Short Story
our windowsill
I felt a wave of nausea crash into me, as if I were a pebble on a shoreline. With my eyes cast downward, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze, I walked swiftly into the back room. Sally peered at me over her bifocals as I closed the door behind me, smoke wafting from the cigarette that dangled limply between her red-stained lips. I could feel her watching me over her crossword puzzle as I struggled not to dry heave.
By Molly Boozell3 years ago in Fiction
Confession Time
He’s typically not up this late. Pulling into the driveway, Chelsey pondered if he couldn’t make it to the bedroom again and would be found sprawled on the sofa. Except muffled music pounded the closed blinds like it instead of the breeze fluttering her wind chimes. If he didn’t have a terrible day, it would do wonders for her to arrive so close to moon light after the decision that she was not cooking tonight. Plus, Ben sat on the front porch in one of four chairs, putting out one smoke and holding another between two fingers without lighting it. Maybe he did have a hard day, she thought. He texted with thumbs on fire but tossed the phone on the table like the cheap tool that it was when he was done. She waved after making eye contact with him. He only nodded. Hood barely giving her eyebrows. She was surprised he knew she was standing before him. Went to kiss him on the head to the statuesque response of his refusal to look up, that it until she went for the door. Chelsey’s claim that there was a Scandals episode calling out for her he grabbed her arm. He had never been so rough before. It didn’t hurt but startled her to a life once lived that almost courted a harsh retaliation, but his grip was limp, even with a little caressing with his thumb. “Please sit; they’re almost here.”
By Willem Indigo3 years ago in Fiction
La Belle Fatale
The Belle stood proudly as they led her to the Beast’s chambers. She glanced around at the decrepit castle, with its mold-covered buttresses and draping spiderwebs. She wondered how long it had been since someone had been brought in to clean—and what kind of monster could live in these crumbling ruins.
By Stephanie Hoogstad3 years ago in Fiction
The Soft Side
This is my first attempt at a Romance story. In my Vocal goals for 2024 I stated I would write a Romance story. This is it, it's not a hot and steamy story. But it is a love story. Whether I succeeded or not I guess is up to those that read this.
By Rick Henry Christopher 3 years ago in Fiction
No Land Weeps for Thee. Top Story - February 2024.
The ice provides in this old land. Each morning, I sit on the porch I built overlooking the water. Today, icicles cling for dear life to the gutters while their friends, the snow mounds, hang on the white birch branches.
By Matthew J. Fromm3 years ago in Fiction
Levels
My feet grip the snow beneath them for only a moment before reaching untouched snow again. The air has its icy hands clasped around me, pulling me back as I try to spring forward. I trip and my knees feel the cushion of the cold snowy blanket beneath me. When fear kicks in, you think there is nothing more powerful, until the light in the distance taunts you with hope, and then you feel what real power is.
By Lucille Hamilton3 years ago in Fiction
Time Loop
In the bustling heart of the city, Dr. Nathan Carter, a brilliant physicist, stood before his invention—a sleek, metallic device pulsating with ethereal energy. It was his greatest creation: a time-traveling machine capable of bending the very fabric of reality. With a mix of excitement and trepidation, he activated the device, his hands trembling with anticipation.
By Syed Shahmeer3 years ago in Fiction
