawning, he said to himself, “Oh dear! I slept so long. I must hurry up and go to the market before it gets too hot. Once the sun rises higher, even stepping outside will be difficult!” Bunny quickly washed his face and paws, finished the leftover food from last night, changed his clothes, and picked up his little basket. Hopping out of his burrow, he began his cheerful journey toward the market. He had barely hopped a few steps when he heard a tiny voice call out, “Brother Bunny! Brother Bunny!” Bunny stopped and looked around, puzzled. The voice was so faint, he couldn’t tell where it was coming from. He looked up, down, to the left and right — but saw no one. Then the voice called again, “I’m here! Down here!” Bunny looked carefully toward the tall grass beside the path — and there he spotted Mr. Mouse, wearing round glasses and carrying a little bag on his shoulder. “Oh! Mr. Mouse! What a surprise!” Bunny said happily. “I thought I’d come visit you,” said Mr. Mouse, smiling. “It’s been days since we met. But it seems you’re going somewhere?” “Yes,” replied Bunny. “I’m going to the market before the heat becomes unbearable. Once it gets hotter, I won’t be able to step outside.” “That’s true,” said Mr. Mouse, wiping the sweat from his forehead. “It’s scorching today! Say, shall I come along?” “Of course!” Bunny replied joyfully. “The more, the merrier!” And so, the two friends set off together — Bunny hopping merrily and Mr. Mouse scurrying quickly beside him, sometimes running, sometimes jumping to keep up. They hadn’t gone far when they heard another soft voice call out, “Brother Bunny! Greetings! Mr. Mouse, greetings too!” The two friends stopped and looked around. The voice seemed to come from right beneath their feet! “Where are you?” Bunny asked. “Here!” said the voice again. They looked carefully in the tall grass and spotted a tiny, bright red bird. His feathers glowed like a ruby. Everyone in the forest called him Red, simply because of his color. “Well, well, Brother Red!” Bunny said. “You’ve found yourself a nice shady spot.” “Yes,” chirped Red. “I was resting here for a while. The heat was too much to bear.” “You’re right,” Bunny agreed. “It’s really a burning day!” “Where are you both going?” Red asked, fluttering his wings. “To the market,” said Bunny. “We need to buy some groceries before the heat grows worse.” “Oh, how nice!” said Red. “I’m going that way too. May I join you?” “Of course!” Bunny replied with a big smile. “Two is good, but three is even better!” And so the three friends — Bunny hopping, Mr. Mouse trotting, and Red fluttering — moved happily toward the market. As they neared the edge of the forest, they saw Brother Deer standing by the path. “Hello there, friends!” Deer called out. “Where are you all off to in this blazing sun?” “To the market,” Bunny said. “We want to finish shopping before the heat gets worse.” “What a clever idea!” said Deer. “Mind if I join you?” “Not at all,” said Bunny. “Come along!” Now there were four of them — hopping, running, flying, and walking together. Soon, they reached the market. Bunny bought some fresh green vegetables, lemons, and sugar. Mr. Mouse bought fruits and grains. Brother Deer bought dry fruits and a little hay for himself. Red picked up a few berries and some seeds. Just as they stepped out of the shop, a loud crack echoed in the sky. “That was thunder!” said Bunny, looking up. The bright sky had turned dark with heavy black clouds. Lightning flashed, and the sound of thunder rolled through the forest. “It’s going to rain soon,” said Mr. Mouse nervously. “Quick, climb up!” said Brother Deer, kneeling down. “Get on my back, all of you. I’ll take you home before the storm begins.” At that moment, large raindrops began to fall — first slowly, then faster. Bunny, Mr. Mouse, and Red quickly climbed onto Deer’s back. Deer galloped through the forest, splashing through puddles, while Red flapped his wings to steady himself in the wind. By the time they reached Bunny’s burrow, the rain was pouring down heavily. But everyone was safe and dry. They laughed together and thanked Brother Deer for his kindness. Bunny shared some of his vegetables, Mr. Mouse offered a few fruits, and Red chirped a cheerful song as they enjoyed the cozy shelter under Bunny’s tree. From that day on, the four friends promised that no matter what happened — rain or shine — they would always help one another. Because in the end, helping others always brings happiness to everyone. --- Moral of the Story: True friends stand by each other — in sunshine or in storm.
By Khan 11 months ago in Fiction
I had a Dream....
I had a dream, and in this dream, I was much older. Me and a few friends were sitting around sharing our various memories of the past and comparing it with present of our older selves. We realized how things really did stay the same from how one dressed to the vocabulary that one spoke. We gathered at various venues along with others to share current events and even to answer questions for the younger generations. I guess in the future I will be a teacher of sorts. We realized that we as elders were still of some value too.
By Mark Graham11 months ago in Fiction
Everything Will Be Alright. Top Story - October 2025.
It was difficult to go back into that room. My son had passed three Halloweens ago and I kept his room shut since then. But I had to. To put his things away for now at least. Thank goodness he has no pets in his room. No goldfish or other such animals that would require my rescue. That would have been…that wouldn’t have been easy.
By Raphael Fontenelle11 months ago in Fiction
The Bear in the Big Blue Box
I could see it. There it was in the middle of the room. “What is it?” Bobby asked. “It’s a box. A blue box.” “What’s in it?”
