Mystery
Small World
I don’t want to set the story’s tone by detailing the weather. I can’t stand the cliche of it. But winters in New York are so depressing. That angelic, fluffy, pristine snow lasts for about two days before it becomes a slushy, black mess. It’s December. Only six months to go until I’m back in Rhodes. Until I’m away from this wholesome life I’m supposed to call home. I’m craving something that will keep me up at night—someone who can look at me like I’m still worth undressing, remind my body it’s still alive. My husband is great in New York . But in Greece—I want nothing to do with my current life. I’ve asked myself what I’m missing here that I have to fly eight hours away to find it. It’s not about sex. It’s not about feeling free either, or pretending I’m twenty-something again. It’s more about being seen. Being understood. About someone knowing who I was before I became whatever this is that I am now. A stay-at-home wife—mother— bitch . My husband gets to keep his social life. So two weeks every July, I earned the privilege to fly to the island and leave everyone. It's a shame, though—how adventure can equate to such sadness.
By tatiana vitasa day 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'Vila day ago in Fiction
Storage Shed
You go to the shed for a table leaf. That’s it. That’s the entire mission. A simple retrieval operation. A three‑minute task. Something so basic it doesn’t even qualify as a chore. You’ve survived gate guard at 0300, CQ shifts that felt like psychological warfare, and the kind of family chaos that should earn hazard pay. A shed should not be a threat.
By Syl De'Vila day ago in Fiction
Aurelius Ascends. Top Story - September 2026.
Aurelius Ascends had spent the best part of fifteen years shifting from a single figment of a dream to a glossy digital image on a one-hundred-inch computer screen, eventually realized by SpaceCorp's head designer, Lisa Scanlon, and put on the drawing board.
By Jonathan Townend2 days ago in Fiction
Mordent's Lament (0.5)
Chapter Two Part I: The Morning Sully wakes up cold with the sunrise shining on his face. That's the first wrong thing, before he even opens his eyes—the specific, bone-deep cold of a body that's been alone for hours, not the warm weight of Madi curled against his side where she fell asleep. He sits up fast, the blanket sliding off him, and the second wrong thing hits him before his mind's even finished processing the first: the grove is empty. The truck bed is empty. The whole gray, fog-damp clearing is empty except for him.
By Matias Costa2 days ago in Fiction
Future Disguise
How does a dream that’s interpreted as a miracle become a nightmare in reality? A question that Ruemaq had in mind when his eyes shot wide open. His skin was extremely slippery and the bed allowed his body to crease itself into a puddle. Ruemaq rested his hand on his forehead. “What is up with the heat today?!”
By Devond Devoe2 days ago in Fiction
