Humor
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 Easter Rarebit. Top Story - September 2026.
For some context, watch this: The first thing to note was the temperature. For a rabbit, this was a strange sensation. With all of his fur and energy, he should be just fine with this type of weather. But there was the bigger problem of knowing too much about what time of year it should be.
By Kendall Defoe 10 days ago in Fiction
'Ween
Candice finally had the place to herself. She'd been craving time alone by the pool since the final bell of the school year. True privacy was a luxury in short supply in a house with three hyperactive little brothers and two tightly-wound parents pulling Candice in a dozen directions on any given day. June was already over, and the July heat was just beginning to settle in. Candice lazily plopped into a chair and popped open a Dr Pepper Cherry from her secret stash. A few days ago the yard was packed and noisy for a Fourth of July party. (Of course their house was the party house; they had the pool.) But now, it was mercifully silent.
By Rebekah Conard10 days ago in Fiction
A Wee Bit o' Trouble. Top Story - September 2026.
Saturday, December 20, 2025 The first sign of disturbance was when Rudolph's nose was hacked off. There he was in our front yard, leading Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner, and Blitzen - minus his bright, red sniffer. My husband grumbled, "Kids these days! They have no respect for anyone's property."
By Julie Lacksonen10 days ago in Fiction
Wrong Season. Right Drama 🎭
Autumnal season🍂 and its festivities give an inner satisfaction by the way they are presented to the mind. One has to be careful about perceiving the sublime nature of this season, imparting its own unique and peculiar profoundness. To me, this season beholds a sort of internal expansion, raising the mind above its ordinary state. Come September, everything suddenly changes. Boundless views of the nature start exhibiting a sort of elevation while simultaneously, it also sets the stage for serious contemplation. Believe it not, I become dramatic critic while filling this time of the year with two contrasting celebrations—Halloween 👻 and Dusherra ( Hindu festival.) One moment it’s this and the next it’s another. And yet in that I feel illusory. Living abroad, both these festivals have gotten strewn across my field of vision, quite strangely. And, every year, the empath in me, rolls into the concomitant cultural medley as though to serve the lost and found in me. From India to USA, like a stork dropping, these days, I am doublethinking before ardently celebrating Halloween and Dusherra back to back. Why I betake myself so comes to this. No sooner does Halloween salutes and passes me by I fall foul into the Dusherra season. It’s like being dismounted from the rogue procession and immediately sent to a heavenly abode. I mean whatever that c’d be done to gain consanguinity with the sublime nature of the godly festivities. In ways both are making me turn inwards simultaneously to something that goes beyond time. So whipped to be over run by the fearful happy effect of the beastly Halloween 🎃 , I feel obliged to keep a strict guard over my prayer recitations during Dusherra mantraa chantings— more so, becoz I see the reason of everything that is to be said and done in order to purge the tyrannical spirits stamping to mark their lofty effects upon my mind. More telling of the incidents during this period is the rigorous co-literal damage that comes in a weird sort of togetherness, bringing a co-lateral sense, “to life. In naming that feel it’s like a sort of strive and strife cajolery. At times sandwiched between these two contrasting celebrations gives me an overwhelming sense of wonder. Literally, it’s like electrocuted but grateful to be alive! Most importantly, the moment I realize that there’s no control over what happens outside I quickly start seeking bittersweet relief by switching into incantations. I mean , rather peculiarly, these festivities come down at me like a charging full force of a bull dozer with fleeting sweeps of holiness. It’s like one moment sinking abruptly into the darkly shadows of the graveyards, and the next soaked in the light of ascension. Of that course which , at times, makes it incomprehensible to my mind. As an immigrant who is neither a forced patriot nor a fierce foreigner, I indulge in these intolerable habits which take a different twist during September. So in trying to preserve good ole’ traditions of the West and the East I do indulge in deeds that c’d come off as weird to the eyes of the “ either and or,” types of staunch beliefs. Basically seeming like a beholder of neither and nor grief. It’s like the whole season starts with a deep solitude and quite inadvertently, ends up being mysteriously brute. The dogged truth telling behind such a season is the obscurity hidden around the corner and justifiably its countenance imbuing a strange kind of predicament. Upon the face of such wildernesses surrounding the ambiance —Dusherra glory prances boldly to meet its counterpart as if to literally crossing the seven seas for thankful retreat. Hereupon the lingering “holy,” becomes a quiver rattle. You know I mean — do you?! All this is accompanied by the contrasting Halloween apprehension that lurks somewhere in the dark like a shadow pointing towards the inevitable end. The mind somehow combines that ☝️ one phenomena to a remarkable extent. Highlighting feature: Combining everything as a cohesive whole, resulting in an admixture of both awe and astonishment. For me, the emotions get heightened, filling my heart with joy, delight while a bit of contemplative melancholy slips in between, as if, to propel my mind towards restive hibernation. Hopelessly I expressed this phenomena well. Hopefully 🤞 you will bear me positive favors. Mind it, still and as strikingly perfect as I c’d be, this ain’t lethal lethargy in action! Coming under the purview of purer reasons, some festivities are specifically taken in relation to their inner meanings. In that sense each season, festival and event has a peculiar impact which at times means venturing to strain and stress through its scurrilousness. For if it is a vermin creeper or a flea, one better break its siege over you than go farther down its rabbit 🐇 hole 🕳️ Be -aware ! The closest imagery to all that ☝️ is like: Kamala, our mother, instructs us to decorate the temple for the Dusherra festival. Suddenly, Kintsugi, the embodiment of Rama-Ravana , appears from deathly hallows. Haunted so, we feel like kamikaze survivors. This puts us on an edge and we end up —frantically lighting incense sticks in front of effigies of Lord Ravana ( demon 😈 king 🤴) And the chasing chants end up sounding like Michael Jackson’s Thriller. Wrong season. Right Drama ! 🎭 Happy Hallow-Dussehra everyone! 👻🕉️ 😱
By Madhu Goteti 11 days ago in Fiction
Summer of Saint Nicholas
The sleigh landed smoothly onto the roof. The soft sound of bells rang out as a dozen reindeer came to a halt. A large, fur-lined black boot stepped out onto the roof. The owner of the boot quickly followed. Father Christmas, Jolly Old Saint Nick, stood fully upright.
By Matthew Smith11 days ago in Fiction
The Scarecrow Incident
Nobody in Ashveil Hollow liked talking about the scarecrow. —or at least that is what they told Sheriff Crowe when he would wander too close to a group gathering near the town flyer for the Harvest Social later this weekend. Actually, everyone had talked about it too much over the last year since it happened.
By Chel Writes11 days ago in Fiction
Blood Is Thicker Than Soap And Water
Blood Is Thicker Than Soap And Water The story you are about to read is a true story about my dad, George Hurst, and his sister, my Auntie Nellie. It happened when they were little, on what turned out to be one very bad day at school.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 11 days ago in Fiction