By David E. Perry11 months ago in Fiction
The Two Twin Williams
The Two Twin Williams The night their mother died, the wind carried no song. The house stood still beneath the weight of sorrow. A candle flickered beside her bed as the midwife whispered prayers. One child cried in his Mothers arms, strong and fierce, the other weaker, silent as the grave she would soon fill. The nurse lifted the quiet one, wrapped him in cloth, and looked to the woman who was slipping away. She will not live till dawn, the midwife said. The nurse nodded once, then vanished into the cold with the child. No one saw her leave, no one asked why. By morning, only one boy lay beside the mother’s still hands. They named him William and buried her beneath the cypress tree. The other child was carried far into the dust to grow among strangers and silence, his name whispered only in dreams.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 11 months ago in Fiction
Fostering Doubts
Author's Preamble: As noted above, this is my 22nd rejection, in my ongoing attempt to win something or have something published outside of Vocal. The following story was written for the 2025 Ligonier Valley Writers' Flash Fiction Contest. The prompt was simply, AI/robots, the light or dark side. 1000 words or less.
By Paul Stewart11 months ago in Fiction
The Shadows of Greenhall
_Part One: The Dance of Light and Shadows in Greenhall_ The autumn air of the outskirts carried the scent of damp earth and fallen yellow leaves, caressing the tall windows of Greenhall Manor. Its stone walls, once adorned with the grandeur of carved stones and vibrant paintings, now bore cracks and faded colors, whispering a silent tale of years steeped in solitude. Amid this heavy stillness sat Liovna, her golden hair shimmering like silk threads in the candlelight. Her white dress, with its delicate lace trim and voluminous sleeves, seemed to have stepped out of a distant dream into this cold room. The simple gold necklace at her throat—her only memento from her mother—trembled faintly with each breath. Beside her lounged Oliver, her young husband, his dark hair and gray eyes holding an unspoken story of their own. A physician by trade, he healed lives with his gentle hands, yet his pockets remained empty of wealth and a home of his own. Their marriage, just two months past, had been sealed in the small village church, the bells ringing through the autumn breeze. Liovna still heard the echo of his romantic vows: “You are the only home I’ve ever sought, Liovna.” She had smiled, her heart warming, and replied, “And you, Oliver, are the light of my life.” Yet Greenhall, the manor inherited from Liovna’s grandmother and now their refuge, bore no resemblance to a warm haven. Its walls were encircled by thorny vines, and its tall, stained-glass windows—cracked and dulled—seemed like watchful eyes peering into the past. As a child, Liovna had visited this place, but always felt an inexplicable pull, a shadow in her chest that kept her at a distance. Now, with Oliver by her side, she resolved to transform it into a home for their love—even if each night brought the faint sound of unseen footsteps echoing through the corridors. This evening, Liovna had retrieved an ancient book from the weathered wooden shelf. Its red cover, etched with faded gold lines, seemed to guard a secret. This tome, a relic from her enigmatic grandmother who never spoke of her past, now rested in her hands. As she turned the pages, the scent of old paper and ink filled her senses. Suddenly, a yellowed letter slipped from between them, fluttering to the floor. Her hands, still warm from Oliver’s touch, trembled as she picked it up. The shaky script of her grandmother’s hand read: “Liovna, my dear, my love for Robert led me to this fate. Beware, for Greenhall may call to you as well. Keep this secret, but know that the shadows are ever near.” Her heart raced. Who was Robert? A name that seemed carved from the depths of history. Her gaze shifted to Oliver, engrossed in his notebook, oblivious to her turmoil. Should she tell him? Before she could decide, the candle beside her flickered. A cold breeze, as if seeping through the sealed windows, swirled around her. She lifted her head and stared at the wall; a dark shadow, resembling a woman in a flowing gown, danced across it. Her breath caught in her throat. When she looked again, the shadow was gone, but the sensation of a presence lingered in the air. Oliver glanced up, his warm smile breaking the tension. “Liovna, why so troubled?” She forced a smile and tucked the letter beneath the book. “Just thinking of Grandmother,” she said, her voice unsteady. He rose, sat beside her, and took her hand. The warmth of his touch, as always, soothed her. “We’ll build a new life here,”he said. “Greenhall, with all its shadows, will soon be our home.” But Liovna knew the shadows—tied to that letter and the name that pierced her heart like a dagger—would not release them so easily. As night fell and Oliver drifted to sleep, she reopened the book. This time, the pages seemed to whisper to her. Faint images of a woman with sorrowful eyes flickered in her mind—perhaps the very woman her grandmother had hinted at. Liovna resolved to uncover the truth, even if it cost her the peace she so desperately sought. Greenhall, with every breath it took, drew her deeper into a past that still lived.
By Vafa Abbasi11 months ago in Fiction
Knight & Day. Honorable Mention in Parallel Lives Challenge.
Roger had a very happy childhood. He was the youngest of four children, all children of Carl and Betty Knight. Sasha was only ten months older than him. She had been born prematurely but never let her smaller stature stop her from reaching her goals. Tommy was three years older than him and was believed to be the most athletic. Jackie, five years older, was considered the smartest — that is, until Roger came along. Don’t get me wrong. All four were very brilliant. Roger just seemed to catch on to things quicker than his older siblings.
By David E. Perry11 months ago in Fiction
Sister Light, Sister Dark
My sister was getting the party again. Best of everything. Sweet sixteen, right? New phone, new computer, even a fucking brand new car. Her choice of flavor for the cake, no matter that I was allergic to it. Money lined up in all those fancy envelopes from all the relatives.
By Meredith Harmon11 months ago in Fiction
The Bells of Black Street
The Bells of Black Street The year was 1832, and the city stank of death. A damp fog rolled in before dawn, thick as wool, curling around chimneys and spilling through the alleys. Beneath it, the cobbled streets glistened with grime, the gutters overflowed, and the air hung heavy with fear. Mothers pressed cloth to their children’s faces, fathers went to work with trembling hands, and everyone whispered the same word that made even the strong turn pale — plague.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 11 months ago in Fiction