Short Story

What Happened After the Pool
David woke on the poolside lounger, sunglasses slipped to the bridge of his nose. Sunlight sliced across his retina in orange patches. His gaze drifted across the water to his wife, Sarah, in her white bikini, splashing wildly with Mark and John.
By Jin2 months ago in Fiction
The Dark Car Park
Introduction On our recent trip to Whitby Fiona got lost descending from Whitby Abbey (a former haunt of Dracula), she was perturbed by the steps on the estate block which might have led to a dark car park. Matt and Craig, our hosts told us about wanderings in some Whitby estates where if you are "not one of them" you are subjected to baleful glares from the locals. To these scenarios, I have added some elements of a Cristopher Fowler short story about a driver in an underground car park.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 3 months ago in Fiction
The Summer He Counted Her Steps
Chapter One: The Wheat Field Jack left Manhattan for his grandfather’s Ohio farm in June. The farm had been empty for five years. The cornfield fence had rusted. But the wheat still grew—hard red winter wheat, planted before the old man died, never harvested, left to itself.
By Jin3 months ago in Fiction
Weight of Nightmares
The first night it happened, Elin thought it was only the cold. Winter had settled hard against the village, the kind that worked its way beneath the doorframe, through the seams of the walls, and into the joints of the body. The little house groaned with it. The rafters cracked softly overhead. Wind dragged itself over the roof like something with nails. Somewhere beyond the shutters, the sea kept up its endless breathing against the black shore.
By Kristina Zill3 months ago in Fiction
Embracing Fawn's Rest
Fawn’s Rest always smelled like cedar after rain—like the town had been washed clean and decided to keep the softness. Victor noticed it most in the mornings, when the mist still clung to the evergreens and the road out front looked like it might dissolve into fog. Their old boarding house sat on the outskirts, half wrapped in history and half wrapped in modern updates, like it couldn’t quite decide which century it belonged to. Wide porch. Tall windows. Original woodwork that creaked underfoot in a way that felt almost affectionate. Inside, clean lines and warm light tried to pretend the walls hadn’t heard a hundred years of strangers’ stories.
By Kristina Zill3 months ago in Fiction
Aftermath
I always said that teaching chose me. I didn't choose it. I had always loved numbers, but I didn't especially want to be an accountant.
By Julie Lacksonen3 months ago in Fiction
The Pine Lake ... Monster?
Lily stood back and admired her new home. The old camper had never looked better. She had spent days cleaning it up, inside and out. She had repaired the screens as best she could, patiently weaving patches into the mesh to cover the holes. She had scrubbed away the dirt and moss that had clung to the sides and roof of the little trailer. She had opened up all the storage spaces inside, cleared out piles of sunflower seed shells and birdseed collected by long-gone rodents, and cleaned everything with Clorox Cleaner with Bleach.
By Laura DePace3 months ago in Fiction
Stockholm obverse part 2
As Wayne stood in her gaze, he felt more exposed than he ever had before. Now that he was standing here in front of her, for the first time, she would be looking at him. Really looking at him. No more inconspicuous hiding now that she had seen his face.
By Iris Morales3 months ago in Fiction
In Other News
"Thank you, Sheila. More on that at seven. Elsewhere, in the world of maritime exploration it's 'anchors away!' as the Coastal Provinces' SCS Sea Scout is set to return home late tomorrow evening.
By Alexander McEvoy3 months ago in Fiction
The Story Platform That Just Spent $47M on a Single IP—And Why No One’s Talking About the Real Bet
The day Senator Vincent Blake announced his run for president, he pulled up to the rally in a rust-flecked Ford pickup. He stepped onto the corroded bumper, leaned into the microphone, and said, “I’m not showing you people, a single page of my tax returns.”
By Jin3 months ago in Fiction
CAN THIS REALLY BE HOME?
CAN THIS REALLY BE HOME? My land? * Evan Quill walked the rocky shores of Kenmare Bay in Kerry, Ireland. As he looked ahead, he saw a small sandy shore in the distance. Probably a good place if you plan on swimming, he thought. Maybe tomorrow, I’ll put on my swimsuit and come back.
By Margaret Brennan3 months ago in Fiction
Effie & Simon
"Hold still, horsey," she said in that little voice, "Mine going to get on, okay?" Lorelai patted my cheek, and I snorted. Then, gripping handfuls of my t-shirt, she climbed up onto my back and jigged up and down. I moved obediently forward, early morning dew soaking my hands and knees. Her glittering pink wellies swayed harmlessly either side of my ribs, and her giggles poured like sunshine. "Go, Uncle Horsey, go! Faster!"
By L.C. Schäfer3 months ago in Fiction