Mystery
The Day The Angels Quit
The sky rained feathers the day the angels decided to quit. It wasn’t gradual, like a fading light or a whisper slipping into wind. It was sudden, vast, final. At 4:17 p.m. Zagreb time, the clouds opened — not with thunder, not with fire, but with a hush. A hush so deep it silenced traffic, halted footsteps, and left a little girl holding her mother’s hand at the tram station, blinking at the first white feather that drifted down onto her outstretched palm.
By Anna Soldenhoff12 months ago in Fiction
Every Shadow Lies
The rain had a rhythm that night — a slow, steady tapping against the windows of the Blackmoor Institute. It was the kind of rain that made secrets feel heavier, as if the sky itself was trying to drown them. Inside, the corridors were dimly lit, the lights flickering like dying stars. Dr. Elara Voss walked quickly, her heels echoing against the linoleum floor, each step like a countdown to something she couldn’t yet name.
By Miss Maryam12 months ago in Fiction
Secret Haven
Secret Haven Written by Ann Garza Climbing the stairs to what will be my office/library/escape from reality room, I feel each step getting heavier. I was supposed to have help from my family and friends, but at the last minute, they all had “this came up last minute” things, or as I like to say, more important to them things. The house was still new to me, and I had promised not to work on any repairs in the room without at least one person with me as I tend to be accident prone. But, since they all bailed on me, I decided to go back on my word and head up to that room with a vacuum and cleaning supplies. Once I was certain I had everything needed to at least tidy the room up some, I sat on the floor in the middle of the room so I could decide on new paint colors and if I wanted to keep the laminate flooring or replace it with something else. Something more comfortable like thick, soft and plush carpet to the match the new wall colors. I had a few ideas in mind, but I knew I needed to clean the room and the 2 walk-in closets to get a better idea.
By "Ann Garza"12 months ago in Fiction
The Willowbrook Home for Foundlings. Honorable Mention in Through the Keyhole Challenge.
Cecil pressed his eye against the pupil-sized hole in the wall as he hunched down in the shadows of the west hall at The Willowbrook Home for Foundlings, which had been his home for the past month or so.
By Aaron Morrison12 months ago in Fiction
“A Letter to Tomorrow”
A Letter to Tomorrow By [Ali Rehman] The night was still — one of those evenings when the silence felt like a mirror, forcing me to see myself clearly. The city hummed faintly outside my window, distant and disinterested. Inside, my desk lamp cast a small circle of light over a blank page. A cup of coffee sat beside it, half-finished and already cold. I stared at the page for what felt like hours, pen hovering, heart trembling with the weight of everything unsaid.
By Ali Rehman12 months ago in Fiction
“The Girl Who Painted Feelings”
The Girl Who Painted Feelings By [Ali Rehman] A story about art that reveals hidden truths They called her Lila, the girl with colors in her veins. She didn’t paint landscapes or portraits like the others in her art class — she painted emotions. Not the kind you could name easily — not joy, sorrow, or love — but the unnamed shades between them. The trembling feeling before goodbye. The ache of laughter that hides a tear. The silence between two people who used to know each other well.
By Ali Rehman12 months ago in Fiction
Through the cellar
Never before had he seen this door cracked open. Clark had always assumed the cracked rotting wooden door hiding in the back of the wine cellar led nowhere and was just there for decoration, it's what he had been told after all. When he'd first started just over a year back, he'd asked Jerry, his boss, about the oddly placed door and he'd said the whole time he'd been working here at The Hecate Inn it had been locked with no living memory of a key.
By Liam Storm12 months ago in Fiction
