Short Story

Butter
It was late June in upstate New York. The school year had just ended, and the farm was glazed with sparkling drops of dew as the sun rose into the clear morning sky.
By Maddy Newt6 months ago in Fiction
A scintilla of hope
I felt the frigid shards sear into my flesh the second I opened the door. The cold was vicious, the wind bitter. Snow was still falling, its intensity somewhat abated since the morning's fall.
By Marie McGrath6 months ago in Fiction
The Door
When the door appeared in the hallway by my bedroom, no one noticed it at first. Us all being too busy with our own lives, rushing past one more closed door that matched all the others didn’t give us any pause at all. Eventually though, the half glances and double takes started to linger in even our already full minds.
By Annie Valenti6 months ago in Fiction
Conversation
Why do you always come? Because I feel like it. Why do you feel like it? Because I feel like it. But why do you feel like it?
By John Scipio6 months ago in Fiction
Terminus. Winner in Something Is Beginning, I Think Challenge.
The crisp April air bites like it has teeth and a vendetta, the sun rises as my feet hit the pavement in a steady rhythm, the burn is building in my lungs, and the sky is righteous and clear in every direction. Silence and stillness all around me, the world sliding by like a painting; this is the best way to start any morning. Neon signs dominate the once suburban skyline,
By S. A. Crawford6 months ago in Fiction
A Silence Heavier Than the Sky
What happens when humanity no longer needs God? The sky is still there… but no one is looking up. Angels fall silent. Machines begin to think.
By Ebrahim Parsa6 months ago in Fiction
Turquoise Clouds in a Green Sky. Runner-Up in Something Is Beginning, I Think Challenge. Top Story - March 2026.
“I always remember the first time I saw the green sky and the turquoise clouds skating across it.” These words had stayed with Alice Barrett for two years. She’d been six- years-old and snuggled next to her great-grandmother, known to nearly all the family as Granny Rose, on a large, rather uncomfortable armchair. Granny Rose had been telling her a story, at least that’s what Alice believed, but it was a strange memory, blurry apart from those few words.
By Matthew Batham6 months ago in Fiction
America the Beautiful . Runner-Up in Something Is Beginning, I Think Challenge.
The Quaker Meeting House had sat empty since Reconstitutionalization three years prior. An unkempt, overgrown lawn and increasingly feral flowerbeds surrounded the small, white-walled building, which, with its quaintly shingled sides now flaking, and picturesque little stone chimney graffitied, was slowly being swallowed by the forest it abutted. Even in its current, uncared for state, it bothered Jack to see Todd and his friends throwing rocks through the windows. He always lingered after school so as to avoid walking home in the presence of the older boys. Usually, he had the wherewithal to keep an eye open ahead for them as he walked, but had been distracted by issues with his favorite music channels and had not seen them standing in the knee-deep grass. He’d been too busy trying to figure out why many of his favorite songs seemed suddenly unavailable on any streaming service.
By J. Otis Haas6 months ago in Fiction
Fear Controlled Me for Years — Until That Day. AI-Generated.
I didn’t know when fear first moved in. It didn’t arrive like a storm. There was no dramatic entrance, no single moment I could point to and say, that’s when it began. It came quietly—like a draft through a window you forgot to close.
By Peter6 months ago in Fiction
I Stopped Waiting for Opportunity — I Started Creating It. AI-Generated.
I used to believe in timing. Not in the mystical, poetic way people write about in books, but in the practical, almost superstitious way that keeps you still. I believed the right moment would come, like a train pulling into a station—predictable, inevitable, meant for me.
By Peter6 months ago in Fiction
Circles
She thumbed through the yearbook until she found his face. Circling it with a red sharpie, she remembered a time she’d do the same to her friends, her crushes. Harmless pre-summer fun.
By Matthew J. Fromm6 months ago in Fiction
A Grave Concern
It was a Tuesday afternoon. The clock on the microwave read twelve o’clock. Outside, the clouds were darker than usual, and while there was no scorching sun that day, nor had the precipitation yet begun, there was still enough humidity to leave any person that wandered outside drenched in sweat.
By Jebus! 6 months ago in Fiction