Short Story

The Tortured Hulls of Goodwin Sands
There's a place, just off the coast of Kent, England, where ships go to die. Clever people have wondered: why do so many shipwrecks happen here? They ponder about the tricky weather smack in a prime trade route. Surely thinking of all those ships... ancient, and less ancient... creaking and groaning, and rattling their tortured chains on the sea bed...
By L.C. Schäferabout a year ago in Fiction
Lemonade Skies
The first thing Ava noticed when she stepped off the bus was the smell of lemons. Not strong, not artificial — just faint enough to feel real. The kind of scent that danced through the summer breeze and reminded her of freedom, even if she hadn’t felt it in a long time.
By Esther Sunabout a year ago in Fiction
The library of lost things
No one ever found the library on purpose. It wasn't marked on any map, and very few—if any—knew about its existence. But one rainy afternoon, as Camilla followed a trail of pebbles along the gutters of her quiet street, she found herself in front of a metal door in an alley, between two large buildings. It had the
By pink_roseeabout a year ago in Fiction
Punishment
Get this published book here. An Excerpt from the Book by Joey Raines Rain was coming down like the world was ending, each drop smashing against the windshield like tiny bombs. The wipers couldn't keep up, squealing and scraping as they fought back and forth in time with Luke's pounding heart. He was gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles had gone white, hands slippery with sweat even though the October cold was seeping through his car's broken heater.
By Joey Rainesabout a year ago in Fiction
The Girl Who Waited by the Sea
In the soft glow of an early Yokohama morning, where the sea mists dance with cherry blossom petals, a bronze statue quietly watches the waves. She is only a girl—small, delicate, and dressed in a kimono. But what strikes passersby most are her feet: a pair of bright red shoes, polished and untarnished by time.
By Syed Umar about a year ago in Fiction
Carriers
Carriers are flying in today, and I hate their blue-grey bodies. They thread the sky like old stitches, pulling at clouds, at memory, at the thin fabric of things I’d rather keep closed.
By Shohel Ranaabout a year ago in Fiction
The Echo in the Pages
The Echo in the Pages The heat came early that year.It rolled over the hills like a heavy sigh, settling into the crevices of the small town of Bluehollow. Lawn chairs were dragged out earlier than usual, lemonade pitchers sweated more than the children, and the local bookstore pushed their "Summer Reading List" two weeks ahead of schedule.
By Shohel Ranaabout a year ago in Fiction
Dodge Tanner’s Highly Unrecommended Travelogue - #78: An Unwanted, Unwarranted, Game of Tag
Dodge prided himself on being many things—a skilled gatherer, an expert climber, and, most importantly, someone who rarely made a fool of himself. Unfortunately, today was shaping up to be an exception.
By Canyon Cappola (TheNomad)about a year ago in Fiction
Confessions, Contracts, and Consequences
1. The Offer Marcus Tran’s affair didn’t start in the usual way—it began with a conversation at home. “Jen,” he said one evening, barely able to meet her eyes, “My boss… she’s taken an interest in me.”
By lvvabout a year ago in Fiction
"The WhatsApp Message That Almost Got me Killed
PART 1: THE MESSAGE THAT CHANGED EVERYTHING The rain hammered against my apartment window like a warning. I was curled up on my couch, scrolling through memes, when my phone buzzed. A WhatsApp notification from an unknown number.
By Md. Muzammal Rahman Pirabout a year ago in Fiction
Mastering happiness
Once upon a time, in a quiet village tucked between green hills and golden fields, lived a wise old monk named Master Seto. Known far and wide for his deep wisdom and playful sense of humor, people would often seek him out for guidance.
By Alex Farnandoabout a year ago in Fiction
Mouths Full of Rain
I didn't mean to create a frog cult. I named the first one Cletus, after a guy my dad used to buy pills from. It felt right. Greasy name. Like something that would survive the apocalypse by crawling into the crawlspace and licking the mold off the copper pipes.
By Muhammad Sabeelabout a year ago in Fiction