Holiday

I Sat in the Driver's Seat of a Car I Was Never Supposed to Touch
You are not supposed to be here. You know this before you touch the door. The sign on the chain-link fence says NO ENTRY. AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. But the gate hangs open six inches, just wide enough to suggest permission if you are the kind of person who needs permission to be suggested.
By Jina day ago in Fiction
Changing roles through AI: When a beach picture flips the perspective
The scene on the picture is at first look very simple, but visually shocking. A woman is lying in her bikinis on a beach bed near a luxury pool, she is sunbathing, laughing and enjoying a hot summer day. Next to her stands a man. He is covered from head to toe in a thick black niqab, and you can see only his eyes.
By Lenka Čihařová2 days ago in Fiction
Her boyfriend disappeared. The hospital still refused to give her her baby's birth certificate.
Father missing: where the birth certificate gets stuck In February 2025, Ms. Zhang gave birth to a baby boy at a hospital in Liuzhou. When she filled out admission paperwork, she listed her boyfriend, Mr. Zhu, as the father. Mr. Zhu then disappeared. Ms. Zhang could not reach him by phone. He did not answer WeChat messages. She could not find him. She could not get his ID.
By Jin3 days ago in Fiction
The Pumpkin Patch
Who remembers going to a pumpkin patch to find a great pumpkin? Not the one Linus is hoping for. This pumpkin patch is one place of many stories of memories of fun and family. One would get in the car, and it seems for miles but really is not that far. We hopped out of the car and just started running for we knew that sometimes there would be treats hidden around these pumpkins just like those Easter egg hunts in the Spring, but at times the farmer would only have selected few and just settle for the perfect pumpkin.
By Mark Graham7 days ago in Fiction
The Christmas Squatter
Thursdays were my group therapy days. There was always a small amount of dread, though it did help. Here I was again, sitting in the same tan chairs I used to sit in at church.
By Bentlee Hatch10 days ago in Fiction
LHS Origins
In the summer of 1988, Montreal was alive with color and sound. The air was thick with the scent of fresh bagels from St. Viateur, mingling with the sweet aroma of maple syrup wafting through the open windows. Megan darted down Rue Saint-Denis like a firefly caught in a warm breeze, her laughter echoing off cobblestones that had seen generations walk by.
By Forest Green10 days ago in Fiction
LHS Origins
In the summer of 1988, five-year-old Megan sat crammed between her older brother, Jake, and their mother in the backseat of their blue Chevy station wagon. The engine hummed steadily as they drove through the lush landscapes of Vermont, heading toward Montreal. Outside the window, fields of corn swayed like a golden ocean beneath a cloud-dappled sky. It was a world alive with possibilities.
By Forest Green10 days ago in Fiction
the gift. Top Story - September 2026.
The third one arrived on the summer solstice, cocooned in shades of evergreen and holly. The scent of pine clung to its crisp folds with ink the shade of ripened cranberries sprawled across the muted expanse spelling 'Mrs. Aribella Niccoli' in swirling loops of elegant script. Her hands shook as she traced the familiar writing.
By Heather Hubler10 days ago in Fiction
Christmas in July
My father is a mighty man, and mighty men have mighty friends. My dad had lots of mighty little friends. I remember, when I was only five, staring at his friends and thinking, “This friend is really tall with big hands, but this friend is very small with little hands.” His tiny friends came over every day without a single day off. His big friends, however, would only come two days a week. My father would open the door, greet them, and lead them out to the shop. Some days, when I wanted my father to take me to the park, the little friends would work on their own all day in the shop.
By Hailey M10 days ago in Fiction
Hippity-Hoppity-Boom
I don’t know what I expected to happen this morning when I got out of bed, but it sure wasn’t what happened. Let me clarify that. It was Independence Day. I was prepared for the normal parades, fireworks, and celebrating. The way the day would unfold was a complete shock to me, though. Really, any day is a surprise for any of us.
By Mother Combs10 days ago in Fiction
The Sleigh That Became a Boat. Top Story - September 2026.
In 2030, rising temperatures finished melting the polar ice caps. Santa Claus was displaced, along with the penguins, polar bears, and other species that call the North Pole home.
By Leslie Writes10 days ago in Fiction
Merry and Bright
“Did you find everything you need today?” “Yes, thanks.” The cashier forced a cordial smile, but Annabelle could feel the annoyance as the woman put her fan aside to ring her up. Shopping wasn’t high on people’s list of things to do on a day like this, and she felt like she was disrupting the thrift store’s peace just being there.
By Phar West Nagle10 days ago in Fiction