Short Story

The Beast Who Failed Anger Management
The Beast had a problem. Not the fur, not the claws, not even the breath that could peel wallpaper. No, the Beast’s real issue was his temper. The slightest inconvenience sent him into a full Broadway-worthy meltdown.
By Rohullahabout a year ago in Fiction
The Last Train
Rain whispered against the station roof, a soft rhythm beneath the stillness of Platform 7. Anaya sat alone—though not quite alone—on a worn wooden bench, her fingers tracing the edge of a train ticket like it might vanish if she stopped holding on.
By meerjananabout a year ago in Fiction
Are You Brave Enough to Find the Invisible Map?
Some stories begin with a clear destination. Mine began with a question: “Are you brave enough to find the invisible map?”
By Habib kingabout a year ago in Fiction
Whispers of Marianne . AI-Generated.
Shimmering against the railing, Marianne's ring was a match for the sun half-way arrested in a cloudless blue sky. Oliver Swenson blinked tired eyes and stirred half-thawed ice cubes in his bourbon while water lapped in iridescent strands of turquoise and sapphire before a green hill of trees and underbrush. An authentic generic Eden. Not a mile away thronged tourists clamoring for a spot of shade from the sun, but in the small lagoon, there was silence. Wall-enclosed by a citadel of jagged volcanic rock, it was untouched. Secret. A bridegroom's dream. The same as it had been all those distant years ago when they were young and foolish. Young and dumb is more like it. Still, they had done their best. Thirty-three years and three kids later the only constant was the island. Drowsy crests of waves lapped up onto the beach, washing the most delicate of shells out to sea. Seagulls cawed like Marianne's laughter overhead. No, this was then, not later. Later it was still. Too still. Heavy with the stillness of being completely alone on his platform.
By Dipnarayan bhagat about a year ago in Fiction
I Tried UnitedStatesBackgroundChecks.com for a Self-Background Check — Here’s What Happened
Disclosure: Some links, like Spokeo, are tools I’ve personally used and found helpful. If you use them, I may receive a small commission at no extra cost to you. My recommendations are based on genuine experience.
By Kai Winslowabout a year ago in Fiction
The Girl Who Refused to Break
Amina was born in a small African village surrounded by dusty roads, endless fields, and voices that always seemed to remind girls of their limits.
By salman Nasir about a year ago in Fiction
The Wooden Rail of Memories . AI-Generated.
As soon as the Sun had gone below the horizon I was in my favorite rocker on the porch swing. It was the day of the year again.
By Dipnarayan bhagat about a year ago in Fiction
The Last Sunflower
The air had a metallic taste. It was thick, like something from a forgotten era. A time before the sun had disappeared from the sky. A time when the Earth had been alive with warmth, growth, and hope. Now, only shadows remained.
By Solene Hartabout a year ago in Fiction
Messages from the Houseplants
I never thought of myself as a plant person. Yes, I did have my obligatory potted fern during college that perished within a month. And then when I moved into my first apartment, I bought a snake plant since someone had assured me it was "impossible to kill." It sat for years in quiet observance in the corner, taciturn and ungrumpy, as I watered it only when its leaves were the hue of weak tea.
By Azmat Aliabout a year ago in Fiction
I Am A Light And The Dark Is Afraid of Me
Nothing good ever happens in the dark, except sex. No, wait — sex is even better in the light. However, too many weird things happen in the dark — to me, anyway. Everything from stubbing my toe to falling backwards down a flight of stairs, so I always have many lights on in several areas of my house ever since the latter happened. Lights keep me safe.
By Star Love Greyabout a year ago in Fiction
She Called Me-Two Years After I Buried Her
I wasn’t supposed to hear her voice again. Not after the funeral. Not after the dirt hit the coffin and we all stood there in silence, trying to believe she was really gone.
By ETS_Storyabout a year ago in Fiction
The Silent Beacon
In the heart of the tempest, where the world's fury met the quiet strength of the lighthouse, Tadhg Cthonall had found his voice in the language of light.
By Kayla Bloomabout a year ago in Fiction