Short Story

OPEN ALL HOURS
Children have a rangy, wired look about them. They eat junk, but they never get enough sleep, so it balances out. Sort of. Caffeine is romanticised to a hellish degree. People used to joke they couldn't live without it. Now, large triple-strength espressos are handed to pre-schoolers, no matter what time of day or night they arrive for classes. Nobody laughs.
By L.C. Schäferabout a year ago in Fiction
Life Lessons to Live by
Dog Guard Dog Capitan visited his master's tomb for six years. This faithful dog slept at the graveside of his deceased owner, Miguel Guzman, every single night following his death in 2006. After the funeral, Capitan disappeared, and the grieving family launched a thorough search to find him, putting up posters. Regrettably, the dog was not seen.
By Rohitha Lankaabout a year ago in Fiction
Don't Argue with Donkeys
Don't argue with donkeys.. Not every battle is worth fighting - especially when the other side is not interested in the truth, if only to win the argument. Here's a story that reminds us why silence is sometimes the wisest answer
By Rohitha Lankaabout a year ago in Fiction
petals in the dark. Content Warning.
For over thirty years, the little town of Willowbrook had known nothing but warmth and cheer from the town's beloved florist Mr. William Carter. Every morning, without fail, he stood on the same corner, his cart overflowing with the brightest blooms you could imagine. The air was always filled with the scent of fresh roses, daisies, and lilacs as he smiled and waved to each passerby.
By E. hasanabout a year ago in Fiction
Until the Last Rose Dies: A Relationship Story
Until the Last Rose Dies: A Relationship Story Michael and Emma had been married for eight years. They had once been inseparable, finishing each other’s sentences and planning weekend getaways just for the fun of it. But lately things felt routine. Distant. Even the simplest moments, like dinners or conversations, had become more about logistics than love.
By Sarwar Zebabout a year ago in Fiction
Daphne's Ghost. Content Warning.
She had met a ghost once. Back when fireworks had split the sky open and rained stars down, but what a vacuous length of time has unspooled since then.
By Elle Schillereffabout a year ago in Fiction
Devil in Manhattan
The rain had a way of making everything in New York bleed. Under the yellow haze of gas lamps and the hum of trolley wires, Detective Samuel Greaves lit a cigarette with shaking fingers and stared down at the body. The alley behind 46th and Lexington stank of garbage, gin, and death. A woman lay sprawled on the cobblestones, her throat slashed in a precise arc, a strange sigil carved into her chest—a symbol Samuel didn’t recognize, but had seen before.
By Lucianabout a year ago in Fiction
Ashes Between the Blue and Gray
The sun rose over Antietam Creek with a crimson glare, as if the land itself bled from the wounds of yesterday. Sergeant Elias Monroe wiped soot from his eyes and glanced across the field. Smoke still curled from smoldering grass. Corpses lay twisted in unnatural poses, their uniforms torn, their faces forever caught between agony and silence.
By Lucianabout a year ago in Fiction
The Goat Who Became a Firefighter
In the quiet little town of Emberville, nestled between the whispering pines and golden meadows, there lived a goat unlike any other. His name was Billy.
By Only true about a year ago in Fiction
The Penguin Who Couldn’t Swim
In the vast, frozen wilderness of Antarctica, where the wind howls like a symphony of ice and the sky stretches endlessly above fields of snow, lived a small emperor penguin chick named Pip. Unlike the other chicks in his bustling colony, Pip harbored a secret—a deep and gnawing fear of water.
By Only true about a year ago in Fiction
The Artist in the Desert
There was a fighter plane that had crashed in the Sahara Desert during World War II. The pilot was alright, but all his surroundings were nothing but dusty sand and a hot sun. No food, no water. Nothing but a bottle of water and dry crackers.
By Rohitha Lankaabout a year ago in Fiction
Crimson Horizon
The morning Charlotte Hale was kidnapped began like any other in Port Royal—hot, loud, and full of the smell of brine and citrus. At thirteen, Charlotte was more interested in books than dresses, in maps rather than manners. Her father, a respected merchant, had always indulged her curiosity, allowing her to read his charts and ask questions about tides and trade routes.
By Lucianabout a year ago in Fiction