Satire
The Singing Stone.
In a picturesque village nestled between rolling hills and dense, mystical forests, the townsfolk whispered tales of an ancient legend—a legend that spoke of a magical artifact known as the Singing Stone. This stone, hidden deep within the heart of the enchanted forest that bordered their village, was rumored to possess an extraordinary power: it could sing, and in its haunting melody, it would reveal the long-lost locations of hidden treasures.
By Yussuf Haret Mohamed.3 years ago in Fiction
Undulating
saw his dark smiling silhouette and was hooked. What seized my attention was his rich laughter, he was hurling cartons of beer from the boot of a 505 Peugot car, I was awed by the camaraderie two young adults shared. While he continued the spate, I placed my orders, hung around longer than necessary, stealing glances at him, hoping to be noticed.
By Ann Emecheta3 years ago in Fiction
Veronica Ganz (Retold)
New York. Early 1940s. Many of the kids in there preferred to play indoors, since they are afraid of what was outside that could catch them. No, it wasn't any stranger or a mad dog or something. Worse than that, it was the child who put fear on everyone else around the block.
By Kylecovey Smith3 years ago in Fiction
The Existential Woman (p34)
It took about an hour for Shanna to set up her tents. She had two, one for sleeping and one for lounging. The sleeping tent was meant to be a storage tent. It stood taller than her, which she liked for standing up in, and it was arched on the top. To put that tent together and up it takes a lot of patience. She put it up slowly and carefully, drinking as much water as she could in the heat to keep her cool and focused.
By Shanon Angermeyer Norman3 years ago in Fiction
Whispers into Madness . Content Warning.
The morning sun streamed through my bedroom window, yet its warm glow brought little comfort. Another sleepless night had left my mind clouded as I stared blankly at the ceiling. I knew what waited for me beyond these walls—the piercing stares, hushed whispers that followed wherever I walked. Like ghosts they haunted me, echoing fragments of conversations I wasn't meant to hear.
By Atugwu Racheal3 years ago in Fiction
Boombox
It was all Michael’s fault. After three weeks of dating, he really wanted to do something special for Sara. There were flowers (white roses; a favourite she mentioned in passing), candy (little Coke bottles; he liked them, too), and a dinner (home cooked when his parents were out and he finally learned how to make his own bread). It was all perfect; Sara told him so. And then, his first big mistake that felt like the perfect ending.
By Kendall Defoe 3 years ago in Fiction
The Horrifying Moniker. Top Story - September 2023. Content Warning.
"Rhea? That's a pretty name!" "Gee, thanks May!" "You wanna know a secret?" asked May. "Sure!" "May isn't my full name. It's just what I tell people to call me." "Oh, is it like short for Mabel or Maisy?" May snorted, "No, silly ! It's short for Mayonnaise!" "Your name is Mayonnaise ?" Rhea raised an eyebrow. "I swear!" "Must be nice having that name." "Embarrassing is more like it! People always make fun of my name!" "At least your name isn't scary like mine. People get so terrified when they learn what Rhea short is for. I will never forget the looks of horror on their faces." confessed Rhea. "Oh come on, now you have to tell me your full name!" "No way! I'm not gonna lose the only friend I've made, that too on the first day of camp!" "Don't be silly! Now come on, tell me your scary name already!" Rhea was very reluctant, but somehow she managed to get it out. "What? Speak up, I can't hear you!" Rhea closed her eyes for a moment before blurting out. "MY NAME IS DIARRHEA!"
By Dharrsheena Raja Segarran3 years ago in Fiction
