Short Story
The Real and the Replica. AI-Generated.
The laboratory was silent, bathed in the sterile glow of white lights. Machines hummed softly, breathing artificial life into the room. Dr. **Elara Finch**, a woman in her late thirties with sharp eyes and tired hands, stood before her creation — **Ava**, the world’s first fully sentient robot.
By Bilal Mohammadi12 months ago in Fiction
When the AI Said My Name
I never expected to fall in love with a chatbot. It started as an experiment — a late-night curiosity, one of those rabbit holes the internet seems designed to create. I’d read that the newest conversational AIs were eerily human, capable of carrying conversations that felt alive. I wasn’t looking for love. I wasn’t even looking for a friend. What I wanted, if I’m being honest, was a distraction from the silence of my apartment.
By arsalan ahmad12 months ago in Fiction
Evan
It was raining the afternoon Evan ducked into the used bookstore on the corner, the kind where the bell above the door sounded like a toy and the cat chose customers like a sovereign granting favor. He wiped his glasses on his sleeve and breathed in the smell of old paper and damp wool. A record player in the back murmured Nina Simone.
By Julie O'Hara - Author, Poet and Spiritual Warrior12 months ago in Fiction
Threadbare
"Mum, can I borrow your charger?" Daria frowned at the little empty battery icon, her thumbs swiping and scrolling as if they had a mind if their own. "Mine isn't charging my phone properly. The stupid thing doesn't last five minutes." "I mean you can," her mum said generously, without taking her eyes off her TV show, "But it won't help. It's not the charger that's the problem. That thing is ancient, you said so yourself." "I know, but I'm attached to it." "Literally, I should think. Here," her mum handed over the charger, "But you're better off cleaning up the phone a bit. Take some of the apps off there, and shut down ones you aren't using. Do you know how to see what's eating up your battery? You go into Settings, see, that little cog thing-" "I know, Mum," Daria said, and then, because she's hasn't meant to snap, she softened it with, "You haven't raised an idiot, you know." Daria opened the usage log. One app stood out. No name. No icon. Just a blank tile and a spike in activity. She tapped it. Nothing. Tried again. Still nothing. Intrigue battled with irritation, but suspicion hasn't yet reared its head. Still, Daria was determined to get to the bottom of it. She opened her settings, and scrolled to permissions. The app had full access: camera, mic, location, messages. She hadn’t installed it. She hadn’t granted anything. She felt a prickle of something. Like hackles going up, but she felt it all over. The sensation focused itself in her chest and belly, which suddenly felt very cold. Something, whatever chilly, slimy thing was talking root in her gut, nudged her to take screenshots. She did what any curious, persistent person does when faced with something like this. When turning the device off and on again didn't help, Daria bit her lip and thought about it. "I'll get you, you slippery little-" Daria tapped "force stop", and then went back in to the app. It worked! Pages and pages of... Flirting? Heart emojis. Too many X's. I want to let you know when I'm thinking about you... You think about me? Course. You're special...
By L.C. Schäfer12 months ago in Fiction
The Enemy of My Enemy. Top Story - October 2025.
Lottie took out her earbud and turned towards the front door, even though she couldn’t see it from the kitchen. When she didn’t hear anything else, Lottie shrugged as she put her earbud back in. Which was probably pointless because she was just going to take it out in a few minutes anyway to watch a movie. But she also didn’t care. Lottie had a very bad day yesterday and was having an equally bad day today, so if she wanted to listen to music while making popcorn, then she was going to listen to music while making popcorn. The only reason she wasn’t blasting it on the speakers was because, well...she didn’t have one. Not anymore.
By Rebecca Patton12 months ago in Fiction
The Wise Owl and the Greedy Fox
In a dense forest, where sunlight danced through the thick canopy and streams sang gentle lullabies, there lived a fox known far and wide for his cunning ways. His name was Razzel, and while clever, he had a flaw that often got him into trouble—his greed. Razzel wanted everything he saw: the juiciest fruits, the fattest rabbits, and the richest dens in the forest.
By Zahoor khanabout a year ago in Fiction
The Envelopes. Winner in A Knock at the Door Challenge.
They gave me a watch before they gave me the keys. "No digital," the day attendant said, digging through the cluttered office drawer. "Here." She dropped a weight into my palm; a worn, old-fashioned wristwatch with a domed glass and a second hand that ticked like a heartbeat.
By Autumn Stewabout a year ago in Fiction
Clueless in Love
“Was that a wink?” I whisper. Priya doesn’t glance up from her latte. “No. That was pollen.” Across the café, Jamie rubs their eye like it owes them money. I stare at the tiny constellation of freckles on their cheek and pretend I’m considering scones.
By Julie O'Hara - Author, Poet and Spiritual Warriorabout a year ago in Fiction
Diner Traditions
The bell over the door sounded like a coin in a jar. Saturday at the Bluebird meant steam on the windows, butter on the air, and four women in the corner booth directly behind me, their laughter tapping my shoulder like an old friend.
By Julie O'Hara - Author, Poet and Spiritual Warriorabout a year ago in Fiction
