Love
Holding Hands. Honorable Mention in You Had to Be There.
Ten-year-old Aiesha was so happy to go to school today. Today was the big day; she had been practicing all week. She stood in the mirror and was proud of what she saw. She smiled back at her reflection, knowing she would have the best-written story in her fifth-grade class. She imagined all the praise she would get from Mrs. Vandyke and the recommendation to speak at her upcoming graduation. This was better than last year’s story contest prize of twenty dollars, which she framed instead of spending.
By Saba Author of a Philly Love Story2 months ago in Fiction
You Had To Be There
An Independence Day Miracle I love to dance. Since I was a child, I danced a lot, even if there was no music. I could hear in my mind's ear. In Los Angeles, during high school, I was a street dancer as we competed against other street dancers. Since I was a gymnast, I could do flips when I danced.
By SAMURAI SAM: Wild Wayne2 months ago in Fiction
The Dark Sacred Night. Runner-Up in You Had to Be There. Top Story - July 2026.
The dying didn’t happen overnight. Nor the grieving after. In the first weeks, after she left me, I wouldn’t have even called it grief. How can you tether so much airless emptiness to something as binding as one brief word?
By Hannah Moore2 months ago in Fiction
The Song The Florescent Lights Sang
I remember the creaking of the old wooden stairs, each one greeting the tips of my toes as I crept down into the cool of the basement. Dark wooden walls framed the descent into a room that was filled with the magic of lost, drying arts. The fluorescent lights always flickered on with a wink before settling into a familiar hum that lulled lazily - a strange lullaby for a place so full of wonder. The air was scented with the rustic scents of metal and grease - a perfume of mechanics and hands that knew how to labor. Work benches lined the walls and were laid with an organized chaos of tools, rubber, cork, feathers, and dried deer tails - a mismatched craftsman’s rainbow.
By Ellie Hoovs2 months ago in Fiction
Past Love
I dreamt of her. I didn't want to, but I did. Some part of me deep down inside wanted to see her one last time. I woke in the shadows. The crowd escaping from the darkness behind me. The sepia light bent around corners making a bold but bland statement. I mostly knew people in the crowd, her family, our friends. Somehow some of my friends slipped in there.
By K.I. McLemore2 months ago in Fiction
After You. Runner-Up in You Had to Be There.
From the outside, two people climbed into the trunk of a car in a driveway and closed it from the inside. It was a new car, a blue Saturn coupe with a fancy key fob and a blown head gasket on day three of ownership. On day one of its post-repair life, she drove it to her ex-boyfriend's house to pick him up for their casual gym date.
By Nicky Frankly2 months ago in Fiction
Before Hell Had a Name: The Morning Star’s Bride
Before Hell had a name, Heaven had no shadow. There were depths beneath it, of course. There were outer darks where unfinished things moved without song. There were ancient hungers beyond the ordered light, things that hated form because form meant they were no longer free to be everything.
By Alejandro Arango2 months ago in Fiction
Lavender Girl
They sat on the dirt patches between the rows of blue and purple lavender. The English, Spanish, French, and Lavandin plants were grouped by type and planted in rows. I prefer the English type, but the girl seemed to gravitate toward the blooms of the rabbit-head Spanish lavender. Her hands gently swiped upward on the spikes as she giggled. Her mother tickled the girl’s nose with a piece; the girl exclaimed, “It smells so good, Mommy!” Pulling scissors from her pocket, she began cutting the stems, creating a small bouquet. When the girl spotted the pink lavender, she ran to the rows and sat behind the tallest plants, trying to hide.
By Andrea Corwin 2 months ago in Fiction
