Short Story

The sliding doors . Content Warning.
The Sliding Doors The Sliding Doors I still remember standing before the sliding glass doors at my school entrance when I was thirteen. I watched them open and close repeatedly, my eyes flicking between the motion sensor and the camera above, waiting for someone to walk through. My thoughts felt strangely cold and detached.
By Donna K29 days ago in Fiction
Cameo to the Moon. Content Warning.
The wind whistled between the trees, a quiet rasp like the stillness in thought when you hold your breath too long—until the air burns your lungs and the world around you scorches your eyes red. Jane felt that same panic pressing in, as if the trees themselves were holding their breath, and with theirs, hers was trapped inside her body as well.
By Donna K29 days ago in Fiction
Last Call
Maya watches the bartender's eyes find hers across the room. He doesn't ring a bell. He never has, not once in the four months she's been coming here. He just looks, and starts wiping down the taps.
By Phil Henderson29 days ago in Fiction
Julie's Exit
Drowning her sorrows seemed like a good idea at the time. “Do ya want something else, miss?” “No thanks, I’ll stick with the gin and tonic. One more please.” Julie had been sitting at the bar for almost two hours trying to figure out what to do. She was getting a little drunk but didn’t want to go home. Mason might be there and she had no interest in seeing him right now.
By Barbara Gode Wiles29 days ago in Fiction
The Forever Candidate
The first interview was on Zoom. The second interview was also on Zoom, but with everyone’s camera off “for culture reasons.” By the third interview, the recruiter stopped using dates and started saying things like, “Next cycle.”
By Lucy Guo29 days ago in Fiction
The Legend Behind Augusta's Spring. Top Story - August 2026.
Come with me, out on a hike along Balston’s Creek Down a narrow deer trail running directly parallel Climbing treefalls, rounding mighty grey boulders
By Mother Combs29 days ago in Fiction
The Last Sap of Jerusalem
It’s a bit of a strange thing, the life of a sapper. You crawl under the earth, laying your plans in the dark, while above, the world rages on — arrows flying, stones crashing, men shouting, and the gods themselves seeming to laugh at the mess we’ve made of their perfect world. My name, by the way, is Gaius Vitellius. I’m a sapper in the Roman legions, and this is the story of how I helped take Jerusalem.
By Jesse Shelleyabout a month ago in Fiction
The Misguided Lover
October, Anno DCCXIV Ab Urbe Condita (A.U.C.) October, 30 BCE The scent of jasmine lingered in the air, mingling with the salt breeze drifting in from the Mediterranean. In Alexandria, the palace stood shimmering beneath the late sun — a monument to excess and decadence that belied the desperation that had settled in its golden halls.
By Jesse Shelleyabout a month ago in Fiction
The Curious Incident at the Border Farm
XII Septemberis, Anno LII a.C.n. September 12, 52 BCE The order had come in at dawn, the kind that made every soldier groan — a detachment to investigate some trivial incident at the very fringe of Roman civilization. A handful of soldiers from the Twelfth Legion had been assigned, none too pleased to be sent traipsing through the backwoods of the empire to handle what they assumed was a squabble between farmers. Marcus Fabius, ever the reluctant hero, found himself among them, along with three others: Lucius, Decimus, and Quintus. Together they trudged along the dirt path that led from the town’s outpost, through rocky fields and scrub, to a tiny cluster of dilapidated farms huddled on the empire’s edge.
By Jesse Shelleyabout a month ago in Fiction
The Dictator's Sons
With all apologies to the Grimm Brothers... I Once upon a time (and once too many), a tyrannical dictator was given the news he dreaded. His doctors, who once told him that he was the healthiest man alive, had pronounced that he only had a few days left. After dispatching his doctors to the wall for execution for being honest about his condition, the dying dictator came to realize that his legacy had to continue in one form or another.
By Dean Traylorabout a month ago in Fiction
Lover's Gold
It was a beautiful saturday. The sun painted the fields in gold as we stood there hand in hand, smiling at each other. This was the only day we had to ourselves since we met three weeks ago, and I was determined to make the most of my time with you.
By Carol Ann Townendabout a month ago in Fiction
Ego Sum Pt. 2
Read Part 1 Here The man arose the next day, starting the morning by taking a deep breath as his feet swung over the side of his mattress, firmly planting them on the wood below. The first thing he noticed was that his alarm had not gone off. The world outside was already basking in sunlight, despite the clock reading 5:55 A.M. The number flashed before him, a fiery red colour.
By caitodoesstuffabout a month ago in Fiction