Short Story

A Novel Story
Title: A Mockingbird's To Killing Writer: Harper Lee Plot Synopsis: "To Kill a Mockingbird" is a story about a little girl named Scout Finch's experiences growing up in the deeply racist Deep South. It is set in the fictional town of Maycomb, Alabama, in the 1930s.
By SUGANYA R3 years ago in Fiction
Larry. Top Story - February 2024.
L.C. Schäfer set a challenge and is sticking to it, as am I. You can read about it here: Prompt number thirty: Write a story set in an office. The picture is the prompt too in this instance.
By Rachel Deeming3 years ago in Fiction
The Last Ingredient
In the small, bustling town of Maplewood, nestled between golden hills and whispering rivers, there lived a grandmother named Eleanor. Her kitchen was the heart of her cozy home, a sanctuary filled with the aroma of simmering sauces, fresh herbs, and the sweet scent of baked goods. Eleanor's culinary prowess was no secret in Maplewood, but her most cherished creation was a simple, yet enigmatic, dish known as "Grandma Ellie's Casserole." It was a recipe she promised to share with her family one day, a recipe that held the essence of warmth, love, and togetherness.
By Zoe3 years ago in Fiction
Victoria's Mannequin
In the heart of the city, amidst the glittering lights and bustling streets, stood the exclusive boutique of the renowned clothing designer, Victoria Blackwell. Her creations were worn by the elite, and her name echoed through fashion circles like an enchanting melody. Yet, within the walls of her opulent studio, a chilling secret lurked.
By WanderingZombie3 years ago in Fiction
The Painted Forest
In the quiet town of Ravenswood, nestled between ancient woods and fog-covered hills, lived a young girl named Emily. Emily was known for her exceptional talent in painting. The hallways of her home were covered in many different places and subjects, some of them being recognizable by the townspeople. Her favorite subject at the time was a mysterious forest that lay on the outskirts of town, shrouded in legends and whispered tales. One day, Emily created a painting that was different from the rest - a hauntingly beautiful depiction of the very forest that inspired her.
By WanderingZombie3 years ago in Fiction
An Upward Journey
All started out fine, and I was living my goal. The ground was so large; even the small child was significant to me. My creator was just selling me to a little boy. The boy smiled so big when he saw me. His eyes glowed as he held me in his hand. Then, the little boy was distracted by an animal in the park. His hand had released me without warning. My mind fluttered as I started to rise. The little boy did not even notice that I was missing. No one really noticed at all as I was going further away. All I wanted to do was to give happiness and be carried around as an adventure. All was a unique way from my original dream.
By Sarah Danaher3 years ago in Fiction
The Lovely, White Wild
The snow fell in fluffy, white clumps, clinging to my sweats and watch cap as I ran. Departing the gate of the encampment, tanks rumbled past, fellow soldiers waving from their cupula's as I gestured back before turning from the road to a trail entering the surrounding woodland.
By John Cox3 years ago in Fiction
Opportunity Attacks
The cabin that Joyce and Dylan Rand were spending their vacation residing in was in a snow-covered atmosphere, but it was bliss to both of them. As Dylan returned to their vacation home, he again gushed over the setting and thanked his wife for choosing such an amazing place to celebrate their 30 years together. "I absolutely love this place," said Dylan. "Thanks so much for suggesting it." "It's the perfect place," replied Joyce. As the couple held hands, Dylan noticed that Joyce's right hand was bandaged. "What happened?" "Oh, it was just a scratch," chuckled Joyce. "Say, could you open the curtains for me?" "Sure, hon," Dylan replied as he walked towards the living room window and opened the curtains. A full moon appeared in the night sky, and while Dylan enjoyed the sight, Joyce removed the bandages from her right hand, which was suddenly clawed and covered with hair. Joyce sprouted more hair on her face, and gave a fang-filled sneer at her husband. "Beautiful, isn't it?" asked Dylan. "Yes," Joyce said with a sinister snarl, "absolutely perfect!" The villainous wolf woman lunged at Dylan and mauled him to death, fulfilling a murderous plot that began after she caught Dylan with another woman. Joyce was bitten by a wolf on that same day, and after her first transformation that night, she realized that she had the power to enact a vicious revenge against Dylan. "Happy anniversary," the evil Joyce snarled before unleashing a sadistic howl at the moon.
By Clyde E. Dawkins3 years ago in Fiction
Naive Nikola. Content Warning.
Nikola was tired of being Jackson’s fool. She was tired of believing his lies. She’d had enough. So, she planned on doing something about it.
By Mother Combs3 years ago in Fiction
Perception. Content Warning.
Gerald wasn't favored among the community, he was the man with no home or job. The man who would frequent the front of local stores such as Starbucks, holding a sign that said “Anything helps.” Most people would blow him off, casting nasty glares his way. Some even boldly shouting “Get a job filthy junkie!” But they didn't know Gerald's story like me. I first met him while he was outside my apartment one night. I asked how he was. He told me he was just trying to get some food for dinner before he headed home. I asked where he lived, and he said “The ol’ Barnes shack.” I offered to buy him some food, then take him home. During our meal Gerald told me how he was a veteran in the Vietnam war. He told me some horrible stuff that went on, and that he hadn't been the same since he got home. He was diagnosed with major PTSD. He was part of some government programs to help Vets, but that help only extended so far for someone as himself. So the streets had been home for him for many years now. After that, I made it a point to bring him a hot meal every Sunday night. It was a particularly cold winter this year, so I brought extra blankets too. Walking into the building I noticed snow everywhere from all the busted windows. I went to his spot, and started to cry. For there he lay, beautifully frozen in place.
By Tressa Rose3 years ago in Fiction
Snow Food Hunt: Who's the Hunter?
"Food, glorious food!" Zephyr the pheasant sang, eyeing plentiful seeds on the last year's tall grass. He landed on the pristine new snow, leaving beautiful wavy marks with his tail. "Whoops, didn't think it was this deep!"
By Lana V Lynx3 years ago in Fiction
Sugar
There’s a switch, at the edge of consciousness, that flicks on when one crosses it, like a lightbulb, or a bomb. A blinding whiteness of nothing.
By L Mincola3 years ago in Fiction