Short Story
The Library at the End of the World
The key doesn’t fit but the door opens anyway. It sighs through its hinges like it’s been waiting a long time. Dust hangs in the still air, soft as ash, turning gold where the light finds it. The sun looks wrong here, too tired to be real. The glow feels like an old photograph that’s been fading for years on a windowsill no one looks at anymore.
By Fatal Serendipity12 months ago in Fiction
Memory For Sale
The shop was called "Echoes," and it existed in the quiet, grimy space between a broken dream and a desperate need. Its proprietor, a man named Silas, was a memory broker. In a world saturated with sensation but starved for meaning, his was the most lucrative, and most tragic, trade.
By Habibullah12 months ago in Fiction
I Tested What Website Catfish Uses to Look Up Numbers and Images — Here’s What I Found
Disclosure: Some links in this article are services I’ve personally used. If you use them, I may earn a small commission at no extra cost. Recommendations are based on genuine experience.
By Newman Singer12 months ago in Fiction
Fate. Top Story - October 2025.
Despite seeing nearly five hundred years on its dusty dais, the meticulously crafted copy of Allgerion’s Catechism—the prophecy within foretelling that the first and only child of the seventh son of Avangarde and the third daughter of Mah’reel would usher forth the salvation of their world—was in a remarkable state of preservation.
By Matthew J. Fromm12 months ago in Fiction
The unexpected.
The unexpected. Ending of a peaceful evening It had been a pleasantly spent evening, alone at last, no demands for attention, no call to be a servant dispensing an endless supply of cocktails. The two dogs lay in front of the fire, peacefulness dominated every aspect of my spirit and body, even my usually overactive mind was still. The dogs were, as usual, the first indication of disturbance to our tranquillity, they both pricked up ears and eased themselves onto all 4 paws. Neither barked but both were looking towards the door to our garden. I thought it may be an over inquisitive fox getting too close to the glass, but then the silence seemed to thicken. There was no noise, in fact it was a sort of super silence, as if any noise would be swallowed up and killed. A strange atmosphere invaded our evening, and my world was never to be the same ever again.
By Peter Rose12 months ago in Fiction
Ferry on a Dream. Runner-Up in Parallel Lives Challenge. Content Warning.
Running up to his door, it’s hanging open- why? <Walking up to his door. The lights are out, why?> A sleeved arm snags me out of the air by my chest, knocks the wind out of me. The arm wraps me up and pulls me to the ground. A man’s voice- “You can’t go insi- Hey – You can’t- THOMAS. You can’t go inside. Stop. Stop”.
By Thomas Speer12 months ago in Fiction
My Test of Footography for Safety and Trustworthiness
Hey there, I’m Elara Whitmore, a digital creator from Texas. For the past year, I’ve been building a side hustle that now brings in a steady $2,500 a month: selling feet pictures. If you’ve heard the buzz and are searching for “Footography reviews” or “is Footography legit?”, you’ve come to the right place. I’m here to give you the real, unfiltered story from someone who’s actually doing it.
By Elara Whitmore12 months ago in Fiction
Sunset Grace: A Parisian Balcony Encounter
It was the soft, golden hour in Paris, that fleeting, sacred interlude the French call l'heure dorée. The day, with its clamor and commerce, was exhaling a final, contented sigh, and the city, in turn, breathed back a soft, ethereal light. The wind, a gentle accomplice in this twilight conspiracy, drifted from the Seine, carrying with it the faint, complex perfume of river water, rain-washed stone, and the distant promise of evening blossoms. It brushed against my face, a cool, silken touch, as I leaned back on the modest wrought-iron terrace of my rented apartment in the 7th arrondissement.
By Stefano D'angello12 months ago in Fiction
