Short Story
Divorce Vacation Flying Sandwich
It was my first vacation as a single dad. I knew it wasn't a contest, but if I'm being honest, it felt like one sometimes. My ex-wife had taken our daughters to Europe during the summer. They'd seen castles, museums, cathedrals, and cities older than our entire country. They came back with photographs from places I'd only ever seen in books and documentaries.
By Ernest Taulbee2 months ago in Fiction
Counting Clouds
Meryn sighed, her chest heavy with sadness. The clouds matched her mood: grey and gloomy, as though even the Earth understood the unfairness of life. The weather was funny that way, sometimes. Meryn’s car was cold and breezy, chilling her to the bone. She’d been sitting in uncomfortable silence for far too long. She could have spoken, but her voice would falter.
By choreomanias2 months ago in Fiction
Two Ls, One T
The part Elliot remembered took less than half a minute. It happened during final dress, while somebody in the wings tested the doorbell for the fourteenth time and the woman playing his mother shouted that her left shoe had disappeared. The stage manager was on headset saying, “No, the other fireplace,” with the patience of someone being slowly poisoned. From the house, the director called for everyone to please stop touching the curtains.
By Jason Hair-Wynn2 months ago in Fiction
On a Dime. Top Story - July 2026.
Ethan tried to be good. Really, he did. But it seemed there were a hundred voices in him begging him to go this way and that, say this, investigate that. The counselor at his school said he might have ADHD. His older brother Josh said he was just a natural pain in the ass. Whatever it was, his particular condition had resulted in him having none of his allowance left to spend when town day came. Nothing except a single dime, which technically wasn't part of his allowance at all, but something he'd found on the ground in the hallway at the hotel where they were staying.
By Raistlin Allen2 months ago in Fiction
The Off-Key Mile
I thought I was alone in that car for four years before I found out I wasn't. It was always the same stretch—the last fifteen minutes of the drive back from my mother's house, a flat dark road with exactly one gas station on it that never seemed to be open, no matter what hour we passed it. My daughter would be in the back seat, worn down from a whole evening of being fussed over by her grandmother, and by the second red light she'd usually gone quiet in that specific way toddlers go quiet, head tipped against the car seat strap, mouth open, all the way under.
By Aarsh Malik2 months ago in Fiction
One Earbud
I missed the last train by about ninety seconds. I know because I watched the doors close through the stairwell glass, watched the whole lit-up train slide off into the tunnel without me, and then stood there for a second doing the math on how a person misses something by ninety seconds and somehow still has to live with the full consequences of missing it by an hour.
By Aarsh Malik2 months ago in Fiction
The Song The Florescent Lights Sang
I remember the creaking of the old wooden stairs, each one greeting the tips of my toes as I crept down into the cool of the basement. Dark wooden walls framed the descent into a room that was filled with the magic of lost, drying arts. The fluorescent lights always flickered on with a wink before settling into a familiar hum that lulled lazily - a strange lullaby for a place so full of wonder. The air was scented with the rustic scents of metal and grease - a perfume of mechanics and hands that knew how to labor. Work benches lined the walls and were laid with an organized chaos of tools, rubber, cork, feathers, and dried deer tails - a mismatched craftsman’s rainbow.
By Ellie Hoovs2 months ago in Fiction
Silcharri, Guardian of Growth
Silvanus Vestus Bladebreaker was born strong, as all Bladebreaker Charr tended to be. Even as a cub his paws were oversized, his shoulders broad, his voice a gravelly rumble that made the other Charr younglings turn their heads. Blood Legion trainers noticed him early. They always noticed strength. The moment he could lift a practice hammer without toppling over, his childhood ended and his war training began.
By Canyon Cappola (TheNomad)2 months ago in Fiction
