Short Story

The House Without Your Voice
It’s strange how silence can feel so heavy. When you were here, the house was never really quiet. I don’t mean in a noisy, chaotic way—it was the kind of sound that made a place feel alive. Your voice floated from the kitchen as you hummed while cooking. You’d call out from the hallway, asking if I’d seen your keys. You’d tell me a random story you’d remembered, your words spilling out in bursts of laughter.
By Habib kingabout a year ago in Fiction
Yippie-kay-yay, Mother Crustacean
It all started one fateful day when I was searching the Great Coral for interesting trinkets to show my mother and father. I happened across something so intriguing that I had to fight a literal frogfish. You don't know what a frogfish looks like? Well, brother, you're in for a shock. They don't actually look like frogs at all—and they're nasty omnivores.
By Paul Stewartabout a year ago in Fiction
WHO DID IT? (English and Italian versions)
I was invited by an anonymous letter to take part in solving a case that requires unraveling some riddles to find the clues.
By Giada Gali about a year ago in Fiction
Full Circle
I had been driving since dawn, at least, and now the last bit of daylight was fading behind the hills of Mark Twain National Forest. My phone rang again. I let it go to voicemail. Maybe in a while I’d call my daughter back, just to let them know I was okay. But Hal? I couldn’t even hear his voice yet without melting into a rage. Sure, it wasn’t all his fault. He had known about the letters from the bank, and he had kept them secret, but I should have checked our accounts too. I shouldn’t have left it all to him, assuming he was keeping everything afloat. I knew business was slowing all year. I bore some guilt too. And maybe that’s what I was most angry about. After all, I lost more than he did. He had grown up in a stable home. Me? I was a typical army brat, moving every year or so and having to rip up and regrow tender roots in so many different places I’d lost count by the time I was in fifth grade. As a child, there was just one place I ever felt at home and that’s where I was going.
By Elizabeth Diehlabout a year ago in Fiction
I Followed a ‘Lost’ GPS Signal… And Ended Up in a Nightmare
Prologue: The Last Normal Night The whiskey burned going down as I crumpled Rachel's goodbye letter in my fist. One year together ended with three sentences on hotel stationery. I threw my duffel bag into the backseat of my '98 Honda Civic - the only thing I owned outright after the breakup. The digital clock read 2:37 AM when I turned the key, determined to drive through the night and put three states between me and my shattered heart.
By The Narrative Hubabout a year ago in Fiction
Reverse Phone Lookup Revealed Tinder Profile — My Heart Dropped
By Dr. Liora Fenwyn Disclosure: Some links, like Social Catfish, 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 Liora Fenwynabout a year ago in Fiction
The Devil in the Mist
The midnight mist fits like a second skin around the mysterious figure walking along the dark pathway. His attention is so entirely focused on his inner turmoil, he fails to appreciate the unearthly beautiful, if foreboding garden bordered on both sides with thorns and thistles. In the far distance is the silhouette of the menacing castle which he had come to despise.
By Antoni De'Leonabout a year ago in Fiction
Someone Is Living in My Dreams
Every night, as darkness settles outside my window, I feel a strange presence with me. It’s not terrifying, but it’s undeniably real. The dream world I slip into is no longer empty – someone else has moved in. At first, I thought it was a trick of the mind, maybe the echo of a story I read too late. But as the nights wore on, the feeling grew too vivid to ignore. Someone is living in my dreams, whispering to me in the silence between sleep and waking.
By Hamidabout a year ago in Fiction
The Pontianak: Midnight Delivery. Top Story - August 2025.
Hot days. Humid nights. Banana leaves swaying in the breeze. Juxtaposed against a brilliant, metropolis skyscape. The Pontianak is a renowned female ghost from Malay folklore--a spirit that haunts banana trees.
By Michelle Liew Tsui-Linabout a year ago in Fiction
The Window That Waited
In a quiet corner of the city, where the traffic never quite quieted and the buildings leaned into each other like old friends, stood a weathered apartment block with peeling paint and a rusted fire escape. It wasn’t grand or new, but it had stood for decades, holding stories in its walls.
By meerjananabout a year ago in Fiction
Between the Last Train and Dawn
The last train out of the city sighed into the station at 11:48 p.m., wheels hissing against the tracks. Mara stepped aboard, her reflection flickering in the darkened windows before dissolving into the harsh fluorescent glow of the carriage.
By Millicent Chisomabout a year ago in Fiction
Reverse Image Search Exposed His Dating Profiles — My Marriage Was a Lie
Disclosure: Some links, like Social Catfish and 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 Sophia Davisabout a year ago in Fiction