Humor
Stitch. Out of Season
After four weeks of trying to stitch herself back into a life she barely remembered, Sara Foxgrave starts to realize that whatever followed her home isn’t done with her. Maine is supposed to be safe. Normal. Predictable. But when a summer flower blooms in the dead of October, Sara learns that reality has no intention of staying in its lane.
By Syl De'Vil15 days ago in Fiction
Summerween...What?
Alright, so this piece is inspired by the following writing prompt: Write a story about something appearing, happening, or returning at exactly the wrong time of year. Interesting topic, but I have something fun in mind. Might be a tad... odd though. Well, you asked for it! Please enjoy,
By Rain Dayze16 days ago in Fiction
Seasonal Tastes
“Yes, I know, Mom. You won’t buy fruit out of season. So, we can’t buy peaches in November because they are imported. You have said it a thousand times. But, just so you know, I do have a taste for peach cobbler. Ripe, juicy peaches with crumbles on top. Or even peach pie. Maybe we can get a frozen peach pie.” She shook her head in disgust, clearly thinking I had not learned from her lecturing -what she called advice - through the years.
By Andrea Corwin 16 days ago in Fiction
When Red Velvet is Your Weakness
You were hungry. Honestly starving. And your stomach’s cries were getting worse by the second. Now, this could be easily remedied by finishing up your leftovers back at home. The Italian sausage pasta you made a couple of days ago was still good. You were sure of it. But you didn’t want any tonight. For whatever reason, you were just not in the mood. Now, usually when you felt this way about leftovers, you would grab some emergency hot dogs from the freezer and treat yourself to that.
By Rebecca Patton17 days ago in Fiction
basil & honey
The overdraft alert comes in while you’re pulling your espresso shot and you laugh—out loud, like a tired, old bitch, except you’re thirty-three, laughing alone in your kitchen—because you’re negative fifty-three dollars, and because you already know you’ll transfer money from the savings account you said you wouldn’t touch, and because some part of you finds humor in your hardship. It’ll work itself out , you think, and you don’t notice, not yet, that the sentence isn’t yours. You borrowed it years ago from a woman standing in a kitchen very much like this one, and you’ve been making the monthly payments on it ever since without knowing there was a debt to pay.
By tatiana vitas18 days ago in Fiction
Season of the Out. Content Warning.
Priscilla always thought adulthood would eventually calm down. Maybe not peaceful, but at least predictable. Instead, her life had turned into a year‑round carnival run by raccoons, children, and whatever cosmic intern was in charge of her fate.
By Syl De'Vil19 days ago in Fiction
