Short Story
The Mighty Lion and the Brave Little Mice
The Story In the heart of a vast forest where the trees touched the skies and the rivers sang as they flowed, lived a lion named Rudra. Rudra was no ordinary lion—he was the king of the forest. His mane shone like gold under the sun, his roar shook the valleys, and his strength was unmatched. Every creature in the forest respected him, not only because of his power but also because of his sense of justice.
By Hamza Muhammadabout a year ago in Fiction
Her Lover in Shadows
The World Exist in This Room Mariya walked through the door and tossed her keys in the direction of the table. As the keys clattered to the floor just past their target, she dropped herself down into his favorite chair, still wearing the nursing scrubs the hospital had given her in the emergency room. Her legs slowly drew up into her chest and her body sank into the fabric as she curled the whole of it into the seat.
By Timothy A Rowlandabout a year ago in Fiction
The Raven.
In another life, Eloise thinks maybe she was a bird. A pretty bird with black silken feathers and a razor sharp beak that never missed her prey. She imagined she soared through the night sky, utterly weightless with the pleasant stretch of her wings and the distant world below her. In that other life she was free, free of all the pointless things being a human had thrust upon her. Free of guilt, of pain, of waking up and wondering if today was the day her existence would finally end. As a bird the only thing that’d kill her were the predators designed to, not her own thoughts and the idea that things would be better if she wasn’t there.
By Casi Alarconabout a year ago in Fiction
Here Without You. Top Story - September 2025.
Standing at the edge of the ravine, looking out among the changing colors of the rocks that line the chasm in beautiful swirls. Some of them shimmer in the light of the setting sun behind you, remembering the glow of her eyes the last time you were here. The image is so clear, with the sunset dancing along the golden locks of her hair. You are looking up at her from being down on one knee. A ring is wedged tightly between your fingers as well as the question is between your lips. The weight of the world rests on your shoulders while you wait for what feels like an eternity for her to say, “Yes!”
By Gunnar Andersonabout a year ago in Fiction
The City of Almost
The City of Almost When Mira first moved to the city, she thought the locals were joking. “You’ll see them,” her landlord had said while handing her the brass key with its strange, crooked teeth. “Don’t stare too long. That’s the trick.”
By Timothy A Rowlandabout a year ago in Fiction
The Weight of Invisible Things
Maya had been carrying the box for three weeks when her sister finally asked about it. “What’s in there?” Elena said, nodding toward the shoebox tucked under Maya’s arm as they walked through the hospital corridor. It was the same box Maya brought to every chemotherapy session, every doctor’s appointment, every sleepless night spent researching clinical trials at 3 AM.
By E.K. Danielsabout a year ago in Fiction
The Message That Never Left
Elena typed the words three times before erasing them. The first draft was too blunt. We’re done. Don’t call me again. The second too sentimental. I’ll always care for you, but this isn’t working. The third hovered somewhere in the middle, but still her thumb trembled above the glowing blue arrow on the screen.
By Timothy A Rowlandabout a year ago in Fiction
Liberal Art. Runner-Up in The Shape of the Thing Challenge. Content Warning.
1. Three students stand still in front of a bare cherry blossom tree across the street from the library, creating a sort of accidental tableau as they gaze ahead. That’s the first image Mara is conscious of. She doesn’t quite grasp what’s happening but she notes the unplanned choreography of their positioning and almost reaches for her phone to take a picture, then thinks better of it. Her ears are ringing, which is odd. She continues walking towards them, aiming to commit the whole thing to memory. A girl is standing stoic and expressionless while her boyfriend clutches at her, vibrating. Mara wonders why he’s so upset. Another girl stands nearby, alone, jerking her head between her phone screen and the library. She throws a glance in the couple’s direction, begging them to address her, mouth hanging partially open. Spit it out, Mara thinks.
By Emily Elizabethabout a year ago in Fiction
The Madness of the Fox. Honorable Mention in The Shape of the Thing Challenge. Content Warning.
John Junius drives his creaky old Taurus down Jasper's bend, which is also called called County Road 15, according to his outdated GPS-- the one with the tinny British accent.
By Sam Spinelliabout a year ago in Fiction
